My family makes chicken broth from scratch. The recipe is boiling a whole chicken with veggies in a large pot for forever. Strain before eating.

I remember as a young child I was sick with something and couldn’t seem to throw up whatever was making me ill. My mother made the broth, then gave me a bowl… unstrained. The sight of bones, gristle, and fat lumps was too much for me and I immediately threw up (and felt a lot better!). For decades I felt guilty about this until finally my mom told me it was intentional. Still laugh thinking about it. I love my mom and the broth, but I eat it strained now.