I made the most delicious, savory soup in the universe tonight. From scratch, without a recipe, while operating on a few wee hours of what barely passed for sleep. And a lot of crankiness. Let’s just say that today has not been my favorite day. This soup redeemed it, in the end.
Let me just pause for a moment and say that I am not a good cook. My parents are both chefs; I guess it’s a recessive gene. Ordinarily, I have to focus in sublime silence for hours on end in an otherwise human-free kitchen in order to follow even the simplest recipe. I make cooking look more complicated than brain surgery: everything has to be prepped beforehand, in tidy little bowls and spoonfuls, and then I start cooking. one. thing. at. a. time.
Before I discovered the revelation of vegan cooking and organic vegetable box delivery (stay tuned for my to-be-award-winning maple syrup cookbook, coming soon), my culinary claim to fame was that I could make a mean toast.
Lately though, I’ve gained a little confidence in the old kitchen. Dare I say, I’m developing a skill. I like to think of it as a skill that will make me a really good housewife someday, god willing.
And if I can do it, you can do it too. This one took me about a half hour and seriously cured my self-pity blues.
- In a big soup pot, sauté finely chopped onion, garlic and a daunting amount of ginger in olive oil for a few minutes
- Add some chopped celery and a few handfuls of quinoa
- Stir the whole mix for 5 minutes or so to let the quinoa lightly toast
- Add about a half a pot of water (helps if the water is boiling in a kettle beforehand so you don’t lose your momentum)
- A spoonful of bouillon. I use “Better Than Bouillion”. Sounds gay, tastes salty. Salty is good, in my book.
- Let it boil, then turn it down to simmer for a while. Let’s say twenty minutes.
- Somewhere during this time, add a bunch of chopped kale. If you use organic kale straight from the farm, like me, you can obsessively search and destroy all unwelcome critters for a sociopathically long time before actually adding the kale to the soup. And, if you do find any of those creepy little bastards, you can then decide, as I often do (but not tonight, thank god) that you really weren’t in the mood for kale anyway.
- Cook it a little longer.
- Once the quinoa is done (it kind of floats to the surface, fattens up and splits apart), take it off the heat and stir in a big whopping spoonful of miso.
Freaking yum. I feel better.
