Beef bone soup is a gateway drug to cooking weird things. It makes you feel like a caveperson who invented cuisine. You crack bones. You sip broth. You survive.
There’s also a weird satisfaction in seeing a bone turn brittle. It’s a memento mori but tasty. “This too shall pass, but first, soup.”
Plus, you can tell people, “I’m simmering bones for twelve hours.” They’ll think you’re a shaman. Lean into it.
The leftover loop
Don’t toss the cooked bones. Simmer them a second time with new water. Second-batch soup is weaker but still good for rice or ramen. Two batches? You’re a resource hoarder in the best way.
The third batch is basically flavored water. Drink it anyway. You earned it.
