Skip to main content

Taking (and Making) Stock of the Situation

Remember that one day, last December, when I talked about how easy making chicken stock could be? 

If you don't, I'm not offended.  It's cool.  I forget things...like, a lot.  Forgot a hair appointment this last Monday.  It happens.

In short, if you take your crockpot and a raw, whole chicken on a date, you're going to get some amazing chicken stock.

The same kind of awesomeness can also happen with seafood.  Except, it kind of happens in reverse.  You cook the fish/shellfish, then eat it, then use the shells to make stock.

In pictures...this:


Then, this:


Then, this:
 

My dad recently turned 66, and for his birthday dinner/gift, he really wanted surf and turf.  No problemo.  Lobster tails, shrimp scampi, and steak.  I implored my family to save the shells, lobster and shrimp, so that I could make stock.  Which you see in the pot above.  Some chopped mirepoix, sweated first, the shells, aromatics like thyme, parsley, bay leaf, peppercorns, etc., and enough water to cover the shells.  First I brought it to the boil and skimmed off the foam that had accumulated (the impurities), then I turned down the heat and let it simmer about 45 minutes to an hour.  That is one nice thing about making fish stock, it does not take very long.

I let it set and cool for awhile before straining it into freezer-safe containers.  I heartily look forward to the next time I make a seafood bisque or chowder. 

Today's tip: If you're having seafood at home, keep the shells and the bones.  Make this stock and stock your freezer with this yummy stock.  And say the word as much as possible, in as many puns as you can.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

(She) Blinded Me With...Citrus

Excuse my attempt at tying today's blog entry with an iconic Thomas Dolby song.  What a terrible pun-ishment. Har har har. So, we're on the backside of Winter Vacation/Christmas Break/Holiday Hiatus here.  The kids return to school tomorrow, the freshman and I start back to our respective colleges next Monday. The clock is ticking and suddenly, I am whipped into frenzy to Get Work Done.  I suspect this phenomenon happens to many, many educators who try to avoid that panic-stricken night before they go back to work. And believe me when I say, I had the deepest, most earnest of intentions to write lesson plans, write quizzes, and generally prepare for the restart of my classes next week.  Like, really. And then...I was distracted by...citrus.  This happened. Okay, so....the lemons on the far right are no big deal.  They're available year-round.  But Meyer lemons...MEYER...I only find around here in the winter.  I first read about them i...

Girl Friends Are Great!

About a year and a half-ish ago, I stumbled into a parent organization called Choir Boosters.  Just about every learning institution in America has one (or several).  If there's a sport or activity, there are parents who want to be involved because their kid's in it. My daughter, who was a freshman at the time, joined her high school's choir.  Actually, she was asked to join the elite Chamber Choir, and for the first time in my parenting history, I had a child in an organization with a booster club I wanted to join.  My oldest son, who is two years older, participates in minimal activities, and not any with booster clubs, so no chances there.  Until now... A very pleasant side benefit of doing this "stuff for my kids" is that I've grown close with a few of the other women, so much so that when our big fundraiser was done in December, we wanted to keep getting together. Thus, the Mad Moms (our big fundraiser is called a Madrigal Dinner..."Mad...

In Which I Suspect I Have Latent Tendencies...Much Like The Hulk, Or Similar

I find in most normally functioning families, the members have a distinguishing role or legacy or skill of some kind. Like, he's the smart one.  Or, he's the religious one.  Or...she's the glue that helps the fam together.  Or, she's the savvy one, so she's the Power of Attorney. In my family, that system went something like this: My dad was The Dad.  Cantankerous, crotchety, and especially tight with daughters' curfew times.  Also, not a fan of driving in Big Cities. My mom was the long-suffering, patient, reserved one. My brother was the baby, the one who got away with murder, the namesake, and also, Frosty Hoarder. Me?  My legacy?  The Ruiner of Remote Controls.  No lie.  Although I've repressed the memories, my parents claim I destroyed at least two remotes in my tenure as Child Under The Roof.  Remote #1: milk spillage; Remote #2: applesauce spillage. So, now you see why my younger brother was the favorite. Anyway, t...