The Secret Is Not Swanson

While watching the "Top Chef" premiere last night I was subjected to a bevy of food promotion, including a Thanksgiving-themed ad touting the wonders of boxed Swanson chicken broth. Michael Ruhlman feels strongly that if given the choice between boxed or canned stock, you should just use water. I won't lie, one box 'o broth does reside in my pantry -- but most of the time, I use my own, straight from the freezer.

Chicken stock recipes abound, but here's how I make a very basic quantity of low-fat, no-salt stock:

2.5 pounds (more or less) of mixed chicken parts -- can be carcasses from roasters you've saved and frozen, wing tips, necks, backs, gizzards. Cooked or uncooked, just make sure the skin and fat have been removed. I throw in a handful of chicken feet, which are perhaps not the most appealing chicken part, but they help the stock gel marvelously. (Locals can buy large, cheap bags of frozen chicken feet and necks from Arnold's.)

I heap them in my slow cooker, cover with water -- 8+ cups -- and cook on low for about 8 hours.

Or you can throw the chicken stuff in a pot, cover with water, and just barely simmer for a few hours, skimming occasionally. You can also roast the bones first. You can add a quartered onion, carrot, celery stalk, and parsley to the water. Or not.

Pour off the stock from the bones and other stuff -- you can strain it if you want -- into a large bowl, then set into a sink full of ice water (those frozen icepacks work great to chill). Let it cool and gel, uncovered. Skim the fat off the surface. Or you can put it into the fridge, uncovered, until the fat has risen to the surface, skim. Then put into containers and freeze or the fridge and use within a few days.

It's an inexpensive, easy, forgiving recipe, and you're making use of throwaway parts to create a base for something tasty -- like a soup, gravy, or sauce. Now THAT'S the secret.

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For my first ever traditional Thanksgiving dinner, I'll be making my own turkey stock, thanks to Bon Appetit's recipe. More on this soon, as Thanksgiving approaches.

THE CHEESE PROJECT, Episode One: Ricotta

Probably one reason why dieting has never worked for me is that I've never been able to bid goodbye to cheese, even temporarily. A chocolate moratorium? No problem. But I have a long-standing passion for all kinds of cheese (REAL cheese), and it probably motivated me to learn to cook as a child. Scrambled eggs, with cheese. Open-face farm cheddar oozing off wheat toast with a dill pickle on the side...coating my mom's toaster oven with grease, I'm sure, but yeah, tasty stuff.

Our proximity to Vermont means great cheese is made just over the border. Even closer is Ricki the Cheese Queen, of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle fame, based in Ashfield. Her site, cheesemaking.com, has pretty much everything you need to know to make cheese at home, so if you're not charmed by my prose, it's probably not a bad idea to head on over there instead.

Still with me? Thanks. I picked up Ricki's cheese kit at the Ashfield Hardware Store (despite utterly lacking cell phone service, Ashfield has a lot going for it -- Elmer's is supposed to offer a great breakfast, and the Fall Festival is something to see).

Click on the below for a few captioned shots of the process!

Cheese Project

The kit includes rennet tabs, citric acid (also useful for canning), "cheese salt," "buttercloth" (why not "cheesecloth?"), a glass thermometer, and a handy instruction list.

All you need is a gallon of "good" milk, organic is best, but local is good. Ultrapasteurized and "long life" milk do not work for cheesemaking. I was able to pick up a very heavy half-gallon glass bottle of Mapleline Farm whole milk, made right here in Hadley, at Whole Foods, but had to supplement with 1/2 gallon of Whole Foods milk of unknown provenance -- which was a bit of a problem, as you'll see shortly.

I decided to go with the ricotta recipe. Added the milk, 1 tsp of citric acid, and 1tsp of cheese salt, stirred in a stainless steel pot.

Stirred and stirred to avoid scorching the milk, and took the temperature from time to time. Goal was 195 degrees, at which point, the curds separate. Right away the milk looked "curdy" -- not sure that will show up in the photo, but a few thick clumps floated to the top within about 5 minutes of stovetop time.

I am not sure the glass thermometer was the way to go for temperature reading -- I switched back and forth between that and an instant-read digital thermometer. Watching the red mercury rise reminded me of the days when I would beg to stay home sick from school...but it also got a little tedious. However, the instant-read had a smaller probe, so it's possible it was not getting a very accurate reading deep within the hot milk. Next time I may try a clip-on candy thermometer.

When the thermometer(s) reached 195, the curds floated to the top in a sold mass, leaving a yellowish whey beneath them. I let the pot sit for 5 minutes, and lined a colander with buttercloth and set it into a large bowl.

I ladled the curds into the colander, draining awhey (sorry) away the whey. Sure looked like ricotta, and smelled great.

But...something was missing, as in half the projected yield of 2 pounds. Which makes me think that the Whole Foods milk is ultra-pasteurized, even though there was no indicator on the packaging. I have to wonder what's being lost by purchasing food that's been processed on a mass scale. If ultra-pasteurized milk does not chemically react like it should in a recipe, I doubt we are seeing its full nutritional benefits when we consume it. And this is Whole Foods, the paragon of large-scale grocers.

Anyway, Ricki instructs you to "hang" the cheese/buttercloth for a half hour until you reach the desired texture. I had no cheese hook sitting around in my kitchen, so I Macguyvered a chip clip and a bowl.

In the future I will probably not drain for 30 minutes as it became too dry (perhaps also due to smaller yield) -- I added back some of the whey.

It is tastier than store-bought ricotta, and I'm not just saying that because I stirred a pot full of milk for 15 minutes. It's sweeter, with a more rounded mouthfeel; I could taste that this was a MILK product. Not at all reminiscent of library paste, or cottage cheese. I stuffed it into some manicotti with some leftover mozzarella and chopped basil from the Aerogarden, defrosted pasta sauce and dumped it on top with grated Parmesan, baked for 30 mins covered, 5 minutes uncovered.

By the whey (d'oh!) I highly recommend scraping remaining curds from the pot of directly into your mouth, if you don't mind burning your tongue.

Overall, this was a satisfying experiment -- easy, quick, with a minimal number of dishes to wash. I'm not sure I'll make a habit out of it, as it was a pain to get the "good" milk (Mapleline, please deliver to Greenfield!). There's no cost-saving argument to be made, either:

Half gallon Mapleline = $3.29
Bottle deposit = $2.00 (refundable)
Half gallon Whole Foods = $2.70 est. (wasted)

2 pounds of "regular" store ricotta = $4.00 est.

Now we could call this "artisan" ricotta, and charge $5/pound, I suppose.

But really, try making your own ricotta because
-- it tastes better and you can use organic local milk
-- it makes a great story for your friends
-- it's a fun way to spend a half hour or so, and you learn something.

Coming soon, THE CHEESE PROJECT, EPISODE TWO: Mozzarella Wars.

Cheez

 

More later!