Since the chefs quoted in the article are all local, I've eaten at their restaurants and tasted their stocks and broths. They are all very well-regarded chefs, and the stocks they make reflect their training and personalities.
Over the years my stock-making has become very refined, in that I no longer throw a bunch of vegetables and leftover chicken parts into the pot. When it's time to make stock/broth, I shop for the freshest vegetables and the best birds, I use spring water (I don't like the taste of the water at my house), and I'll often (not always because I'm sometimes lazy) blanch the birds before actually settling in to the main steps of the process. A Japanese chef suggested the blanching - he said it makes for a "cleaner" stock.
All the vegetables are from the farmers' market or as fresh as possible from one of two produce stores I frequent. I never use supermarket chicken, only birds from certain producers that have been freshly killed (within 24-hours), and that are larger and older than the typical fryer. They have more flavor.
After the birds are blanched, they are rinsed, and then put into the stock pot. The heat is never turned up to high to accelerate the process - it's always on a low simmer. The scum builds up very slowly, and once it starts building up I never leave the pot, and skim frequently, not letting the foam build up. I try to avoid skimming the fat with the foam as much as possible. Once the last of the foam is removed, it's time for a break. I leave the pot alone for an hour or so, depending on how big the bird is and how much water I've used. When I return, I taste, and then decide when to add the vegetables and aromatics. Always onions (sometimes with leeks), celery (no leaves), and carrots in as close to the classic mirepoix ratio as possible - 2:1:1 - I'm a traditionalist, and then perhaps some other herbs. I like to add some thyme and a Turkish bay leaf, as fresh as possible. Whole black peppercorns go in at the end of the process, when there's about 30-minutes left. Somtimes I'll throw in a hot chile pepper or two if I want a stock with a little kick, but usually I reserve that little fillip for vegetable stock.
When the stock is done, I let the pot sit for a while on the assumption that some impurities will sink to the bottom. The stock is then ladled into the recipient vessel through several layers of cheese cloth. The vessel is always glass or a clean stainless steel pot, never plastic of any sort. I am obsessive about not using plastic containers of any sort.
I hope this gives you some ideas ... making stock is very satisfying, it fills the house with wonderful aromas. As you can tell by reading the San Francisco Chronicle article, and reading all the methods and techniques used for making stock, both here and elsewhere, it's a process that lets your personality shine through. In time you'll develop your own technique ...