Broth Jokes
May 7, 2010
IN MORE THAN 20 years of marriage, I have made, as mentioned before, many hundreds of gallons of chicken broth. A poultry vendor nearby sells six-pound bags of chicken bones for $2.69. I put the bones in a pot of water, add onions, carrots and bay leaves, and let it sit on the stove for hours, often ignored until late at night when my husband pours it into a container and puts it in the refrigerator. I make soups and sauces with the broth for very little money. If I could summon all the broth I have made, we would be awash in stock. I could sail to France on a broth sea or fill the Grand Canyon with soup. I have made so much of the stuff that my husband has dabbled in broth jokes. Here are a few.
What American novelist won the Pulitzer Prize in 1997?
Philip Broth
What is the best way to save for retirement?
With a Broth IRA (invested in the stock market.)
What is a house of vice?
A brothel.
— Comments —
Jenny writes:
Those jokes are cute. I’ll be sure to tell them to my husband who never fails to ask, “What’s going on in there?,” when the same pot has been on the stove for 24 hours. I’m amazed at how easy it is to make good stock and, like yourself, I’ve made many gallons. I’ve only been doing this for two years but will continue to do so until I’m no longer able. Hopefully with all the healthy broth we consume around here, we’ll be in good health for years to come.
Laura writes:
So you’re husband lives in a brothel too. Once you start engaging in this casual sorcery, it becomes an effortless habit. The things you can do with broth are endless: soup, risotto, pasta sauces. I dislike the canned stuff; it’s expensive and doesn’t taste anything like the real thing. And, I freeze a lot of my extra stock.
By the way, a vegetarian once walked into my house when a big pot of bones was on the stove and said, “It smells fantastic in here.” You can make a vegetarian version of broth of course.
Nadege writes:
Very very funny! I know this is kind of sad but how about an EXACT ( pounds of bones, water, spices, etc) recipe for this delicious broth???
Laura writes:
I will tell you the recipe, but I can’t be super-exact. Broth cooking is variable and improvisational. Since I started this blog and my attention has been diverted, I have sometimes only used bones and water.
Typically I take six pounds of chicken bones (I prefer the rib bones) or about six pounds of chicken legs. You can use the carcass of a roasted chicken instead. I put them in a large stock pot and cover with water (with about four inches of water above the bones.) Add two peeled onions; two stalks of celery; two peeled carrots, cut in half; and three dried or fresh bay leaves. If you have leeks, add one or two and it will be much, much better, but don’t go out of your way just to get leeks. Add a few black peppercorns. If you poke a few dried cloves into the onions, that also adds an interesting je ne sais quoi. I never add salt.
Bring it to a light boil. DO NOT LET IT COME TO A FULL BOIL, or you’re broth will be cloudy. If you do let it come to a full boil by mistake, as I occasionally do through inattention, don’t cry. It will still be excellent. Simmer for anywhere from two to ten hours. Add more water to cover the bones as it reduces, but don’t add any in the last hour or so. If you can keep it at a very low simmer, the flavor will be slowly extracted from the bones. If you want a rich broth, add a whole chicken cut up or a turkey wing. (You can remove the breasts early on and prepare them in some other way.)
Strain. Let it cool before you refrigerate. A layer of fat will congeal on the surface. Remove this before using. If you leave the fat in place, the broth can be kept for more than a week. Once the fat is removed, it keeps in the refrigerator for four days. Freeze without fat. It’s good to freeze small pint servings for sauces. Some people put broth in ice cube trays. The sight of broth cubes in the freezer is not always appealing.
John E. writes:
You’ll find this odd, but growing up, I had a certain sibling who really enjoyed cooking, and he took what seemed to me was an irrational interest in creating the perfect broth. Unbelievably, he would spend hours trying to perfect it. Since this sibling and I were particularly close, I was often distraught at how little attention he paid to me compared to his cooking. I remember one particular instance when my friend was over, and I was playing ball with him in the backyard. We needed another player, and my sibling would have fit the bill, except he was engrossed in his broth creation. I finally came to wit’s end trying to convince my sibling what a louse he was to ignore me in the backyard. My dad overheard my exasperation. He saw how loyal my friend was in comparison to my sibling, and in his wisdom exclaimed, “There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.”
Laura writes:
Very funny. Your family must have benefited from your broth-er’s skills.
I have never heard of a boy making broth!
John writes:
Neither have I – I made it all up. Dang it! I guess I don’t know my own power of persuasion!
Laura writes:
It sounded mythical.
John writes:
I do have a brother, but I couldn’t imagine him taking the slightest interest in broth, except to eat it.
Laura writes:
I guess it’s too late for him to be a stock broker.
Jim B. writes:
The good folks over at the Weston A. Price Foundation see broth as a “superfood.” They advocate a “brothel in every town.”
Laura writes:
An organic brothel, I suppose. That reminds me, I completely forgot to mention the well-documented medicinal value of broth, and apparently it’s an aphrodisiac too.
Sally Fallon writes in the article you linked:
A cure-all in traditional households and the magic ingredient in classic gourmet cuisine, stock or broth made from bones of chicken, fish and beef builds strong bones, assuages sore throats, nurtures the sick, puts vigor in the step and sparkle in love life–so say grandmothers, midwives and healers. For chefs, stock is the magic elixir for making soul-warming soups and matchless sauces.
Lisa writes:
When your husband can’t find you, he can just yell, “O, Broth-er, Where Art Thou?”
And if anyone should ever be so rude as to ask him whether you’ve put on a few pounds lately, he’ll answer, “She ain’t heavy; she’s my broth-er.”
Just never EVER leave the house with deer bone broth simmering. I haven’t been allowed to forget the time we came home to a houseful of smoke and a most sickening smell.
Laura writes:
Never tried deer bone broth, let alone burnt deer bone broth. That would make a great opening scene for a novel:
When she opened the door, the breath of the burnt deer bone broth wafted through the house, reminding her of ancient squaws standing before fires, the blackened bones conjuring ancestral spirits and healing the simmering divisions in a dispossessed tribe.
(I’m thinking of a women’s book club book. Maybe Oprah. You know, the feminine divine, deer bones, etc.)
Randy B. writes:
This whole thread broth-ers me.
Postmodern Antiquarian writes:
Too many stock phrases.
