The broth I make every spring 🍃

Plus, a little honesty about turning 40

This post is sponsored by Pique. I only work with brands I actually use and believe in.

it’s soup, it’s salad, it’s everything i want right now

Okay, I have to tell you something slightly embarrassing: I have a skincare routine now. A real one. With steps. I also have a workout schedule. I eat fiber on purpose. I think about bone density (currently accepting weighted vest recs). I take things called “adaptogens” without rolling my eyes. Forty did something to me, and I’m still figuring out whether to be annoyed or grateful about it.

I used to be invincible (or at least I thought I was). I spent my twenties as a line cook, which meant I was running on four hours of sleep and well whiskey. I’d close the restaurant, then close out the bar, before hitting the bodega. My go-to sandwich was chicken salad with bacon and cheese. I’d knock out for a few hours, then I’d be back in the kitchen at 10 am, prep list in hand and ready to attack the 14-hour day ahead. I didn’t even need coffee.

Now? I had a pint of ice cream at 10 pm last Tuesday, and I’m still recovering (although I heard ice cream is healthy now?). I don’t know exactly what happened, but somewhere between 38 and 40, my body went from a diesel engine to a 2003 Honda Civic with 200,000 miles on it. Technically still running, but I’ve gotta be thoughtful about inputs, check the fluids, don’t push it on the highway, treat it with some basic respect. The decay is real, and it is humbling. But I’ve stopped fighting it and started working with it, which turns out to feel a lot better than the alternative.

My body is actually pretty good at telling me what it needs. I spent many years not listening. Or more accurately, listening only when something hurt badly enough to be impossible to ignore. Now I’m trying to get ahead of it. Not in a biohacking, optimization-cult way, just paying attention. Which brings me to spring, and the thing I make every year when the weather starts to turn, this Spring Pho-Style Bone Broth Bowl. It’s hot yet light, because let’s be real, this is probably just false spring and it’ll be chilly again soon, but I am ready to move away from the casseroles.

i always make this ahead so i can let the broth chill and scoop off the fat that settles on top

Pho is a Vietnamese noodle soup built on a long-simmered bone broth that takes patience. What makes it distinct from other broth-based soups is the spice profile that includes charred ginger and onion for a smoky, caramelized depth, and star anise, cinnamon, and cloves which bring a warm, subtly sweet backbone. The hot broth is poured over rice noodles and meat before piling on fresh herbs and bright garnishes, like lime, sliced chilies, and bean sprouts.

I’ve been making a version of this for years, long before I cared about collagen or ceramides or any of the things I now apparently care about. I made it because a long-simmered broth with bright herbs is one of the most deeply satisfying things you can eat. That it also happens to be genuinely good for your joints, gut, and skin is a bonus I’m choosing to lean into. The technique here is low and slow. You’re not making a quick stock; you’re making the kind of broth that gels solid in the fridge, which is how you know you’ve extracted the gelatin from the bones. That gelatin is what makes it feel so sticky, rich, and nourishing when you drink it.

For this spring version, I keep the broth itself classic with charred ginger and onion, star anise, cinnamon, and fish sauce. Then, instead of pouring the hot broth over shaved meats, I pour it over a nest of thinly sliced raw veggies that barely wilt from the heat.

Where Pique comes in

I’ve been using the Pique Radiant Skin Duo since January, and it fits naturally into the same general philosophy I have about this broth: the stuff that actually works tends to work from the inside out, over time, without drama.

The Sun Goddess Matcha is my morning opener. It’s ceremonial-grade and cold-extracted, which means no bitterness and no jitter crash. I make it while I’m doing the first round of prep for whatever I’m cooking that day. It’s become a ritual in the non-annoying sense of the word, simply a thing I do every morning that makes me feel better.

The B·T Fountain is my afternoon reset. It’s a beauty electrolyte with clinically studied ceramides, the same stuff that keeps your skin barrier intact, dissolved in a glass of water. After a winter of central heating and not enough vegetables, I notice a difference. My skin feels less papery. That’s the most honest thing I can say about it.

Pique is doing a limited-time offer right now: 20% off for life + free gifts on the Radiant Skin Duo. If you’re already thinking about how you want to take care of yourself this spring, this is a good, low-effort place to start.

Shop the Radiant Skin Duo here and make the broth! Your joints will thank you. Your future self will thank you. (Your 40-year-old self, especially.)

Spring Pho-Style Bone Broth Bowl

For the broth

• 4 to 5 pounds of beef bones (I like to save the bones from ribeye and strip steaks in my freezer for this occasion)

• 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

• 4 pieces star anise

• 4 whole cloves

• 1 cinnamon stick

• 1 large onion, halved through the root

• 3-inch knob of ginger, halved lengthwise

• 1 tablespoon fish sauce, plus more to taste

• Salt to taste

Heat the oven to 450F. While the oven heats up, spread the bones across a sheet tray. Have a quart of water at the ready.

Sprinkle the sugar evenly along the bottom of a large stockpot and place over medium heat. Cook, swirling the pan occasionally, until deeply caramelized, about 5 minutes (don’t worry if it’s not evenly colored). Add the star anise, cloves, and cinnamon, to toast in the caramel, swirling the pot until aromatic, 30 seconds. Quickly (and carefully!) add the water to halt the cooking and prevent the sugar from browning. Turn off the heat.

Roast the bones until deeply browned, about 1 hour. Transfer the bones and any fat that’s rendered from them to the stock pot. Add a splash of water to the hot tray and scrape up all the browned bits stuck to the pan, then pour it all into the stock pot. Add enough water to the pot to cover the bones by several inches and bring to a simmer.

Meanwhile, set a rack just under the broiler and heat to high. Place the onion and ginger, cut side up, onto the tray you just used to roast the bones. Broil until blackened, 8 to 12 minutes, then add to the pot with the bones.

Partially cover and very gently simmer everything together for at least 8 hours, but 12 is better if you have time. (For liability, you didn’t hear it from me, but you can simmer the stock on the lowest heat of your burner overnight. The longer the better with beef bones. Go 24 hours if you can!) Periodically skim off and discard any scum that rises to the surface. Add more water if the level drops below the bones. Strain (you should have about 3 quarts—enough for 6 bowls of soup), then season with fish sauce and salt until it tastes like something you want to drink straight from the bowl.

Multiply this batch as needed. The broth keeps in the fridge for a week or freeze it in quart containers and you’ll have it for months.

To serve

Cook the rice noodles according to the package instructions and divide them into bowls. Pile on whatever tender vegetables you like, thinly sliced or shaved with a peeler (I like snap peas, zucchini, radish, green onions, button mushrooms, and baby carrots). Pour over the hot broth and garnish with torn cilantro, mint, and sliced jalapenos. Serve with lime wedges and sriracha alongside.