so, bones

After the meat, and a couple of big bones for the delectation of the dog, what about the other bones? Neck bones didn't make it out this time, two rounds through that portion pretty much wrecked any use out of those bits, but we still had bones from quarters:



Part of those bones were the knuckle ends from the shanks, lots of meat and sinew and such on those. Bones mean stock, building block for so many things. Bones and veg:





I'd leave the skin on the onions for color and flavor, but these were dirty and in bad shape. Beside, plenty of flavor from the leek leaves.

Some bones roasted, some raw, for a mix of flavor.



Two twenty quart stock pots to start. The silver pot on the right has stock from a pan that was deglazed with red wind and that includes some roasted tomato paste, the black pot on the left is a simpler concoction of bones and veg. Both have bruised peppercorns and bay leaves.



Now, Michael Ruhlman says (in "Elements of Cooking") never to boil stock, that you'll lose to much flavor. Jacques Pepin and Julia Child and various others say "bring it to a boil". I'm of the latter school. A nice boil and skim off all the foam and floaty bits.





Cook for about six hours at what Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall describes as a "nervous shimmer", just short of a boil, then the clear stock is reduced by about a quarter, the dark stock strained, then reduced by a good third. The result?

.



So, about twenty quarts of stock in all. The light stock is very neutral, very similar to veal stock though without quite as much body. The dark stock is a bit more intense and is destined for a few batches of bordelaise with orxy and frites and other sauce, as the wine comes through despite all the cooking and reduction.

Next, yet more bits.