Super Stock

I love making stock so much that it's probably the most enjoyable part of cooking a chicken. It's cheap, delicious, can be altered in a thousand ways so it's never dull, and is the basis of innumerable great dishes.


With the carcass of a roast chicken to use up last week it actually fell to the Dear Leader (may her detractors shrivel like salted slugs) to start the stock off, a rare foray into the kitchen other than in an advisory capacity. To the carrots, onions, ginger and bay leaves she had incorporated I added a few rather tired but usable sticks of celery, a head of our own garlic, one of the few left from a disappointing season, and a load of spices - black cardamom pods, red and black peppercorns, some coriander seed, a star anise, some allspice berries... The more flavour you put in, the more you get out.


Once the initial albumen scum has been cleared from the surface, watching it give occasional little blips is a therapeutic exercise, repeated over a good two and a half hours as the liquid simmers ever so gently to maximise the flavour without clouding up. The aroma wafting up through the house is another mood lifter. And of course the end product is life-enhancing - tasty, complex, savoury, like a good wine but without the after-effects. As soon as the cooking is over I like to strain the liquid off the veg and bones, as left to cool on them it can develop some stale undertones.


As you'd expect with an ingredients list like that, the first use I made of the finished article was in a Chinese dish, a mushroom and vegetable-rich noodle soup-cum-stew into which, inauthentically, we stirred spoonfuls of the Mexican-inspired chili sauce made by Sternest Critic to preserve our bumper chili crop remains. A good soup needs a very good stock - I recall (probably not for the first time, my apologies) Chris Johnson, then owner of The Village Restaurant in Ramsbottom, being very upset that having paid £20  (and this in the early Nineties) for a bowl of soup in an extremely famous French restaurant owned by an extremely famous French chef, the stock was watery and boring. It spoiled what should have been - if critics were to be believed - the meal of a lifetime.


No such problem with our bowl of Chinese-y goodness. It was warmly spicy, onion sweet, and deep in colour and flavour. Satisfying to the palate, soothing on the stomach, and warming for the soul - and for pennies.

Not That I'm Obsessive

Our decision to trim a kilo or two before jetting off to the sun had me reaching for the calorie counter - bought when wife and heir abandoned me to go diving in Egypt with their club and I tried the 5/2 diet for its anti poorly badness benefits rather than for weight loss. I used that to sort out what I could have for 600 kcals: answer 4/5ths of bugger all. Looking at packet info too - hastily put Doritos back when I saw what that said, and more surprisingly Special K with red berries.

Unsurprising but comforting is the fact that fresh vegetables, with a few exceptions (avocados stick in the mind) are very low calorie, especially if steamed. Egg noodles far fewer cals than rice, even boiled rice, so our Chinese tonight will have them for bulk (with prawns, another surprisingly low calorie ingredient), turkey with mange tout (for some reason super cheap yesterday at the supermarket), steamed pak choi, and a mushroom, water chestnut and bamboo shoot (both delicious and negligible kcals) and bean sprout stir fry in a tsp of sesame oil. Soy sauce is another winner.

What I found from that brief flirtation with the 5/2 diet (I learned afterwards that you don't need to do the two days at 600 kcals together) was that raw veg and fruit fill you up, I normally go way over the top with dressing, it's flavour as much as volume that I missed, and with a target like 600 kcals I became even more obsessive about food than normal. Food is one of life's great pleasures and a boiled egg (about 75 kcals) shouldn't be the culinary highlight of the day.

Cheapo Chinese

Saturday night as so often was Chinese feast night, but with a twist - it was the first of our campaign for two veggie evening meals (or nearly) a week. One of my favourite things from takeaway Chinese meals is stewed mushrooms which I reproduced as a dish last night, simplicity itself, also cheap thanks to a big buy of mega 'shroom box at Morrison's.

Quartered fungi lightly fried then finished in soy sauce and cheaty chicken cube stock, thickened with cornflour and pepped up with star anise, and stewed for ages on a very low heat to infuse the flavour. The lot cost maybe £1, which compares well with the £2.50 at least that it would cost if bought in.

I love mushrooms, and they are one of the few foods that don't seem to have shot up in price recently - homegrown, not very demanding, and doubtless hefty competition for the supermarket slot stopping producers from pushing prices upwards. Bought in big boxes they are a bargain too. Memo to self, eat more mushrooms on veggie nights, and not just risotto either.

New Year and Using Stuff Up

The usual suspect Christmas leftovers are long gone - a turkey crown means that the meat is a memory well before it becomes a recurring nightmare, and what was left of our sirloin transformed into the traditional cold cuts on Boxing Day, fabulous butties the next, and a stir fry and Chinese soup another. Others remain, or remained, yesterday's main meal a determined effort to make the best of them.

Thus a chicken carcase (am using the alternative spelling in the hope a friend keen to help me mend the error of my orthographical ways will correct it - curses, think she may spot that trap now) sitting in the fridge after a weekend festive meal with mates became stock yesterday afternoon that then made minestrone in the evening (the rest for tonight's risotto). And the dog-ends of cheese, some of it rather fine cheese, flavoured a sauce that helped stretch the tinned salmon (how very 1970s again) and kippers in a fish pie topped with mash from same weekend repast.

When the good-housekeeper stuff of using up Christmas bits before they are only fit for the bin is done I will turn to my foodie New Year's resolution, which is to have at least two vegetarian evening meals a week, and one based on fish. The inspirations behind this are several: environmental guilt about using too much meat and meat-farming using too many of the earth's resources; economy; health matters; and stretching my culinary abilities and repertoire - it is too easy to fall into the routine of planning a meal around a slab of bloody protein.

Re-Train Your Gravy

Too convoluted a title?

A simple idea for using up surplus gravy - so about 12 million households currently then - beyond the traditional moistening of turkey sarnies.

On the 20th we committed a major sin against the austerity cannon by buying in Chinese - I can blame my visiting father whose idea it was. The next day, though we had imbibed very modestly, both my wife and I felt headachey, maybe the MSG at fault. So we prefer homemade, and a soup should always be part of any Chinese banquet (when you attend posh ones you get several), thus on the 27th I made the following as part of a full Chinese meal.

I had half a gravy-boat of beefy goodness from Christmas Day (as we had a small piece of sirloin to go with the turkey crown). A chopped onion and finely diced carrot were fried until the onion was taking on a hint of colour, then a huge clove of garlic in the thinnest slices was added along with a de-seeded chili, and the gravy poured over the lot. Topped up with water and spiced with plenty of star anise and 5-spice the soup was simmered for 20 minutes, then a handful of sirloin in cubes and the same amount of sweetcorn kernels dropped in, and finally some pre-soaked noodles.

It's a recipe with endless variations possible, but the core of the thing is the affinity of beef and star anise.