As I write this I’m watching on a hurricane and eating half-decent soup. Perfect for today’s feast, because in Therese-like fashion there are no portion sizes, you put in the amount you’ve got.
1) Decide you want to put more protein into one of your children. Walk around the grocery store looking for possibilities.
2) Pick up a package of “beef shanks for stew.” That looks all earthy and healthy and protein-y and not expensive, right?
3) Check the sell-by dates, because there was that incident the other week we aren’t talking about. Dates are fine.
4) Five days later (yep, dates still good) decide you really, really, must do something with those beef shanks. Put them in the crock pot with a bit of water on ‘low’ all day, because “for stew” is grocery store code for, “Long slow moist heat is your only hope this thing is going to be edible, that’s why it’s so cheap.” Add more water, because you’re feeling soupy.
5) Look up mushroom soup recipes online, because you have some mushrooms you need to use up, too.
6) Realize about 4:30 pm that there’s no way you’re going to be able to deal with this mostly-cooked meat before you have to hit the road for kids’ classes.
7) Remember that there’s this abandoned bottle of decent but now-aging red wine on the counter. Think beef-burgundy thoughts as you dump it into the crockpot in an attempt to make this thing want to cook another few hours until you’re home again and can deal with it. Think of all the reasons that mushrooms and wine-based sauces work so well together.
8) Get home, and decide it’s way too late to deal with this beef problem. Put the meat in a pie pan with a plate on it. Put the cooking liquid in a container to chill and separate so you can use the beef fat as the base for sauteeing those mushrooms tomorrow.
9) Look at that beef. Hmmn. Quick grab a grapefruit spoon while nobody’s looking and claim the marrow in those shank bones for personal consumption. I mean, it’s best hot, and no one else wants it anyway. Who happens to be in the kitchen right now.
10) Look at those now-empty bones. Aren’t soupy people supposed to do something with the bones, or has that already been done?
11) Consider the problem of the crockpot and the sink full of dishes. Decide the best thing to do is to boil the bones over night in water with a bit of vinegar, because that’s all soupy like.
12) Stow the beef and future broth-components in the fridge. Tell kids they can have leftover chicken for dinner. Also, why didn’t they eat earlier? It’s bed time.
13) Next day, go to make soup for lunch. Decide it’s going to be mushrooms, carrots, and beef. And maybe some onion.
14) Forget the onion. Really? Who wants to chop onions right now?
15) Go to get the mushrooms, and discover there are no mushrooms. Must have eaten them after all. Carrot-beef it is.
16) Start sautéing the carrots (shredded – previously planned for salad, now letting go of all salad ambitions) in the peeled-off beef fat. Decide garlic would be good. Discover garlic in fridge. Thank God for Elephant Garlic, because there aren’t 10,000 tiny cloves to peel. No really: Thank God for Elephant Garlic.
17) Do the standard soup thing: sauté carrots and garlic, dice and toss in the beef, mix in the gelled bullion from the beef cooking liquid from yesterday.
18) Fish the bones out of the water they’ve been boiling in, and give bones to dog in now-empty beef pie pan. Pour the water (theoretically more nutritious and flavorful than regular water, but really, I dunno) onto the soup.
19) Bring to a boil while you check the hurricane report.
20) Realize you forgot you were bringing the soup to a boil. Run back to kitchen.
21) It’s soup! Turn off heat, ladle into bowl, mix in a bit of sour cream.
22) Consider calling the children to tell them lunch is ready, but notice the house is very quiet right now. Decide the soup’ll keep for a bit.
Results: Not bad with a dash of salt.
Artwork: Internet Archive Book Images [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In