Bastard Broth

Summer's practically at my doorstep, and here I am writing about "hot chicken water," as my friend Nancy called it yesterday morning. I've been under the weather this week and my tastebuds have turned  ascetic. It's weird what we end up subsisting on when the chips are down, and in my case, it's been: ginger ale, buttered toast, and cups of chicken broth. I never drink ginger ale when I'm healthy, and buttered toast is painfully boring. The only redeeming thing has been the broth.

It doesn't initially sound very impressive on its own. I don't blame you if you're staring heatedly at the computer screen, wondering what else I've come down with. Let me be explicit: Chicken stock on its own doesn't usually taste that great. Why? Because it hasn't been seasoned yet. Without salt or aromatics, stock takes on the metallic properties of dirty dishwater. The other reason why chicken broth has such a bad rap is that the stuff you get in the store is typically wan and flavorless, and not something desirably potable. 

To strike a balance between healthful aliment and palette-pleaser, it helps to examine the differences between a stock and broth. I'm oversimplifying it, but essentially broth is what you get by boiling meat while stock comes from simmering the bones. There's a few other clarifications: a stock is usually simmered twice as long as a broth, which turns all of the connective tissue inside the bones into flavorful gelatin. This creates a raw stock, which looks a little bit like chicken Jell-O once it has cooled. It's not something you'd want to pour into a cup when you have a cold, but it's perfect for using as a base in risottos or soups. Because broth has a higher meat-to-bone ratio than stock, its flavor is much more delicate and nuanced. Usually a broth has a watery consistency, and once it's done, it's ready to be enjoyed on its own.  So: stock is heartier, broth tastes better. 

Personally, I like a bastard version of the two, and I'll tell you why. The gelatin in stock is great for a haywire immune system, but it's the soothing aromatics in broth that send off of my liquid gold taste receptors. As you can tell, I'm not one for compromising taste when it comes to my health. 

I never use a recipe when I make my bastard broth--I use what's on hand, let it simmer for an hour, and add a generous amount of salt if I'm to use it immediately. If I'm making a batch for later on, I reduce the salt by at least half. I make a half dozen quarts on a day when I'm lounging at home, and then I shove them in the freezer. I'm a compulsive scrimper, and my freezer is full of stock-ready ingredients. For fish stock, I save shrimp shells. I save onion, celery, and carrot scraps in a bag in my freezer, along with fennel stalks, parsley stems, or parsnip peels. It takes about 3 hours, depending on what you like. If you're going for something more brothy, strain it then and there. If you like gelatinous stock, let the pot simmer for up to 6 hours. 

Once the stock/broth is finished, it's easy to turn into risotto or soup like the one above (one of my favorite tricks: shredded chicken, tortilla, cabbage, and chopped onion.) But on days where you're having delirious fever dreams about a two-headed cyclops and can hardly lift a finger, it doesn't hurt to sleepwalk into the kitchen, remove a frozen quart of bastard's broth, and place it in a bowl of hot water. While you nap and try to ward of the cold chills, the stock will thaw, and once it's ready, all you have to do is reheat it and drink to your health. 

Basic Chicken Broth/Stock 

(AKA Bastard Broth)

Everything is interchangeable here. Add a little fennel if you like, or whatever you have on hand, maybe some chicken wings taking up room in the freezer. The curry is my secret ingredient--it brings out a nicely spicy, savory complexity (a little reminiscent of Lipton's cup-o-soup--yes, i said it). Omit the curry and reduce the salt if you want a more blank-sheet stock. 

Ingredients:

1 4-5 lb roasting chicken, broken down, neck, wings, and backbone included

1 large yellow onion, quartered, skin on

2 carrots, cut into 2 inch pieces

3 stalks of celery, cut into 2 inch pieces

1 parsnip, cut into 2 inch pieces

6 cloves of garlic, in their sheaths

a handful of parsley stems

a handful of thyme sprigs

1 teaspoon curry powder (opt.)

1 bay leaf

6 peppercorns

1 1/2 teaspoons sea salt

Directions: 

1. Place all ingredients in a large 10 qt. stock pot. Cover with 4 quarts of water.

2. Bring to a boil, then simmer uncovered for 3 hours, occasionally skimming the froth that bubbles to the surface. Don't worry about skiming the fat just yet, it will add complexity to the broth, and will be easier to skim once the stock has cooled.

3. If a more gelatinous stock is desired, remove the chicken from the pot after 45 minutes.* Shred the meat from the bones and set aside. Return the bones to the simmering pot, and to simmer for up 4-5 more hours. 

4. Once it's done, pour the stock over a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl. Divide amongst quart-size containers. Allow the stock to cool completely if you wish to freeze it, or use straightaway in soup or on its own.

Yields 4 qts. Keeps 3 months in the freezer.

*If you're like me and hate waste, remove the chicken after 45 minutes to collect the meat, then return to bones to the pot. It's a great way to pinch two meals out of one ingredient. The poached chicken is excellent in salads.

Cake-Eaters and Whoopie Pies

Here’s the deal with desserts: there’s a time for those pretty oh-la-la affairs, and then there’s a time for something squidgy that you can hold in your hand. Recently, I was craving something in the latter category and turned to Whoopie Pies. They remind me of being a little kid on the swing in our backyard. They remind me of Hi-C moustache stains and hunting for crabs and clam shells on the beach. There is nothing nutritionally virtuous about a whoopee pie—they’re loaded with butter and sugar, which is precisely why I was so drawn to the recipe printed in the NY Times last month.

According to said article, whoopie pies are experiencing a trendy resurgence, hot on the heels of that other kid-friendly dessert called the cupcake (remember those?). I don’t understand food trends. Everyone freaks out about bacon for the whole of 2008, only to completely denounce it the next year. Worse than all the here-today-gone-tomorrow twittering is the wad of cash some are willing to shell out in search of the most perfect specimen, especially when all of the ingredients necessary are already at home in the cupboard.

For me, this article conjured up the best kind of nostalgia. We ate whoopie pies every summer on the beach. My sister and I used to pool our change together and run down to the candy store where they sold whoopie pies in plastic wrap by the cash register. Barefoot and covered in sand, we’d walk back to our towels with sodas and whoopee pies in hand to watch kids dive off of the rocks into the surf. Traditionally, I ended up sharing my whoopie pies with my little sister, for as genetics would have it, I turned out to be more of a cake-eater and she an icing-only proponent. This has always been ideal when it comes to birthday cakes, wedding cakes, and cupcakes. We weren’t typically keen on sharing, but when it comes to cake, we have always had a seamless understanding.

Now, as humble as these pies are, I should warn you that the Time's recipe employs the use of Swiss buttercream frosting. Don't be frightened! Although it is a bit more high-maintenance, it is the perfect counterpart to the firm chocolate cakes. Swiss buttercream stays smooth and shiny, and doesn’t taste as sugary as most frostings because the egg whites and butter lend the structural heft usually provided by confectioner’s sugar. It also holds up well to piping (if you're feeling fancy), but it is the kind of frosting that makes even a cake-eater like myself cross over to the dark side. I like to add a bit more salt to my frosting, but then again, I like salt on just about everything. In short, when it comes time to make the frosting, be patient, use a stand-mixer and it will all turn out fine. Lastly, do not be alarmed by the quantity of butter in the recipe. Yes, it is a whole lot of butter, but clearly this is not diet food. Trendy or not, bring these pies to a picnic and you’ll have no trouble with pesky leftovers.

Whoopie Pies

Recipe From Zingerman's Bakehouse in Ann Arbor, MI

INGREDIENTS FOR THE CAKES:

1/4 pound (1 stick) butter, at room temperature

1 cup light brown sugar

1 large egg

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda

1 teaspoon sea salt

2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 cup cocoa

1 cup buttermilk

INGREDIENTS FOR THE BUTTERCREAM FILLING:

3 large egg whites

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 pound butter (2 sticks), at room temperature

3/4 teaspoon vanilla

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

DIRECTIONS:

1. For the cakes: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a mixing bowl, cream together the butter and brown sugar. Add the egg and vanilla extract and beat until light and creamy. In a separate bowl, whisk together the baking soda, salt, flour and cocoa. Add dry ingredients to butter mixture in three parts, alternating with buttermilk, and combining well after each addition.

2. Using an ice cream scoop or a spoon, scoop out 12 1/4-cup mounds of batter and place about 6 inches apart on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake until tops are puffed and cakes spring back when touched, 12 to 14 minutes. Remove from oven and cool completely before filling.

3. For the buttercream filling: For best results, follow directions carefully, paying attention to required temperatures. Fill bottom half of a double boiler (or a medium saucepan) with an inch or two of water, and bring to a boil over high heat. In top half of double boiler (or a metal bowl), combine egg whites and sugar. Place over simmering water and whisk just until sugar is dissolved and temperature reaches 180 degrees on an instant-read thermometer.

4. Using a whisk attachment on a heavy-duty mixer, whisk egg whites and sugar on high until they double in volume and become thick and shiny. Continue to whisk until cool. Reduce speed to medium and begin to add butter about 1/2 tablespoon at a time, until all the butter is incorporated. Add vanilla and salt. If mixture looks curdled, continue to whisk until it is smooth. Increase speed to high and whisk for 1 more minute. Use immediately or place in an airtight container and chill for up to 3 days, whisking buttercream again before using.

5. For assembly: Using an ice cream scoop or spoon, place 1/4 cup buttercream on flat side of each of 6 cakes, spreading it to edges. Top filled half with another cake to sandwich the buttercream. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days, or wrap individually and freeze for up to 3 months.

Makes 6 pies.