Veal Stock - Day 3.

Rosie Hawthorne cordially invites to the marriage of Veal Stock #1 and Veal Stock #2

On the left is Ruhlman's Veal Stock #1, full of gelatinous goodnosity. On the right, Ruhlman's Veal Stock #2, the remouillage, or second extraction of flavors.

Here, I'm pouring Veal Stock #2 into Veal Stock #1.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Rosie's version of The French Laundry's Veal Stock #1 and the second extraction, Veal Stock #2.

In this case, Veal stock #2, going into the pot, is more gelatinous than Veal stock #1.

Here we have the marriages. Ruhlman's Veal Stock #3 on the left. FL Veal Stock #3 on the right. Getting ready to simmer.

Slowly bring to a simmer. This takes about 2 hours.

Skim, skim, skim. This scum almost has a cellophane appearance.

And skim some more.

This has been going about 8 hours. Look how much it has reduced.

Ruhlman's stock fits into this small container.

Then I had the brilliant idea of pouring the stock into ice cube trays.

Here's the FL stock.

I filled up two ice cube trays with veal stock.

And here's the rest of the stock. Ready for the freezer. You know, I've made chicken and beef stocks, and chicken and beef consommes. I thought my chicken consomme was like the Cadillac of Consommes. Then I had my beef consomme. Ahh, a Porsche. Then I made veal stock. It was velvety, mahogany, smooth, silky, sexy. Like a Jaguar XKE, with the top down, screaming down the open highway at 90 MPH. (Mr. Hawthorne used to have a Jag when we were a-courtin'.) Carol, of CarolCooksKeller blog fame, and I do mean fame, waxed poetically on veal stock months ago. And I quote from her: But before we do that, let me blather on a little more about veal stock. When Michael Ruhlman published The Elements of Cooking, he spent a lot of time in interviews talking about veal stock (he actually wrote an essay about veal stock for the book, and called it "the home cook's most valuable ingredient"). It's something I paid attention to, because prior to cracking open The French Laundry Cookbook, I don't think I really thought about a) whether or not veal stock existed, and b) that it really is a thing of beauty. There are those who believe veal stock is unnecessary. Those people are idiots. In fact, there was a great debate on eGullet not long ago, in which some folks claimed that veal stock was difficult to do, or hard to find ingredients for, or just too much work and that beef stock was sufficient. They are sadly misguided. And also probably have bad breath. I'm just sayin'. Now, I'm not one to delve down into the nitty-gritty of arguments like that because I obviously don't have the culinary training or expertise that some folks have, but damnit -- I have a palate that can tell the difference between dishes made with veal stock versus beef stock, and it DOES make a difference, because veal stock has a certain, distinct neutrality to it. And, if I may get all science-y on you for a minute, because the bones are from a young animal they contain more collagen, which when it breaks down into gellatin gives the veal stock an unparalleled body you just can't get from older bones. But let me explain it in more Carol-like terms:

Beef stock tastes like Chef-Boy-R-Dee ravioli. Veal stock is more velvety than actual velvet. Beef stock is a sweaty, hairy truck driver on the final leg of a cross-country haul, in which he stopped only to sleep, not shower. Veal stock is like standing naked under a gentle waterfall in the sunlight. Beef stock makes your house smell like farts. Veal stock makes your house smell like home.

Beef stock is not veal stock. And don't even get me started on the canned stocks -- they should be outlawed. But that's a rant for another day, and another blog. Back to the task at hand: Let's talk about how to make veal stock from The French Laundry Cookbook. Ah, Carol. You just shoot from the hip. And you speak the truth. And we mere mortals can only hope to come close to your culinary coattails. I applaud you.

Rosie Finishes Her Veal Stock After Three Days Of Simmering - The Stock, Not Rosie.

I was planting some seeds this morning and this little fellow jumped out of one of my pots.

Isn't he cute? Now, back to the veal stock.

Remember Day 2 of the Great Veal Stock Caper? On the left is veal stock #1. On the right is veal stock #2 which is the remouillage, the remoistening, or second extraction from the bones.

I poured veal stock #2 into veal stock #1. And today, Day 3 of the Great Veal Stock Caper, I brought veal stocks 1 and 2 to a simmer and simmered for 6-8 hours.

Ta-daaaaa! Just under 3/4 cup of syrupy, rich, intense veal stock. Not to mention thick and delicious. I can't wait until I get my real veal bones. Then I'll start all over and see what I end up with. Now can someone tell me what the hell I do with this stuff? Carol? Anybody?

Ooooh. Look at Rosie in the veal stock.

Veal Stock - Day 1.

I was finally able to procure veal bones (at $2.99/pound - yikes) so yesterday I started on Phase 1 of a veal stock marathon, if you will. I decided to follow both Thomas Keller's recipe from The French Laundry and Michael Ruhlman's recipe from The Elements of Cooking. Now, I'm very excited about this since I had made my faux veal stock before, using maybe 4 ounces of veal bones that I extracted from a $30 veal shoulder roast, and it turned out to be the ambrosia of the culinary Gods. After simmering, skimming, coddling, and watching for hours over a three day period, I was finally rewarded with 3/4 cup of gastronomic gold.

First, I rinsed the bones in cold water.

Ruhlman's directions called for the veal bones to be cut into three inch pieces, but that's a pain in the butt. I separated as many of the bones as I could but you'd need a chain saw to get through some of them and I had to draw the line somewhere.

These bones are for Ruhlman's stock. I placed them on an oiled baking pan and they're ready to go into a 450 degree oven to roast.

The bones for The French Laundry stock go into a large stock pot.

Fill with twice as much water as bones.

After an hour in the oven, these bones are ready. And if you ever make this, please let me know if you can put all the bones in the stock pot without so much as nibble. I don't think you can.

I poured in about 5 quarts of water and proceeded to Step 1 - blanching the bones.

And set both stock pots over low heat to bring to a simmer very slowly. Probably took about 1 1/2 hours to get to a bare simmer.

Ruhlman's stock on the left. French Laundry on the right.

Every now and then, I would move the bones around, letting more impurities rise to the surface, which I skimmed off. The purpose of the blanching is to coagulate the blood proteins and draw out the impurities. As soon as the French Laundry stock came to a simmer, I removed it from the heat. According to Keller (so it must be true), if you allow the liquid to simmer any longer, more flavor is extracted from the bones into a liquid that's just going to be discarded anyway, rather than into the liquid that's going to end up as your stock.

Yes, you heard me correctly. Discarded. This pained me. Truly it did. Ruhlman's stock, however, is left on the burner to just barely simmer for 10 hours. Yes, 10 HOURS.

Next the bones were washed off in cold water to remove any scum and stop the cooking process. The bones need to be rinsed while still hot, else the impurities will cling to the bones and cloud your stock.

After rinsing the bones and cleaning the stock pot, I added in the water, placed back on the burner, and slowly brought to a simmer. This takes another 1 1/2 - 2 hours just to bring it up to the simmer. Meanwhile, I started prepping the aromatics to add in.

First I rinsed the leeks in the sink to try and get out as much dirt as I could.

Peel back the leaves, cause they're full of dirt.

I sliced the leaks lengthwise and rinsed well.

Parsley, thyme, and bay leaves.

And the rest for the French Laundry stock: tomato paste carrots leeks onions garlic tomatoes

As soon as my FL stock came to a simmer, I added the tomato paste, then all the aromatics.

And the tomatoes go in.

Parsley and thyme.

Ruhlman's on the left. FL on the right. Ruhlman's stock has been at a bare simmer for hours. After adding the ingredients to the FL stock, I brought it back up to a simmer, and simmered away for 4 hours.

After four hours, I strained the liquid through colanders and sieves and cheese cloth.

The pot of stock #1 goes into an ice bath for a rapid cool, then into the refrigerater to chill until the next day, when I start on stock #2.

And here's French Laundry stock #1.

Save the bones and aromatics in the fridge for stock #2. Now, Ruhlman's stock is still simmering away. I started at 10 am. At 9 pm, I added the aromatics.

This is for Ruhlman's stock: leeks onions carrots celery garlic tomato paste thyme parsley bay leaf crushed peppercorns

Heated the stock up again to just below simmering, and cooked for one more hour.

Finally, after 10 pm, I strained the stock.

Save the bones and aromatics for the next day for stock #2.

Ruhlman's stock #1.

Nighty night, my pretties. Sleep well. We'll start over in the morning.