Flavor booster
You’ve mastered bone broth. Now turn it into glace — cubes of unparalleled deliciousness that will transform any dish.
Hasn’t been much in the way of cheer in 2020, has there? Unless, of course, you’re fanboying over economic collapse, worldwide pandemic, resurgent antisemitism and interminable racism.
And fires. Don’t forget the fires. Hoo boy.
Maybe, if we focus — just a bit — on some comforting, wintry fare, we can steer ourselves straight into next year and leave this fetid and festering clump of months to the strong-stomached historians.
Glace, then, seems to be in order. Small, brown parcels of large, meaty flavor with a cheekpainting mouthfeel that lets you know you’re eating something substantial. Something fine and decent. Something fit for 2021, knock on wood.
Why you need to learn this
“You gotta ac-cent … ” Everybody!!!
“-tchu-ate the positive, e-lim … ”
C’mon!!!
“-inate the negative. Latch on … ”
Oh, forget it.
Tell you what: If you had some glace cooling its heels in the freezer, you could drop a couple cubes in that stew that’s bubbling on the stove. Then, if you sharpened your stylus and laid some Johnny Mercer on the gramophone, you just might find yourself smiling for the first time in eons.
The steps you take
I suppose a word on the word itself is in order. First of all, it’s pronounced “glahss.” I know it looks like it should rhyme with face or lace, but, trust me, if you pronounce it that way, people will think you’re some kind of rube.
As to its literal translation, like many things French that fill us with confusion — their love of Jerry Lewis, for example — the word “glace” has many meanings, one of which is ice cream. And, yes, the glace we’re making is rather cold and damp, but, because its primary ingredient is animal bones, I wouldn’t recommend it for dessert. Unless you’re entertaining people you despise, in which case you could serve them a scoop topped with mayonnaise and tell them it’s sorbet de veau.
But, no, we’re using glace as a flavor booster for stews and sauces. It’s what you get when you remove the water from meat stock. Like a beef mummy, without the gauze wrap or the murderous thirst for revenge.
When you remove the water from stock, it becomes a flavor bomb and a texture … um … torpedo all rolled into one little rubbery package.
That rubberiness comes from gelatin, a natural byproduct of collagen in the bones.
As the stock reduces to glace, the concentration of gelatin increases. Whereas chilled stock resembles meat Jell-O, chilled glace looks more like some form of industrial flooring.
Let’s start, then, by making stock. Veal stock is the most common and wonderfully gelatinous progenitor of glace, but, technically, any bones — beef, chicken — will do.
I’ve attached a detailed recipe, but here are a few pointers.
First, consider this an all-day — maybe even a two-day — affair, one for making the stock, one for reducing it to glace.
Second, veal bones are sometimes hard to find. Call a butcher, and substitute beef bones if need be.
Speaking of bones, figure that 1 pound (16 ounces) produces a pint (also 16 ounces) of stock. Reduce that stock by roughly three-quarters and you’ve got glace. Thus, 8 pounds of bones yield 1 gallon of stock, which reduces to something less than a quart of glace. Divide that into 2-ounce portions and keep it in the freezer.
To make the stock, brown the bones in a hot oven, then fling them into a stock pot, cover with cold water and bring them to a simmer, skimming any scum (eww!) that floats unpleasantly up. While the water heats, brown some mirepoix — a 2-to-1-to-1 mix of onion, carrot and celery — along with a little tomato paste in a skillet or the oven. Figure roughly 1 pound mirepoix for every 5 pounds of bones. Scrape the browned mirepoix into the stock pot along with some parsley, thyme, bay leaf and peppercorns, and let it simmer quietly until it’s done. How long? Big, gruesome bones like beef or veal will take 8 to 12 hours, chicken bones — smaller but no less macabre — 2 to 4 hours. After the requisite time, strain it and, blammo, brown stock to beat the band.
One more thing: No salt. If you salt your stock, when it reduces, your glace will end up tasting like Lot’s wife.
After straining the stock, pour it into a clean saucepan and simmer to evaporate the water and reduce the total volume by about 80 percent. Along the way, when it’s reduced by half, you’ll have the modern version of the fabled
“demi-glace.” When it’s reduced all the way down to glace, you can do either of a couple things:
1. Pour it into clean ice cube trays and put it in the freezer. When frozen, pop out the cubes.
2. Pour it into a square cake pan and put it in the fridge. When it solidifies, cut it into 2-inch squares.
Either way, store it in the freezer, where it’ll keep for pert near a year.
Glace ideas
As for how to use glace, well, as with most flavoring ingredients, there are no hard and fast rules. Here are a few ideas:
Stews and braises: Make your favorite stew or braise — beef, lamb, veal, chicken. When all the ingredients are added and it’s simmering, stir in a couple cubes of glace. Continue on as if nothing happened, and no one will be the wiser until each bite brings them to undiscovered heights of ecstasy. Hyperbole much?
Sauces: Same as with stews. Or, make a simple pan sauce: Pan sear steaks or chops and remove to a warm place. Return pan to heat and deglaze with wine or water. Reduce by half, then add some flavoring ingredients — fresh or dried herbs or a bit of Dijon mustard — and a bit of glace. Reduce the sauce until it coats the back of a spoon, then season with salt, remove from heat and whisk in a tablespoon or two of butter. If it’s too strong, add a touch of water or stock to dilute the flavor. No matter, it’ll be delicious.
Soup, chili, gumbo, tomato sauce, etc. — same: Make it like you always do. Add some glace. Blammo.