Food (ongoing)

[desperance]

I do love making stock. I taste it every half-hour or so, and there's a chartable progression: first it tastes entirely of the herbs that have gone in there (rosemary and thyme, today). Then the vegetables (onion, leek, carrot). It takes a good hour or longer for the primary constituent, the meatiness to start coming through. Then that seems to dominate for a while, before it all settles down into a harmonious balance.

Meaty fatty bones cost me fifteen pence at the market, for a bagful. If you roast them first, which I do, then that takes most of the fat off so you don't have to skim the stock so much, and yields the secondary pleasure of making your kitchen smell gorgeously of roasted beef. The tertiary pleasure, of course, is a panful of beef dripping. Which, spread on bread with a scatter of crunchy salt, is not quite as good as marrow-on-toast, but we're talking minimal distinctions here. It will definitely do. And, as I say, 15p. Three bob in old money. The rewards of thrift are as old-fashioned as its pursuit, but as pleasurable as ever they were.

Comments

[lamentables.livejournal.com]

Have you copied this to your bank manager ;)

[wishus.livejournal.com]

Mention beef-dripping on toast to my mom and she goes all dreamy-eyed!

[madrobins]

Now you've gone and made me think of making stock, on an otherwise slothful day. Old bones. I'm sadly certain they'll cost me more than 15p, even discounting the miserable state of the dollar.

[bluehairsue.livejournal.com]

Haven't had much to say for myself recently, but I just wanted to let you know that being a virtual guest at your meals makes me feel... nourished. It's lovely. And thank you.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

You're welcome. Virtually or otherwise. I never really feel that I eat alone any more...