Rendering Tallow, Bone Stock, and Roasting Pumpkins

Time to Thanksgiving is ticking away. And any unsold turkeys will end up finding their home in my freezers, so I’m starting to thin them out now. And that means rendering the block of beef fat that’s been in there since July. And it also means making some stock. But first, let’s start with that fat.

(Normally) The fat gets chopped into one inch cubes and placed in a large cast iron skillet where it melts the day away. Today, however, I looked at that fat. It looked back at me. And I threw the whole mess in the pan. One giant glob of fat, still partially frozen. What’s the worst that could happen?

It turns out, nothing. A couple hours in, the fat solid became fat globules, all on it’s own. At that point I did cut some of the larger pieces in half, but it took me a total of ten seconds, not the half hour of dangerous knife wielding, slippery-fat sculpting it would’ve been before. I think I’ll do it this way from now on.

Once the fat is liquid with all the solids carefully skimmed off, it’s name is changed to tallow, and it’s poured through a strained funnel into two waiting quart-sized mason jars where they will stay until I need to make some fries. Or meat pie. Or something else tasty.

While that’s been cooking away on the left back burner, on the right is my extra large stock pot in which are beef bones, the carcasses of two chickens, sixteen chicken feet, and the last of the last scraps from my garden: leeks, onions, a stalk or five of celery, parsley, bay leaves, thyme, and one tiny little carrot that somehow got missed the last time I picked. This was all covered in cold water and left to simmer for hours–seven already. It will probably go for a few more before I take it off the stove and let it rest in the fridge overnight. Tomorrow it will be canned and more water poured over the dregs for go number two (Hey, you know I hate waste, right? Those bones will have a little more in them to give, trust me. Besides some animals had to die to make it. Out of respect for them, I’m going to get as much as I can).

And while all that went on, the oven was set low to slowly roast two more pumpkins. This has been (almost) a daily thing. After today, we will be down to our last two pumpkins, but they are the biggest, so I’ll have to do them one at a time.

I know. I know. I empty the freezer of fat and bones only to fill it back up again with pumpkin. But I can’t help it. A Thanksgiving without roasted pumpkin pie isn’t worth having.