Shinbone soup

At clubs with bigger memberships, their supporters only touch their colours, but at North we have the Shinboner spirit.  North people can touch that spirit – they are the real Shinboners, they are the club.

– Ron Joseph – legendary North Melbourne administrator

 

For thousands of years people have filled their bellies with simple shinbone soup.  The first time Neanderthal man killed a herbivore, he would’ve made shinbone soup.  Every part of the beast was consumed or worn.

 

Shinbone soup transcends every era of human life.  During Australia’s depression, women kept their families alive with soup made from shinbones, water and a few vegetables.  Most people alive would’ve consumed soup made from shinbones at some point in their life. 

 

It’s easy to make and is great on a cold night.  It’s cheap to make, too.  Let me tell you how. 

 

All butchers have bones left over from the slaughter.  Depending on the butcher, the shinbone may be called beef bones.  They’re usually split, exposing the bone marrow.  If they’re not, ask the butcher to split them.  He’ll use a fine saw to cut them in half.

 

I use one full shin bone or four or five smaller, split beef bones when I make shinbone soup.  A full shin bone is about 45 centimetres long.  If the butcher hasn’t cut it into quarters, use a hammer to break it up.

 

Put the bones in a six litre pot.  Add water to cover the bones by about four centimetres.  Pour in a cup of split peas or soup mix, add a tablespoon of salt and a few shakes of pepper.  Bay leaves are good.  Put the pot on the stove, bring to the boil then simmer for two hours. 

 

Any meat on the bones will become tender and slip off. 

 

After simmering, take the broth off the stove.   Remove the bones and discard.  Let the broth cool.  Shin bones don’t have much fat, but the marrow boils into fat, so I put the broth in the fridge overnight or in the freezer for a few hours.  All the fat will congeal and form a thin layer on top of the broth.  The next day, scoop the layer of fat off and discard. 

 

Put the broth on the stove on high heat then add your vegetables.  I use two medium sized carrots cut into small half moons, half a celery cut into five millimetre slivers and onion chopped finely.  You’ll need to add more salt, but taste the broth first.  I also use a cup of pasta shells to give the soup consistency.

 

When the soup is boiling, turn to low and let simmer for half an hour.  The soup can be thickened using corn or potato flour, but don’t use too much.  Your soup should be watery, not thick like pea and ham soup.  Take out the bay leaves.

 

Its best served with heavy bread.  Rye bread is good, as is a cob of bread.

 

If you’ve never made it, read the steps above and do it.  Don’t be put off by the bone marrow.  It gives the soup a beautiful texture and full-bodied taste.  You don’t need to sit the broth in the fridge overnight, there shouldn’t be too much fat, but I find the soup is better without it.

 

If you’ve eaten homemade shinbone soup, you’ll understand it isn’t poverty food.  It’s hardly an entrée.  Shinbone soup should not be dismissed as something people were forced to eat when times were tough.

 

It’s a damn fine meal.  In our civilised society, humans are still boiling shinbones to make soup to feed their families.

 

There should be no stigma attached to the shinbones, not when they’ve made broth for soup to keep people alive for centuries.

 

The shinbone is a vital part of human existence…

 

Shinboner spirit

 

 

For decades, the simple shinbone represented the spirited existence of North Melbourne.  The Shinboners became an unofficial moniker.  There are various reasons why.  In the 1940s and 50s, the butchers around North Melbourne hung shinbones in their windows decorated with blue and white ribbons.

 

In that era, a lot of North Melbourne players worked at the local abattoir and often turned up to training with blood on their legs.

 

It became a rallying cry in impoverished times, when people who lived in North Melbourne were forced, economically, to make soup from the shinbones of cattle for dinner.

 

In modern times, only the old timers remembered the shinbone tag.  Those who grew up in the seventies and beyond were aware of it, but North’s nickname was the Kangaroos.  An Australian icon seemed better than the shinboners. 

 

As I grew up, I never used shinboner to urge the players on.

 

My mate Russ, following the 1993 elimination final loss to West Coast, told me about an old man sitting next to him in the crowd.  As North fell further behind, Russ yelled out in hope.  ‘Come on you Shinboners.’

 

The old man asked Russ how he knew of the Shinboner folklore.  The old man was surprised by Russ’s answer – I know about shinboner spirit, and chuffed that spirit had made it to another generation.

 

In the seventies, the shinboner spirit was abandoned.  The club, after 50 years of mediocrity, became successful.  Last year, former premiership player Peter Keenan said it was never used as a motivational tool.

 

‘No one made the players aware of it,’ Keenan said on NIRS.  ‘Barassi didn’t bang on about it.  No one really mentioned it.’

 

The shinboner spirit remained a historical artefact until the nineties.  Denis Pagan helped reinstate the shinboner spirit and an urban myth that became reality. 

It was a spirit embraced by the club.  North had nothing, no money and primitive facilities.  Before the redevelopment in 2010, the facilities had barely changed since I first went to Arden Street in 1978.

 

The Shinboner spirit helped bind the club.  It united a disparate group of supporters.  Despite having nothing, North won two flags in the nineties, a remarkable effort.  Shinboner spirit helped gel the club. 

 

Other clubs hated North for it.  The players hunted in packs on the field and partied in packs off the field.  Essendon legend James Hird has admitted many times he was jealous of the spirit among the group, how they were always together.

 

The Shinboner spirit embodied North’s fighting capabilities and camaraderie, unity against all odds.  Under Pagan, it attained a mystical status.  None of North’s players or supporters decried the spirit that made us great.

 

Now it’s gone.  North needs to regain it.  At the weekend, Hawthorn belted us by 115 points.  In the three years Brad Scott has been coach, North has lost three games by 100+ points, to St Kilda, Collingwood and Hawthorn.

 

That means no improvement over three years.  Scott keeps banging on about our young list but it’s a pointless excuse.  Harvey isn’t young.  Neither is Petrie, Wells, Firito or Edwards.

Others like Goldstein, McIntosh, Campbell and Swallow are 24 or older.

 

We’ve got a young midfield group, but by the time they mature, Harvey, Petrie, Firito and Edwards will be gone.  The list has an unhealthy mix of veterans and rookies.  It is nowhere near as strong as Scott would have us believe.

 

On Tuesday, North’s CEO Eugene Arocca resigned.  Men like Arocca don’t resign unless they have health issues, they’re disenchanted or they’re pissed off.  Arocca wanted a contract extension and didn’t get it.  He was pissed and walked.

 

Arocca was instrumental in North’s $15 million dollar facility and the push into Tasmania.  He wanted Ballarat but the Liberal state government vetoed a funding agreement made by the former Labor government.  Tasmania is just as good, financially anyway.

 

The club remains where they’ve always seemed to be, broke and without prospects. 

 

Spirit is not a dirty word.  For years opposition clubs marvelled at our spirit.  Shinboner suited North.  Despite eras of success, there was never any money or bling.  North didn’t need it.  Just because the old stand has been demolished and the club has a pool and gym is no reason to abandon the Shinboner spirit.

 

We’ve got a fierce coach determined to be successful.  It isn’t working on the field or off the field.  The club is still broke, still maintained, superficially at least, by a disparate group of supporters.

 

North is trying to play bling football without spirit. 

 

 

Though the shinboner spirit is a recent phenomenon, at least in my life, I loved it.  To yell out come on you shinboners meant you belonged to a select group of people who supported a club who had nothing.

 

It’s been a perennial struggle at Arden Street.  Accepting the shinboner spirit meant accepting underdog status.  The premierships were amazing, and so long ago.  They were blamed on shinboner spirit.  That spirit gave us something to cling too when Wayne Carey and Denis Pagan left the club.

 

In 2005, Glenn Archer was named the Shinboner of the century.  Why bestow such an honour and then abandon it…

 

It doesn’t make any sense.  Archer must feel bemused.

 

Brad Scott didn’t like the term shinboner spirit when he got to North Melbourne.  North had new facilities and a talented list.  Shinboner spirit harkened back to the dark times, when the club has worse facilities than some suburban teams.

 

Scott wanted rid of that, new facilities, new life. 

 

It doesn’t work that way. 

 

Under Pagan, the club was unified.  It might’ve been a mythical force, but shinboner spirit worked. 

 

It should still be working.

 

North has been through worse times.  Back in 1984 we finished second last, just five wins.  In 1985, we rebounded and won a final.  It took a change of coach to improve.  We were bad from 1988 to 1992.  It took a change of coach to improve.  Pagan arrived and reinstated the one spiritual ingredient that was missing.

 

There is nothing wrong in invoking the past.  North needs to do it now, because losing to Hawthorn by 115 points is poor on-field form.  Losing Arocca is poor boardroom form.  Clearly there’s no spirit left.

 

On Wednesday I made shinbone soup.  It helped rekindle my spirit and reminded me that shinbone soup has been a staple of life forever. 

 

Shinbone soup is delicious.  Make it and you’ll feel proud of your creation.  Shinboner spirit was something to be proud of, too.

 

It’s easy to make and easy to embrace.

 

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