The Joys of Jook
For most people, the big winter celebrations come to an end when the Christmas tree is taken down, and the New Year’s streamers and empy Champagne bottles are tossed out.
Not for me.
It never really feels finis for me until I make my huge pot of jook, the creamy, comforting rice porridge that I, like so many others of Asian heritage, grew up with.
My late-Mom always made it with the Thanksgiving turkey carcass. She sometimes made it, too, right after Easter with the leftover ham.
Following her tradition, I freeze my Thanksgiving turkey carcass exactly for this purpose. A few weeks later, it’s joined in the freezer by the big, bulky bone from Christmas’ centerpiece, a Berkshire ham. There, these two picked-over, yet still flavor-packed specimens wait until Jook Day comes.
And that day is usually sometime in January when we start to crave turkey and ham again after having had more than our fill over the December holidays. Then, I defrost the ham bone and turkey carcass overnight in the fridge.
In they go into the biggest pot I have in the house, where they combine slowly for four hours with grains of rice: Short-grain if you like your porridge or congee exceedingly creamy with the rice grains almost completely broken down; Jasmine or long-grain if you prefer your jook to be a little more brothy with still slightly distinct grains of rice.
I like to cook my porridge with coins of fresh ginger, Chinese black mushrooms, a drizzle of sesame oil, and a pinch of white pepper. When it’s finally creamy, practically custardy, I ladle it into big bowls, then sprinkle on slivers of green onion.
Then, I sit back and savor my favorite one-last-taste of the holidays.
My Version of Jook
