We have already brewed coffee and tea. Now it is time for the brew that quietly makes so many other dishes better: stock. Chicken, beef, fish, vegetable… or do we mean broth? The words are used differently from kitchen to kitchen, and sometimes interchangeably. Here is how I think about them. First, a small detour through the other meanings of ‘stock’:
Stock:
1. Goods kept by a business for sale.
2. A supply accumulated for future use.
3. Farm animals kept for their meat or milk: livestock.
That second meaning is the useful one here: something made now to improve a meal later. In the kitchen, stock usually emphasizes bones, connective tissue, and trimmings, while broth often emphasizes meat and may be served as a dish itself. Debone a roast, fillet a fish, or break down a chicken, and you have the beginning of another meal. The scraps still have flavor, and their collagen breaks down into gelatin during a long simmer. That is what gives a good stock body and helps a sauce feel rich rather than watery. Bones, joints, skin: do not overlook them. A spoonful of the result can make another dish taste deeper, richer, and more like home.
Today we are making chicken stock, starting with a whole chicken so we can save the meat as well as the liquid.

You will need:
- 1 chicken, with giblets if desired
- Vegetables: carrot, onion, and celery as the base; parsnip, leek, and green onions are welcome additions
- Peppercorns or other spices, to taste
- Herbs, to taste
- Good-quality water, enough to cover
- A little oil for browning
- Salt and pepper, used lightly

Start with the chicken and a large pot, about 6 quarts or large enough to hold everything comfortably. Do you like mine? Oh yeah.

Add a little oil to the pot.

Lower the chicken in carefully so raw juices do not splash around the work area.

Let it sizzle and brown. Browning is not essential for every stock, but here I want the deeper flavor, color, and aroma it brings.

While the chicken gets a tan, roughly chop the vegetables. Nothing fancy.

Trim the top of the onion.

Trim the root end and peel it.

Cut it into halves.

Then quarters.

Then eighths. Rough pieces are exactly what we need.

Add some green onions if you have them.

Use the white parts here and save the green parts for later.

Once the chicken is nicely browned underneath, turn it with tongs.

Brown the other side. It may take a little less time now that the pot is thoroughly hot.

Now that is a tan. Lift the chicken out and set it aside briefly.

Leave a little of the rendered fat in the pot.

Add the chopped vegetables and let them brown lightly.

Add the pepper.

Season lightly with salt. We do not yet know where this stock will end up, and it is much easier to add salt to the final dish than to remove it.

Once the vegetables have picked up some color…

return the chicken to the pot.

Add any juices that collected underneath it.

Pour in enough good water to cover the chicken and vegetables comfortably. I used tap water and measured it in a gallon jug.

Add the giblets if using. The liver has a stronger flavor, so leave it out if you prefer a milder stock.

Add the herbs.

Bring just to a boil, then turn the heat down to a gentle simmer.

Leave the lid partly open. Foam will start collecting on the surface. Since we are cooking the meat too, this is a little of both stock and broth. You can also make stock with saved bones, wings, necks, and carcasses, but starting with a whole chicken gives us useful cooked meat as a bonus.

Skim off the foam with a spoon if you want a clearer stock. It is mostly coagulated proteins, not something mysterious. Roasted chicken keeps those proteins, after all. Sometimes I leave them and strain later, but skimming as you go gives a cleaner-looking result.

Clear stock, just like that.

After about an hour, check the chicken. Once the thickest parts have reached at least 165°F (74°C), lift it out carefully. Mine was tender enough that the legs came away from the carcass.

Not a problem. It is all going to the same place.

When it is cool enough to handle, separate the meat from the bones. I like to keep the breast pieces whole because they are useful for another meal. Nicely browned breast meat deserves a little respect. Maybe that is just me.

Return the bones, skin, and cartilage to the pot. Now let the stock-making continue. Those connective tissues are where much of that lovely gelatin comes from.

Refrigerate the reserved meat promptly if you are not serving it right away.

The bones may release a little more foam, so skim again. You can remove some of the fat from the surface too.

After about another hour of gentle simmering, the stock should have plenty of flavor. Time to separate the liquid from the solids.

Set a fine strainer over a clean container and line it with cheesecloth if you want a clearer stock. In the photo I improvised with paper towels, but a suitable food-safe straining cloth is the better tool.

Carefully pour the stock through and let the strainer do its work.

You should have a rich, mahogany-colored liquid. Much of that color comes from browning the chicken at the beginning.

And the solids? Their work is done. After a long simmer the vegetables are soft and spent; discard them with the bones.

If you are using it immediately, return the strained stock to a clean pot and bring it back to a boil.

A few small particles may settle out. Leave those behind if you want the clearest result.
What can you do with it? Glad you asked. I use some immediately and portion the rest for later: 2-cup containers, 1-cup portions, or ice cubes for a small boost of flavor. Cool the stock rapidly in shallow containers, using an ice bath if helpful, and refrigerate promptly. Use it within 3–4 days, or freeze it. Because it is lightly seasoned, it can enrich another dish without bringing a whole load of salt along. For a bowl right now, I do this:

Put some of the cooked chicken in a bowl.

Ladle in the hot stock and season with salt, pepper, and lemon. Lots of lemon!

Stock in the freezer, chicken for another meal, and a warm bowl for today. Not bad for a few bones and a little patience.

