My Goose is Cooked!

The other day at my local supermarket, I caused quite the stir when I purchased a frozen goose.

Canada goose, John J. Audubon, 1838

“Is that a goose??” said the gal at the check-out counter, causing all the other shoppers waiting in nearby lanes to crane their necks as the frozen beast made its way forward on the conveyer belt. In California, you’re hard-pressed to find anything goose-related amidst the quinoa, skinless chicken breasts and tempeh. “Hey Esmerelda, look — a goose!”

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Waste Not, Want Not

I have an almost cellular aversion to wasting food. I don’t know if it’s the result of the steady drumbeat of “There are children starving in China!” I heard as a kid when I wasn’t finishing a meal (and which I now use on my own children, substituting a non-specific “somewhere in the world” for China). Or whether it’s just because I hate to see things wasted.

Wilted veggies from the Skinny Girls fridge

Stop me if you think you’ve heard this one before — I’ve written on this subject many times already in this blog. But it’s an issue that comes up often in my life, as I remind yet another dinner host to save the bones from the chicken they’ve just served to make a homemade stock. (Recipe: throw bones in a gallon of water with an onion, salt and bay leaf, cook until reduced by half.) More