A common topic in the conversation about sustainable chicken consumption is how to utilize the whole bird, breast to bones. My mother was a champion in that regard, already back in the early ’70s.

My mother did a chicken justice. She went well beyond using the carcass for stock. That, to her, was a given. No, her stretching included giblets, neck, feet, meat that clings to bones after everyone else considers the bones cleaned. She even crunched off cartilage, cracked the bones with her teeth and sucked the marrow out. And she encouraged us kids to do the same. It could turn into a competition of sorts: who left the least amount of bone on the plate. As the softer part of the bone disappeared, the trick was to stop right before you cut your lip on the splintering bone. Or worse, of course. Fortunately, despite the occasional forced throat-clearing—audibly and a little panic-stricken—nobody ever choked.

In her kitchen, a whole chicken—she always got one with giblets and feet—magically transformed into more than a meal. The giblets turned up browned and glazed with a sweet soy sauce fragrant with ginger and lemongrass; the carcass and feet returned as a strong stock foundation for her curry with eggs, tofu and potatoes. And that was before she even started on the chicken’s meat.

She hated food waste. It was manifest in everything that came from her kitchen. I think she was motivated by frugalness rather than environmental commitment: Money was tight throughout my childhood. Nevertheless, no food ever ended up in her bin if she could help it.

I wish I could claim that my mother was also into local, organic, pasture-raised chicken. But I doubt it even crossed her mind—or anyone else’s in those days. Well, she did get a chicken from a local farmer every now and then but that was payment for helping out with farm chores (for which she volunteered her kids).

Today, and thanks to growing consumer awareness of factory chickens pumped full of hormones and antibiotics, mindful consumers do want to know more about the chicken they buy. Like many, I tried to educate myself on the confusing semantics of ‘free-range’, ‘cage-free’ or what ‘organic’ means exactly. Until I realized there was a delicious way to skip all that: pasture-raised chicken that I buy at the farmers market, along with a dozen farm-fresh eggs.

I still cannot resist that crunchy bit of cartilage on a roasted chicken bone but I no longer crack it to get to the marrow. People tend to stare in horror when you do that at the dinner table. That and one too many close calls on a chip of bone made me lose that habit a long time ago.

But next time chicken dinner I might just crack that bone one more time, in memory of my mother.

Recipe: Chicken Livers in Sweet Soy & Ginger Sauce

(serves 4)

1 pound chicken livers

1 medium red onion, sliced in half moons

1/2 cup ketjap manis (sweet soy sauce)

juice from 1 lime

1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and grated

3-4 cloves of garlic

1 fresh long red chili, sliced

Salt/pepper

Season the chicken livers with salt and pepper. Heat the oil in a skillet large enough to hold all the livers. Add the chicken livers and brown on all sides. Take out and in the same pan add the sliced onions and cook over medium-low heat until soft and caramelized. Add the garlic and chili and cook for 1-2 minutes (still medium-low). Add soy sauce, ginger and lime juice and stir to mix. Put the chicken livers back in and simmer over low heat until the livers are cooked (firm but still a little pink inside). Serve with steamed rice and stir-fried green beans.