Freeze Your Bones: A stock maker's postscript
Back in the mists of time, when I was a lithe bachelor, living downtown in a slick, split-level apartment with a pool on the roof, and a doorman for gossip, I would save all of my chicken bones, and lob them into a massive Ziploc bag in the freezer. At the point when there was no room for more bones, I would saunter on down to the supermarket, load up on some celery, carrot, and everything else mentioned in my superb, fool proof turkey stock recipe , and bubble up some stock for posterity. Oh, the times we had! Did I mention the pool on the roof? My mate, Dave, lived next door, and The CHEF's restaurant was within stumbling distance of the front door. Dangerous days!