Sylvia, a large Italian woman, downstairs/right/front, cooked with sausages and dried meats, garlic and basil and oregano, a great deal of which decorated her long white apron. With flour flying, she made her own ravioli and hung pasta on a clothes rack to dry. She had balls of cheese weighted with a plate and a rock in a large crock filled with liquid. Ester was the pencil thin Jewish woman who lived upstairs/left/rear/. She cooked with onions and caraway, cabbages and fishes and chicken that still had feet and necks and were laid out on a table that was covered with newspapers. Most often, the aroma from one of the kitchen overwhelmed the other but sometimes it was a real, mingling battle.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Chicken: Stock or Broth
While the rice is resting and the 3 qts of Chicken & Dumplings, and 4 qts of Chicken Vegetable Soup w/ Noodles finish up on their own, I would like to address my confusion concerning chicken fat. Considering today’s mania about fat of any kind, I would be inclined to remove and discard it. However, my childhood recollections overrule and I generally treat it as liquid gold. (If I die next week of clogged arteries, please don’t follow my example.)
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1 comment:
those photos are making me hungry and i love the nostalgia of the post!
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