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2009-12-01: child labour (and why it is illegal)
This past weekend I somehow found the time and the energy to make a big batch of chicken stock. My stock provisions were almost exhausted and I don't ever like to be without it in my freezer - it's just so much better than store-bought! My brother had cooked two roast chickens during the week and the non-edible leftovers were begging to be simmered slowly over a few hours until they turned into gorgeous, silky smooth, delectable stock.
I don't frequently have much assistance in the kitchen but this weekend was a bit different. I just couldn't say no to an extra pair of hands when it came to chopping, peeling, stirring and straining.
Please -- be careful with that pot of water and don't -- well don't spill any more of it -- on the cat's head!
Anyway, where was I? Right I had "help". We managed to get the huge stock pot full of cold water and chicken bits and bones on the stove, and turned the heat up under it.
Watch out! That burner is quick to heat up Don't drop the tea towel on it!
When I make stock I generally just add bits and pieces from whatever is left over in the fridge; anything that might make it richer or tastier (lemons, horseradish, garlic, shallots, sun dried tomatoes, various herbs, the green parts of leeks - all are delicious in chicken stock!). And I just chop everything into hunks without much finesse because it's all discarded after wards. I rarely peel onions unless they look dirty and garlic generally goes in whole, maybe slightly smashed to let out some juices.
That knife is very sharp - be um, be a bit more careful, after I get you a band-aid for your finger.
Everything goes into the pot and I bring it to the boil and then allow it to all simmer happily for a few hours. Then I strain, strain and strain again, using cheese cloth. I cool it in the fridge and then I skim off the layer of fat that settles on the top.
Hey! That pot is teetering on the edge of the shelf in the fridge! Don't shut the door just yet!
CRASH.
Children are at the best of times, a tremendous help in the kitchen - I was when I was younger, at least. I'm sure he means well, but being three and a half and having the attention span of an inanimate object sometimes doesn't make for a good chef.
I promptly went out and bought Leith a set of small pots, pans and utensils so he can "cook" alongside me this weekend in the kitchen. He'll be up at the counter still I'm certain, but perhaps neither of us will end up with bandages or bruises this time.
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