Cranky and I had this idea of roasting a chicken over a bed of partially cooked white beans. The drippings from the chicken would meld with the beans and create the most amazing dish.
Well, the drippings did drip. I think a little melding occurred.
But the best part was the goozle: the animal juice and collagen that spilled out of the bird, onto the beans, and down though the clay cooker onto the bottom of the pot.
When it came time to eat the chicken and beans... eh. Chicken was tough (and this was the storied Soul Food chicken! Damn.). Beans were fine.
But when it came time to refrigerate the leftovers, we separated the goozle from the beans. The chicken was separated from bones and went into the freezer; the bones yielded chicken stock. Not very good stock; all the goozle was in the beans, then separated and saved.
Goozle! We stored the goozle for a day or so, and then created a totally phony miso soup. I cracked a couple of spaghetti sticks in half, cooked them, and added them to hot goozle, with chopped scallions and cubes of excellent tofu.
It was not miso, no. But it was beany, chickeny, collageny, goozly, and very, very tasty.
Still got beans and chicken to deal with. Wish I could buy goozle.