Well, the bone broth, I was so excited about turned out differently than I expected. Funny thing is, I don’t know if it is right or wrong. The crockpot boiled out most of the water so I added more, broke the bones and let it stew a few more hours. I finally decided to pull the plug, strain the solids out and store the broth. I used some today to cook some rice, and I think it tasted good–not sure if it tasted any different than normal though.
It made me think about tribes. The wise old members pass down their knowledge and skills to the eager young ones. Like this: how would the young girl ever know how to stretch her neck without this long-necked lady? Crazy isn’t it?
I always wish I lived closer to my family, but this is just one more reason. As much as I read online and can hear about over the phone, it just doesn’t compare to standing next to my grandma as she shows me how she makes gravy. There’s something about physical presence that makes such a difference. But, when we can’t have that, we have to rediscover these disappearing skills, which may mean we have to try, try, try again.
I guess we’ll see how the chicken broth tastes in other things. It’s an experiment, so hey, you live, you learn. And, I am constantly reminded that there’s always more to learn.