Two Gallons of Lamb Stock

What was I thinking? The day before we left for Thanksgiving with the rellies, my farmer friend dropped off some lamb bones she didn't have time to deal with. When she called to ask whether I wanted them, she didn't mention that they were huge, nor that she was talking about 15 pounds or so of bones with plenty of meaty bits on them. But how could I say no? These were lamb bones from her own pastured animals fed an organic diet. I rarely turn down free offers, and this certainly wasn't going to be one of those occasions.

Silly me, I thought it would be a good idea to warm the house up by roasting the bones and making stock out of them the day before we left home. Honestly, there wasn't much choice, since the apple cider had taken up all the free space in the freezer. The bones wouldn't have fit in there to be dealt with later. It was a very cold day, and the soup I incorporated it into for dinner that night did hit the spot. There were so many bones I couldn't easily fit them all in my largest skillet, a massive 15-incher. They were fatty enough that they needed no extra oil. A few peeled carrots formed a bed of sorts for the bones at the bottom of the skillet. I rummaged around in the freezer until I came up with my bag of saved parsley stems. Leek greens salvaged from a few homegrown leeks adorned the bones as well.

The bones produced an intensely meaty smell as they roasted. Unfortunately, only the top ones were getting brown, so after the first hour and a half, I removed the top ones to let the lower ones darken too. When they were cool, I realized that neither were they going to fit into my two largest stock pots. I had to ask my husband to get out the (rarely used) cleaver and the protective eye wear. He swung the cleaver, marrow and bone bits flew everywhere, and some evidence was left on our now properly christened butcher block.

Into the pots went the bones, the deglazed roasted carrots, and deeply charred leek greens. There were so many bones that I only simmered them for about an hour and a half. By that time the flavor was almost too intense. Normally, I would have been a glutton and let it simmer for 3-4 hours, but time was short that day.


Some of the stock went into a harvest meal soup, which I'll post about soon. I had to dilute the stock by about 50% for the flavor not to overwhelm all the other ingredients. The rest of the highly concentrated stock filled up eight (!) quart containers. The diluted lamb stock was all the meat we needed in an otherwise vegetarian soup.

It's nice to feel that we helped thoroughly use up this animal, so that less of it went to waste. I feel it's more respectful of the animal's life to value and use every bit of it. It also pleased my frugal side to wind up with two gallons of double strength lamb stock for a material outlay of about 15 cents. (The organic carrots were store bought in bulk.) This rich ingredient will form the basis of many, many meals for us.

I've also gotten an invitation from my farming friend to make haggis the next time she slaughters some lambs. That will use up the lungs, heart, liver, tongue and stomach of the animal, parts that in the past have been feed to her dogs or gone to waste entirely.

If you're interested in making stock here's a list of tips:

1. always peel your carrots (the skins will otherwise contribute a greenish hue)
2. just about any part of an onion is fair game: trimmings, leek green bits, etc
3. celery leaves and trimmings, and stems from herbs boost flavor (and can be frozen)
   
4. it's fine, in fact preferable, to use bones with a little meat on them
5. poultry, beef, and lamb bones make great stock, pork bones not so much
6. unless there's a good bit of fat on the bones, you may want to oil them lightly before roasting
7. use a wide pan for roasting, with sides at least a few inches high, a large skillet works
8. spread the bones in single layer as well as possible
9. if you've salvage bones from some roasted meat, there's no need to roast them a second time, but bones roasted on their own produce better flavor in the stock
10. roasted organs/giblets add wonderful flavor to stocks, except for the liver, which imparts a slightly muddy flavor
11. the skin and the legs of animals (shanks, feet) add gelatin to the stock.  If you want a gelatinous stock, include them.  If you want a thin stock, don't.
12. roast at high temperature (~400 F, 200 C) for at least 1 hour, depending on size and quantity of bones
    
13. bones should be well browned by the roasting
14. always deglaze the roasting pan with liquid (loosen the stuck on brown bits) and add the liquid to the stock pot
15. never boil the stock vigorously as you prepare it; it should barely simmer
    
16. skim and remove the scum that rises to the top for the first 10 minutes as the stock begins to simmer
17. when finished, strain the stock through a cheese cloth or fine strainer
18. chill and remove the fat if desired
19. if you're in a hurry, ice cubes added to the top of a somewhat cooled pot of stock will congeal the fat for easy removal

PASA's Farming for the Future Conference

Before getting back to our regularly scheduled content after the holiday, I'm going to make a plug for one of my favorite organizations, and a great upcoming opportunity for anyone who takes food issues seriously.

PASA is the Pennsylvania Association for Sustainable Agriculture. They're a non-profit group of farmers, consumers, and those of us who are sort of in between, who work to address issues of sustainable farming, local food, and food quality. I don't think of PASA as a faceless group, or a non-profit entity. When I think of PASA, I think of the real people I know, small scale farmers who still give a damn about the food they produce and the people they help to feed. I think of the incredible wealth of knowledge that I have access to because of PASA, the contacts I've made, mentors I've met, and the local grass-fed and -finished prime rib of beef I'll be preparing for Christmas dinner.

Each year PASA holds its annual Farming for the Future Conference in State College, PA. It's held in chilly early February, about the only time of year farmers in these parts can reasonably be expected to get away from their farms. I've attended this conference for the last three years, and I plan to do so next year too. Every single year I've come away energized, excited, having made new contacts, and having learned invaluable things that I, a dabbling homesteader, can take home and put into practice on my 2/3 acre suburban lot. Most of the people who attend are Pennsylvania farmers, including many Amish, but I've met many plenty of non-farmers and folks from Vermont, Ohio, Maryland, New York, and Virginia too.

If your interests include high quality food, gardening, homesteading, crop or livestock farming, building local economies or viable communities, local food, organics, post petroleum age sustainability, value added farm products, community supported agriculture, or anything loosely connected to these issues, you'll find something of interest at the PASA conference this coming year. PASA always assembles a stunning roster of speakers and presenters. These are people of long experience and great vision, who know their topics intimately. At past conferences I've heard Joel Salatin and James Howard Kunstler speak, and gotten tips on growing apples from the likes of Micheal Phillips. I've heard the first hand accounts of two young entrepreneurial micro-farmers who sold more than $60,000 worth of produce grown on one acre of land on the Winooski River in Vermont, and another farmer in northern Maryland who sells fresh greens from his open fields year-round, even when he has to harvest them from under the snow.

The conference proper is always on a Friday and Saturday. But there are intensive, all-day, limited-enrollment seminars as optional add-ons before the conference itself gets underway. There are a number of tempting offerings for next year. I'm considering the Wednesday Weed School and the Thursday Hands-On IPM and Biocontrols track. I would really like to learn more about pest management, and how to distinguish the eggs of the beneficials from those of the pests.

Although this will be an expense I consider a luxury, I have no difficulty making the decision to attend. Carpooling has been easy to arrange each year, and I've yet to pay for lodging while attending the conference. PASA takes pains to keep this conference affordable, and offers many discounts that may reduce the expense of attending. Farmers are not wealthy people, sadly. Though there is an optional meal plan offered with registration, I've found that just grazing on the abundant and delicious donated snacks has been sufficient to cover my caloric needs while at the conference. In fact, I usually come home with food. In the end though, the few hundred dollars I cough up to PASA goes to a cause I firmly believe in. And I definitely get my money's worth.

If you're in or reasonably near Pennsylvania, check out PASA and their 2009 Farming for the Future Conference. If you plan to attend, please let me know in the comments. Maybe I'll see you there!

Participating in Your Own Life

This is a quickie post before I dash off tomorrow for the holiday with distant family, inspired by CG's post on participating materially in our own lives. This post spoke to me in a weird way. Have you ever read something, or had someone say something that sums up a bunch of random thoughts that have been knocking around in your subconscious? That's sort of what the Contrary Goddess' post did for me.

Then Meadowlark posted the following list and asked everyone to bold the items they had done. It's kind of a tangent, and kind of not. I've gone and added another ten items of my own at the end of her list. Post the list on your own blog if you want to play along at home. Add your own items for bonus points. (Everyone wins though.)

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland (This is one that definitely won't happen! You couldn't pay me to go.)
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis (But I have held a dragonfly.)
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea (That'd be something to see!)
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train (more than once)
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitchhiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill (You mean there's someone who hasn't done this?)
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping (Does it count if it was during a childhood summer spent largely naked?)
27. Run a Marathon (Uh, no. You know what happened to the first person who "ran a Marathon," right?)
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse (Yes, but only lunar.)
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset (moonrises too)
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise (- short run only, >1 day.)
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language (Well, yes, a few actually, but with plenty of help from teachers.)
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo's David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater (A summer of Star Wars re-runs. Very formative.)
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check (I'm pretty sure I've never done this.)
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar (fresh from the Caspian Sea, on the coast of the Caspian Sea)
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone (No. Knock on wood!)
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House (Not the inside, just the outside.)
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life (Probably saved his life, couldn't save his brother. Not a good memory.)
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous (Several, but just to shake hands and chit-chat.)
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby (I'm not mother material. Really.)
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a lawsuit (Class action doesn't count, right?)
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee (Was stung by about half an angry hive once.)
100. Read an entire book in one day (Some books are just like that.)

101. Attended a religious service of a religion significantly different than your own
102. Changed a flat tire, or fixed a leaky faucet
103. Lived in a foreign country
104. Euthanized (or had euthanized) a beloved pet
105. Witnessed a (human) birth
106. Witnessed a (human) death (see #89, above)
107. Donated an organ or bone marrow while still alive
108. Planted a tree
109. Cut a Christmas tree from the wild
110. Voluntarily fasted for a full day or more

Sign off in the comments if you're playing

Busy, Busy

I'll be largely absent for the next week or so. I've got a bake sale to prepare for tomorrow, and then we'll be away for Thanksgiving. I am SO looking forward to December, which I think may finally be the month I get to relax for a bit.

Have a great Turkey Day, everyone!

Harvest Meal: Fusilli with Tuscan Kale in a Creamy Tomato Sauce

It's well into autumn here. We've had a little snow already. That only makes it more satisfying to still be eating out of our garden.

It was a little melancholy yesterday afternoon, to wander out to the garden, picking up a few stray groundfall apples from way high up in the tree, farther than our ladders would reach, and then to catch sight of the empty chicken pen. Our girls have gone to their winter home. We no longer have an imperative that drives us outside twice a day whether we feel like it or no. But there is still Tuscan kale in the garden, looking for all the world like miniature palm trees, clearly enjoying the chilly weather, and next to them the colorful rainbow chard. A little ways away the leeks stand, green bits akimbo, in a disheveled looking row. I tucked a good bit of hay around them yesterday, to keep the worst of the chill away from them. They'll be fine in their hay blanket for several weeks more at least. I counted 14 of them, and picked a fat one out for our dinner. I also snipped off a generous bunch of only lightly munched upon Tuscan kale leaves.


Inside, I blanched the kale to remove a few caterpillars and detritus, and rinsed it well. Then I began a pasta sauce based on sliced garlic sauteed in a little olive oil along with that fat leek, finely sliced up. While those softened in the oil, I finely diced the kale. That was then added to the garlic and leek with a jar of the roasted tomato sauce I canned this summer. -Four homegrown ingredients at the heart of our meal. When all sauce ingredients were warmed through, I added white pepper, salt, and about a cup of heavy cream. That simmered and reduced slightly as the pasta cooked. Once the fusilli were at the al dente point, and sauced with this vegetarian sauce, I added a generous handful of grated parmesan cheese.

It tasted quite good. As always, even better than a tasty meal is a tasty meal produced in large part from our own labors. We didn't produce all the ingredients ourselves, but we know we cut our food miles significantly by growing what we eat and eating what we grow.

Other harvest meals:
Saag Paneer
Garden Pizza
Pyttipanna
Peanut Noodles with Garden Vegetables
Egg & Chard Curry
Pumpkin-Sage Penne Pasta
Kale & Barley Soup
Colcannon
Vegetable Soup with Lamb Stock
Carrot and Chili Pepper Escabeche
Arugula Noodles
Garlic Scape Carbonara
Vegetarian Futomaki

Cider Pressing

Well, it was a big weekend. We got our apples pressed, and the laying hens passed on to my real farmer friend, who will keep them for us until spring. She and her family showed up briefly during our apple pressing to pitch in for a bit and press a small batch of their pears into pear cider. We put off the pressing from Saturday to Sunday to avoid the heavy rain on Saturday. Instead we were graced by the first snow flurries of the year as we turned our apples into delicious cider.

Here's a picture of our apples, about 6-7 bushels' worth, loaded into our pickup truck in the morning. (In the back are our four hens, loaded into two cat carriers.)



The apple press we use is around 100 years old and is located in a huge barn, which provides some protection from the wind. My relatives bought the apple press for a song at an auction many years ago.



When we first arrived, I uncovered the apple press and found a mouse nest in the juice box, made up of chunks of fiberglass insulation. Needless to say, the press needed several good scrubbings and a little bleach before it was ready for use. Fortunately, I didn't find any critters in the nest.

After cutting out the worst blemishes, giving the apples a triple rinse, and grinding them by hand with an old-fashioned apple grinder, the fruit was loaded into net bags. The net bags are placed in the hopper of the press, and then we crank down the screw. It takes some effort to turn the screw once it's fairly tight. We use the mechanical advantage of this pole. After ten minutes under heavy pressure, enough juice has left the apples that the screw can be tightened further for a little more extraction.



The juices begin to flow. There's nothing in this world that tastes like fresh apple cider you've just pressed entirely by hand. Freezing preserves the cider, but the taste of this brown nectar is unmatchable.



And here's a picture of our cider yield. Pretty dramatic reduction, huh?



Well, we did get a little more cider than is shown here. We gave some to our friends who helped us with the pressing, and they gave us a little bit of their pear cider. And of course, we had to sample the cider as we were making it, for quality control purposes. We also gave half a gallon to my relatives who let us use their massive old apple press. They told us repeatedly that it was the best apple cider they'd ever had, which is saying a lot, since they had freshly pressed apple cider from their own press last year, and apple cider is fairly common where we live. Really good apple cider is usually made with a combination of different apple types too. We had only the apples from our own tree.

Speaking of our mystery apples from our old, old tree... During our lunch break we took a look at an apple variety book that my relatives had. We now think it's a decent bet that we have either a Winesap or a Stayman-Winesap tree. I lean more towards the Stayman-Winesap on the basis of the color of the flesh, which is greenish-yellow, and on the extremely late harvest of the fruit. Winesaps apparently have more yellowish flesh and a wider range of harvest dates. Both varieties have a squat shape, crisp texture, and dull red skin with tiny white flecks.

Our farming friends hauled away all the bad spots trimmed from the apples for their chickens, and all the pomace (solids left after pressing) for their goats. It's cold enough now that the pomace probably won't ferment on its own, so she can feed it to them over the next few days. I speculated that the goats probably wouldn't object if the pomace did ferment.

Speaking of fermentation, I heard something, possibly a rumor, that I'm going to try out this year. Apparently, one can take the apple pomace and put it in a crock with water just to cover. Cheese cloth should be laid over the rim and tied off and the crock left in a dark area. Supposedly, it'll eventually turn into apple cider vinegar. That wide mouth jar next to the bushel basket in the last picture contains the beginnings of the experiment. I don't know if this will work, but since the ingredients are free I have nothing to lose by trying it. Any wagers? Any actual knowledge? I'm looking forward to seeing how this goes.

Hope you all had a fun weekend.

Note: Results of the apple cider experiment are now posted.