To say I’m unhappy with the results of Monday’s election would be a vast understatement. This isn’t the sort of blog where we’re going to dwell on that sort of thing, but suffice to say that this post is about two simultaneous feelings I’ve been having: bitterness and the need for comfort.
First the comfort:
If roast chicken doesn’t really require a recipe, then this is especially the case with chicken soup, right? Sure, but since I was threatened with divorce–in the very pages of this blog no less, dear readers!–if I didn’t post about my chicken soup, here it is. The recipe mainly comes from a cookbook Anna received for her birthday entitled, Cooking with Italian Grandmothers: Recipes and Stories from Tuscany to Sicily, by Jessica Theroux. As the title suggests, the author travelled around the various regions of Italy, and met and learned to cook with Italian grandmothers. She talks about them, their lives, where they live, and gives us a sampling of their cooking. We’ve tried a number of recipes from the book–gnocci, roasted rabbit, a rabbit sauce made from those leftovers, a sumptious chocolate and orange tart–and they’ve all been excellent. But does chicken soup really require a recipe? Well, maybe…
Whenever we roast chickens, we save the carcasses and stick them in the freezer, and when I make wings I chop off the wingtips and freeze those because nobody wants to eat those anyway, and they’re great for stocks. So we had a freezer full of chicken bits when I attempted this. The quality of your stock is going to make or break this recipe. I didn’t do anything special with mine, but I did arguably overreduce it so it ended up quite thick with a nice gelatinous quality to it that worked really well and turned this into a far more robust soup than I had anticipated. The book has a recipe for stock that I didn’t look at before making mine, but kind of wish that I did since it calls for lemon juice that in conjunction with a long simmer “pulls the minerals out from the chicken’s bones, delivering them into the broth.” I imagine that it would also contribute a refreshing lightness and acidity to the broth. I will have to try this next time.
This broth, strained, and then simmered with garlic and then finished by poaching eggs in it made one of the most delicious chicken soups I’ve ever made. It was so rich and flavourful and considering that it is basically just broth with an egg in it, was surprisingly filling. We ate it as an appetizer, but served with some nice bread, or with some pasta in it, it would easily be enough for a full meal.
Chicken Soup with Poached Eggs and Herbs
6 cups chicken (preferably bone) broth, lightly salted
3 cloves peeled, whole garlic, finely chopped, or 1 shoot green garlic, finely chopped
2 tablespoons chopped marjoram or parsley, or a mixture of both
Salt to taste
Freshly ground black pepper
Bring the chicken broth to a boil and add the garlic. Reduce the heat and simmer, covered, for 10 minutes. Season to taste; if you used whole garlic cloves, remove them from the broth at this point. Crack the eggs into ramekins or small bowls, and while the broth is at a low simmer add 1 egg at a time to the pot. I find that stirring the broth gently between adding each egg helps to keep the yolk and white united.
Once all the eggs have been added, place the lid on just slightly ajar; be sure the flame is low, otherwise the broth could boil over, disrupting the eggs. If you prefer runny yolks, cook for 3 minutes total. If you like your egg yolks solid, cook for 5 to 6 minutes total.
To serve, spoon an egg into each bowl and ladle the broth over. Garnish with freshly chopped herbs, salt, and black pepper.
And now the bitterness:
While waiting for the CBC’s election night coverage to begin, I racked my IPA into a secondary fermenter. Like the election results, this beer is bitter. Unlike them, however, this beer will not only be easy to swallow, but positively enjoyable as well. I’m really looking forward to bottling this one. Here I am taking a reading of the beer. It’s currently at 1.010 gravity (for you non-beer nerds, gravity basically measures the amount of sugar in the liquid. As the beer ferments the sugars are converted to alcohol and you can calculate the alcoholic strength of the beer based on the difference between the starting and finishing gravity). My starting gravity was a little lower than I had expected: I was aiming for 1.060, but got 1.054. The beer is at 5.74% abv right now, which is a little low for the style, but certainly close enough. It also smells and tastes delicious. The body is maybe a little bit light, but it’s hard to properly judge that before it’s carbonated. I’m pleased with it so far.
I threw about an ounce of Centennial leaf hops in the secondary fermentor to give it more aroma. I’m almost regretting brewing a small batch of this because I don’t think it’s going to staying around the house for long once it’s ready to drink.
I’m planning on brewing a mild this weekend, so stay tuned for more on that.