Sunday, April 14, 2013

I Am A Soup Genius

Yes, it's true.  I made soup yesterday afternoon, we had some for supper, and Durwood told me after the first bite that I would have taken over Pappy's position as parish soup chef if there'd been a competition.  Now, that's a COMPLIMENT.  See, his dad was an excellent soup maker who made the soup for church suppers and Durwood has always raved about Pappy's soup, so last night's unsolicited comment that I'd give him a run for his money with my latest batch of chicken soup was a real ego boost.  I started with Fast Chicken Soup Base as usual (I've made it so many times I know it by heart), I got the bones and dark-roasted skin (not the pale, greasy, flabby parts) of the rotisserie chicken I bought simmering after lunch, added three times as many carrots as I usually add with the onions and celery, sliced half a head of cabbage, tossed in the leftover serving of rutabaga from the other night, and stirred in a can of Pace diced tomatoes with mild chilies (which I can't seem to find a link to online, stoopid Campbell's Soup Co. website).  I zipped to the grocery to get a loaf of crusty sourdough to have with it and a feast was born.  I was a little nervous that Durwood would find it too spicy hot but he went back for seconds so I guess it wasn't.  We'll see how he likes it today after a little overnight melding of flavors.

We had a nice afternoon wandering from grocery to grocery store in the sunshine.  We started at Sears where we bought a new microwave (they had 30% off yesterday only) to replace the one with the paint peeling off the ceiling of the cooking compartment.)  (I put the old one on the curb at around 6 PM and it was gone when I got up this morning, yay! I love junk-pickers.)  Then we hit Aldi for fresh pineapple, fresh strawberries, a cabbage for my soup, some cheese for Durwood.  Next was Festival for greeting cards (Durwood says theirs are the best) and after that Sam's for all kinds of things plus lots of "tasters" so we really didn't need the Hardee's Jim Beam thickburger that we split for a late lunch.  But it was really good; it has bbq sauce and pepper jack cheese and bacon and onion straws, also lettuce and tomato.  The only thing missing was the hunk in a tux that's on the commercial.  (ooh, baby)  (NOT Heidi Klum pretending to be Mrs. Robinson, tsk, the guy who unties his bowtie, slides it off, then eats that big burger one-handed... pardon me, I need a moment)  I tried to order the "guy in the tux" combo but the woman behind the cash register said they were out.  Drat.

April 14--Gustave Loiseau, La Place de la Bastille.

The exhaust from tour buses,
the heat rising from asphalt,
the cacophony of tourists,
conspire to make the Place
feel like a swirling oven.
Tourism isn't for the
faint of heart.  It calls
for nerves of steel,
a cast iron stomach,
a bottomless wallet, &
the very best walking shoes.
Today it's overcast--again--so I'm off to the basement to play with fabric.  I feel the need to sew.  After I fill the birdfeeders, that is.

P.S. I was thrilled to remember that Gustave's last name means "the bird."  I usually tell people the only French I remember is "haricot verts" (green beans) so it's always a treat to realize that there's more tucked way back in my brain.

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