Well, spring, summer and fall came and went with no cooking of soup. Now that winter’s here, it’s time to get back to it.
I didn’t do a lot of reading and learning about cooking during the past year, either. I tried to grow tomatoes in my garden last summer, but without much success. I had a few, but just enough to use on a salad every once in a while--certainly not enough to do any canning. I forgot to pick up some sea salt when I was at the beach in May, so my friend CS brought some back for me when she was out there in October. I had meant to look for soup bowls at the kitchen stores when I was at the beach in May and again in December, and at our local kitchen store here in town, but I forgot. I also didn’t think to put them on my Christmas list, so I still don’t have any soup bowls. And I still need a larger strainer. I did buy some storage containers this fall.
My favorite new kitchen toy, though, is my “Magic Bullet,” which I saw on TV this fall and ordered right away. (I don’t like the violent connotation of “bullet,” though, so I call it my Magic Squisher.) It’s a compact, high-speed, versatile, labor-saving, countertop appliance that peels, chops, mixes, blends, whips, whisks, grinds, juices, grates and more—everything from chopped onions and minced garlic to light and creamy chocolate mousse--in 10 seconds or less. I’ve been using it to make fruit smoothies, tomato salsa, scrambled eggs, and omelets, and I’m looking forward to using it for my soups.
"Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence
Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance
Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence
Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance."~Yoko Ono, Season of Glass
Monday, January 17, 2011
Week 7: Chicken Soup for the Sick Friend’s Soul and Health
I didn’t get to the Asian grocery store this week, but I did find a Clear Japanese Soup, a Japanese Miso Soup, and a Chinese Egg Drop Soup in my Soup cookbook that I want to make sometime.
I also want to learn how to make Italian Wedding Soup, so I searched on-line for a recipe and learned a bit about my heritage and ancestral language in the process. According to About.com’s Italian Cuisine with Kyle Phillips, “Tuscans don't serve a specific soup at weddings (but) I found a discussion of minestra maritata in Jeannne Caròla Francesconi's La Cucina Napoletana and realized the dish has nothing to do with the happy day -- wedding soup is a mistranslation. To say two things go well together in Italian, one can say si sposono bene (they're well married) -- or, more to the south, that they're maritati, i.e., married. The combination of greens and meat in a clear broth certainly does work well and deserves to be called maritata -- no wedding involved.” I haven’t fixed it yet, but I did buy some “acini di pepe” pasta to use in it when the time comes.
I also learned there are more than 300 types of pasta, with nearly four times as many names for them. For example, I bought a box of pasta this week called “Rings,” and I learned—when I was browsing on-line pasta sites--that small pasta rings used for soup are named “anelli” or “aniline.” I cooked them and added them to some (gasp!) canned tomato basil soup (which I’ve had in my cupboard since before Christmas, so I couldn’t let it go to waste) that I made one day this week.
Several weeks ago, I noted I had come across several recipes that called for sea salt, and I didn’t know what that was. This week, I learned what it is. In the March 2004 issue of “Real Simple” magazine, there’s an article titled “Salt of the Earth: Your mother’s pantry staple does global duty—as a condiment, a cleaning aid, and more.” It shows pictures of bowls of Kosher Salt, Crystalline Sea Salt, Flaked Sea Salt, Fleur De Sel (a special occasion table salt), Rock Salt, and Pickling Salt, and under each photo it tells what to use it for, its origin, texture, and where to buy it and for how much.
In this same issue of “Real Simple,” there’s also an article titled “Tomatoes: In the Can,” which shows pictures and has descriptions of red, ripe and ready to use tomatoes in six different ways: whole, crushed, puree, chopped, sauce, and paste. It also compares seven different brands of canned tomatoes and offers guidelines for choosing and using canned tomatoes. Unfortunately, the article doesn’t talk about how to can your own, so I’ll have to learn about that another time.
My friend CS has been really sick this past week with severe asthma and allergies that started turning into bronchitis. It’s been difficult for her to talk, so she e-mailed me and asked if there’s any chance I “know how to make a good Jewish Mother Chicken Soup (or any other ‘get well’ variety, i.e., simple and bland) to get me better?” My Soup cookbook has a recipe for Indonesian Chicken Noodle Soup, but there’s nothing bland about that. My box of chicken stock has a recipe for Easy Chicken Tortellini Soup, so I took parts of both of these recipes and came up with my own Chicken Soup for the Sick Friend’s Soul and Health. Another huge success! Not only was it delicious, she said it did the trick and made her all better!
New experiences this week included poaching chicken pieces and preparing zucchini by finely slicing diagonally with a vegetable peeler. Truth be told, not only have I never before poached chicken, I’ve never done anything to chicken but eat it when someone else has fixed it. My Soup cookbook said to bring the stock to a boil, add the chicken pieces, reduce the heat, and poach gently until tender. I bought some boneless, skinless Free Range chicken breasts, chopped them up, and put them in the boiling chicken stock; then I added the sliced zucchini and the “acini di pepe” pasta which I had decided would be good in this, and let everyone season their own soup to taste with salt, pepper, dill weed and basil. It was a hit!
"Scientists say they have confirmed what grandmothers have known for centuries -- that chicken soup is good for colds....Some researchers have suggested...perhaps the steam from the soup, or the chicken fat, may play a role in soothing inflamed airways. (Dr. Stephen) Rennard said this was possible. He also said there could be a 'TLC'...factor. 'If you know somebody prepared soup for you by hand, that might have an effect.'"
I also want to learn how to make Italian Wedding Soup, so I searched on-line for a recipe and learned a bit about my heritage and ancestral language in the process. According to About.com’s Italian Cuisine with Kyle Phillips, “Tuscans don't serve a specific soup at weddings (but) I found a discussion of minestra maritata in Jeannne Caròla Francesconi's La Cucina Napoletana and realized the dish has nothing to do with the happy day -- wedding soup is a mistranslation. To say two things go well together in Italian, one can say si sposono bene (they're well married) -- or, more to the south, that they're maritati, i.e., married. The combination of greens and meat in a clear broth certainly does work well and deserves to be called maritata -- no wedding involved.” I haven’t fixed it yet, but I did buy some “acini di pepe” pasta to use in it when the time comes.
I also learned there are more than 300 types of pasta, with nearly four times as many names for them. For example, I bought a box of pasta this week called “Rings,” and I learned—when I was browsing on-line pasta sites--that small pasta rings used for soup are named “anelli” or “aniline.” I cooked them and added them to some (gasp!) canned tomato basil soup (which I’ve had in my cupboard since before Christmas, so I couldn’t let it go to waste) that I made one day this week.
Several weeks ago, I noted I had come across several recipes that called for sea salt, and I didn’t know what that was. This week, I learned what it is. In the March 2004 issue of “Real Simple” magazine, there’s an article titled “Salt of the Earth: Your mother’s pantry staple does global duty—as a condiment, a cleaning aid, and more.” It shows pictures of bowls of Kosher Salt, Crystalline Sea Salt, Flaked Sea Salt, Fleur De Sel (a special occasion table salt), Rock Salt, and Pickling Salt, and under each photo it tells what to use it for, its origin, texture, and where to buy it and for how much.
In this same issue of “Real Simple,” there’s also an article titled “Tomatoes: In the Can,” which shows pictures and has descriptions of red, ripe and ready to use tomatoes in six different ways: whole, crushed, puree, chopped, sauce, and paste. It also compares seven different brands of canned tomatoes and offers guidelines for choosing and using canned tomatoes. Unfortunately, the article doesn’t talk about how to can your own, so I’ll have to learn about that another time.
My friend CS has been really sick this past week with severe asthma and allergies that started turning into bronchitis. It’s been difficult for her to talk, so she e-mailed me and asked if there’s any chance I “know how to make a good Jewish Mother Chicken Soup (or any other ‘get well’ variety, i.e., simple and bland) to get me better?” My Soup cookbook has a recipe for Indonesian Chicken Noodle Soup, but there’s nothing bland about that. My box of chicken stock has a recipe for Easy Chicken Tortellini Soup, so I took parts of both of these recipes and came up with my own Chicken Soup for the Sick Friend’s Soul and Health. Another huge success! Not only was it delicious, she said it did the trick and made her all better!
New experiences this week included poaching chicken pieces and preparing zucchini by finely slicing diagonally with a vegetable peeler. Truth be told, not only have I never before poached chicken, I’ve never done anything to chicken but eat it when someone else has fixed it. My Soup cookbook said to bring the stock to a boil, add the chicken pieces, reduce the heat, and poach gently until tender. I bought some boneless, skinless Free Range chicken breasts, chopped them up, and put them in the boiling chicken stock; then I added the sliced zucchini and the “acini di pepe” pasta which I had decided would be good in this, and let everyone season their own soup to taste with salt, pepper, dill weed and basil. It was a hit!
"Scientists say they have confirmed what grandmothers have known for centuries -- that chicken soup is good for colds....Some researchers have suggested...perhaps the steam from the soup, or the chicken fat, may play a role in soothing inflamed airways. (Dr. Stephen) Rennard said this was possible. He also said there could be a 'TLC'...factor. 'If you know somebody prepared soup for you by hand, that might have an effect.'"
Week 6: New Cookware!
This week I was going to a potluck dinner for the cast and crew of a production we did at work, and I got all excited thinking I could make soup to take. But then the hosts said they were providing lasagna, spaghetti and fried chicken, and everyone else just needed to bring a salad, side dish, or dessert to share. So, no soup this week.
The good news, however, is that when I ran in to the grocery store for five minutes to pick up something to take to the potluck dinner, I happened to notice a big box on the bottom shelf in the baking aisle near the cooking utensils, plastic storage containers, cookie sheets, etc. The box was a 7-piece cookware set, and it was GREEN! There was only one box--no other type, no other color, just one box of heavy-duty, nice and sturdy, Teflon-coated cookware, and it was just what I wanted! It's called Magnifica by Rondine (made in Italy--"Good Looks & Great Performance"), and it includes a 1 qt. covered saucepan, a 2 qt. covered saucepan, a 5 qt. Dutch oven, and a 10" open fry pan (Dutch oven cover fits fry pan). The covers are glass (oddly, they have "Made in France" embossed on them) with black handles that match the black handles on the pots and pans. I was so excited that I couldn't wait to get home from the dinner so I could unpack them and put them on my stove. They look beautiful in my kitchen! Haven't used them yet, but they look great. My dad was glad to hear I’d found what I wanted--he’s been looking all over for a set for me for two and a half months, and he’s seen nothing but black, gray, or stainless steel. My mom was glad to hear that my favorite grocery store came through for me—she said they may not have all of the ingredients I need for my soups, but at least they had my pots and pans.
I hear there’s a new International Grocery Store coming to town soon, so I’ll have to check it out once it’s built and opens. I don’t know what kinds of foods it’s going to carry, but I’m hoping it will have some good Italian selections. I haven’t yet been to the Asian market that we have, but I hear they have a good variety of Asian foods and ingredients. Maybe I’ll find an Asian soup recipe and investigate that for next week.
"Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you." ~Nathaniel Hawthorne
The good news, however, is that when I ran in to the grocery store for five minutes to pick up something to take to the potluck dinner, I happened to notice a big box on the bottom shelf in the baking aisle near the cooking utensils, plastic storage containers, cookie sheets, etc. The box was a 7-piece cookware set, and it was GREEN! There was only one box--no other type, no other color, just one box of heavy-duty, nice and sturdy, Teflon-coated cookware, and it was just what I wanted! It's called Magnifica by Rondine (made in Italy--"Good Looks & Great Performance"), and it includes a 1 qt. covered saucepan, a 2 qt. covered saucepan, a 5 qt. Dutch oven, and a 10" open fry pan (Dutch oven cover fits fry pan). The covers are glass (oddly, they have "Made in France" embossed on them) with black handles that match the black handles on the pots and pans. I was so excited that I couldn't wait to get home from the dinner so I could unpack them and put them on my stove. They look beautiful in my kitchen! Haven't used them yet, but they look great. My dad was glad to hear I’d found what I wanted--he’s been looking all over for a set for me for two and a half months, and he’s seen nothing but black, gray, or stainless steel. My mom was glad to hear that my favorite grocery store came through for me—she said they may not have all of the ingredients I need for my soups, but at least they had my pots and pans.
I hear there’s a new International Grocery Store coming to town soon, so I’ll have to check it out once it’s built and opens. I don’t know what kinds of foods it’s going to carry, but I’m hoping it will have some good Italian selections. I haven’t yet been to the Asian market that we have, but I hear they have a good variety of Asian foods and ingredients. Maybe I’ll find an Asian soup recipe and investigate that for next week.
"Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you." ~Nathaniel Hawthorne
Week 5: Cream of Mushroom Soup; & I can no longer say I don’t cook
I can no longer say I don’t cook, and my friend CS can no longer say she doesn’t like soup. I’m not a great cook, and she doesn’t like all soups, but I’m finding that I do ok, and she’s finding there are some soups that are ok. And some that are really, really good—like the Cream of Mushroom soup I made last Sunday.
I made my grocery list and went shopping on Saturday. I found everything I needed except crème frasche. But the recipe said I could use sour cream instead, so that’s what I did. I thought I had fresh parsley in my fridge, so I didn’t buy any, but when I got home and looked at it, I wasn’t sure that’s what it was. I thought it might be basil or something else, but CS (who enjoys cooking and knows about these things) identified it as parsley, so I used it and it was good. I later realized it was left over from three weeks earlier when I had made Minestrone, so I’m not sure how “fresh” it was. But it seemed fine. The only other thing mentioned in the recipe that I don’t have is a food processor, but it said I could use a blender, so that’s what I did. I’ve added a food processor to my list of things to buy sooner or later, along with new cookware, soup bowls, a large strainer and storage containers.
The recipe was unclear and slightly confusing in a couple of places (it wasn’t just me—I read it out loud several times and CS agreed with me that it was unclear); nonetheless, I figured out what I needed to do, and it turned out great. We each had two bowls full, and I had enough left for my lunch the next day and dinner the following day.
New experiences this week included buying and preparing dried porcini mushrooms, large portabella mushrooms, and making a brown roux.
"You get whatever accomplishment you are willing to declare." ~Georgia O'Keefe
I made my grocery list and went shopping on Saturday. I found everything I needed except crème frasche. But the recipe said I could use sour cream instead, so that’s what I did. I thought I had fresh parsley in my fridge, so I didn’t buy any, but when I got home and looked at it, I wasn’t sure that’s what it was. I thought it might be basil or something else, but CS (who enjoys cooking and knows about these things) identified it as parsley, so I used it and it was good. I later realized it was left over from three weeks earlier when I had made Minestrone, so I’m not sure how “fresh” it was. But it seemed fine. The only other thing mentioned in the recipe that I don’t have is a food processor, but it said I could use a blender, so that’s what I did. I’ve added a food processor to my list of things to buy sooner or later, along with new cookware, soup bowls, a large strainer and storage containers.
The recipe was unclear and slightly confusing in a couple of places (it wasn’t just me—I read it out loud several times and CS agreed with me that it was unclear); nonetheless, I figured out what I needed to do, and it turned out great. We each had two bowls full, and I had enough left for my lunch the next day and dinner the following day.
New experiences this week included buying and preparing dried porcini mushrooms, large portabella mushrooms, and making a brown roux.
"You get whatever accomplishment you are willing to declare." ~Georgia O'Keefe
Week 4: Tomato Soup; & Kitchen Utensils
This week, I made a relatively simple tomato soup recipe from my Soup cookbook on Sunday, and I must say it was nice to come home from work on Monday at 8 p.m. and know that was in my refrigerator and just needed to be heated up. I learned how to peel the skins off tomatoes by dipping them for about 10 seconds in boiling water, and I again was instructed to “seed” the tomatoes and discard the skins and seeds. There must be some good use for tomato skins and seeds, but, since I haven’t yet learned what that is, I just ate them so they didn’t go to waste. Although my soup turned out pretty good, I’m not sure it’s supposed to be as frothy as it is. It also looks nothing like the bright red soup in the cookbook photo. Mine looks more like a creamy tomato soup. I think my tomatoes were too yellow/orange. Maybe it will be better this summer when I can use homegrown tomatoes fresh out of my garden. Now I guess I’ll have to learn how to can tomatoes so I can have fresh homegrown tomatoes all winter long.
I have started making a list of kitchen utensils and things I need to buy if I’m going to do this right.
I need to find a good quality set of cookware to replace the hodge-podge of pots and pans I’ve collected over the years. My dad looked high and low for just the right set for me for Christmas, but he couldn’t find the color du jour (green) that I had requested, so he said to let him know when I find what I want. I’m still looking, but green apparently already is passé, so I probably should just go with a classic silver stainless steel set.
My gravy ladle always worked fine for dipping soup made from a can, but this week I finally broke down and bought a soup ladle. I’ve never made enough soup to need a real soup ladle before, but it’s amazing how much better a soup ladle works when serving soup out of a deep pot.
I also bought a small hand-held strainer; but I think I need to get a large one, as a colander—despite being synonymous according to my word processing dictionary and thesaurus—doesn’t really do the same thing.
For now, my cereal bowls suffice for soup; but, I’ve put soup bowls on my list and I’ve started shopping on the Internet and in catalogues for just the right ones.
Next on my list are storage containers. If I’m going to make a big batch of soup on the weekend, I guess I need storage containers to keep it in the freezer so I can enjoy it for the next few weeks. Otherwise, either I’ll have to eat nothing but soup for every meal for a week, or it will go bad in the fridge (though I don’t think tomato soup will smell as bad as ones with cabbage). My dad asked if I’ve learned that Arm and Hammer baking soda will keep my refrigerator from smelling bad. I replied that I’ve kept a box of Arm and Hammer baking soda in my fridge for 20 years (well, not the same box—I do know enough to change it every few months), often when there’s little else in my fridge but that box. The box that’s currently in there has an expiration date of 9/6/05, but I don’t know how long it’s been in there, so maybe it’s past its refrigerator due date. I’ll add that to my list of things to buy for next week.
"Do not wait; the time will never be 'just right.' Start where you stand, and work with whatever tools you may have at your command, and better tools will be found as you go along." ~George Herbert
I have started making a list of kitchen utensils and things I need to buy if I’m going to do this right.
I need to find a good quality set of cookware to replace the hodge-podge of pots and pans I’ve collected over the years. My dad looked high and low for just the right set for me for Christmas, but he couldn’t find the color du jour (green) that I had requested, so he said to let him know when I find what I want. I’m still looking, but green apparently already is passé, so I probably should just go with a classic silver stainless steel set.
My gravy ladle always worked fine for dipping soup made from a can, but this week I finally broke down and bought a soup ladle. I’ve never made enough soup to need a real soup ladle before, but it’s amazing how much better a soup ladle works when serving soup out of a deep pot.
I also bought a small hand-held strainer; but I think I need to get a large one, as a colander—despite being synonymous according to my word processing dictionary and thesaurus—doesn’t really do the same thing.
For now, my cereal bowls suffice for soup; but, I’ve put soup bowls on my list and I’ve started shopping on the Internet and in catalogues for just the right ones.
Next on my list are storage containers. If I’m going to make a big batch of soup on the weekend, I guess I need storage containers to keep it in the freezer so I can enjoy it for the next few weeks. Otherwise, either I’ll have to eat nothing but soup for every meal for a week, or it will go bad in the fridge (though I don’t think tomato soup will smell as bad as ones with cabbage). My dad asked if I’ve learned that Arm and Hammer baking soda will keep my refrigerator from smelling bad. I replied that I’ve kept a box of Arm and Hammer baking soda in my fridge for 20 years (well, not the same box—I do know enough to change it every few months), often when there’s little else in my fridge but that box. The box that’s currently in there has an expiration date of 9/6/05, but I don’t know how long it’s been in there, so maybe it’s past its refrigerator due date. I’ll add that to my list of things to buy for next week.
"Do not wait; the time will never be 'just right.' Start where you stand, and work with whatever tools you may have at your command, and better tools will be found as you go along." ~George Herbert
Week 3: Learning about soup, and how to improvise, experiment, and play around
I was going to make a simple tomato soup from my new Soup cookbook this past weekend with the ingredients I had bought last weekend, but when I went to get them out Sunday afternoon I discovered I had used half of the tomatoes I’d need in salads throughout the week. It was too cold to go out to the grocery store, so I didn’t make any soup this week. I've decided that, even if I don’t fix soup every week, I'll try to learn something about soup every week. This week, I learned a lot.
First of all, I learned that not making the whole recipe from scratch is OK. Most of my friends and family with whom I've consulted--or who have offered unsolicited but welcome advice--say they hardly ever make stock or soak beans, and that there's nothing wrong with buying stock, or or using canned beans, or using canned clams instead of fresh clams, or using garlic powder or salt instead of fresh garlic. Oh, and I learned that those whole garlics I wrote about last week are called “garlic bulbs” which, if I were more of a gardener (I’m just learning about gardening, too), I would have realized, as I do--now that you mention it--see the resemblance to flower bulbs.
Then I learned that it’s true, but not as simple as it seems, what my great, great aunt always said: “If you can read, you can cook.” My dad always told me that when I was growing up, and it seems like common sense that all you have to do is read and follow the recipe. But it’s more complicated than it seems. First of all, you have to know what the cooking terms mean and what the ingredients are, and where to find them. Then you have to know what to substitute for various ingredients if you can’t find or don’t like what it calls for (who knew cilantro and parsley are in the same family and thus exchangeable?!). I read the recipe and it didn't tell me what to use if I didn't have this or that. Back to my great, great aunt’s hypothesis, I know there are books and magazines--and now Web sites--where I can go to read and learn about these things, so I guess she’s right after all. But still, it’s more than just being able to read and follow a recipe.
I’m learning that cooking is both an art and a science, and although I don’t have either the intuition or experience to know how to do so, I need to learn how to “improvise, experiment, and play around.” It seems to me that, as with any other skill, one has to learn the fundamentals first; then, once one masters the basics, one can begin to experiment. However, it also seems to me that it would help if one had some innate creativity and talent to begin with, and I have none. This is not entirely unlike when I tried to learn how to play the clarinet and the piano—I learned how to read music and how to play the notes; but I just didn’t have the God-given talent to make beautiful music. Maybe if I’d had more patience and discipline I would have practiced more and become more proficient, but I lacked the motivation, interest and desire to do so. Until recently, I lacked the motivation, interest and desire to cook; but, now that I have those, maybe the patience and discipline will follow, and I’ll learn to cook delicious food. Maybe. Time will tell.
I learned that although cooking a batch of soup may take a couple of hours one day, the soup can make a quick, easy and yummy lunch or dinner for several days and, when stored properly, even longer. I also learned that when not stored properly, minestrone will go bad, and the cabbage will make your fridge stink the rest of the week.
Finally, I’m learning that I have more of an interest in what’s in dishes at restaurants, and I’m thinking maybe I can create the dishes myself. Tonight we went to the local Chinese restaurant and I ordered a sizzling rice soup and found myself paying more attention to the ingredients than I ever would have before. Of course, as the nice waiter, NS, pointed out, he could tell me what the ingredients are, but not the proportions, and the stock is a secret recipe. Nonetheless, if I improvise, experiment, and play around, maybe I can come up with something almost as good!
"Learning is an active process. We learn by doing. Only knowledge that is used sticks in your mind." Dale Carnegie
First of all, I learned that not making the whole recipe from scratch is OK. Most of my friends and family with whom I've consulted--or who have offered unsolicited but welcome advice--say they hardly ever make stock or soak beans, and that there's nothing wrong with buying stock, or or using canned beans, or using canned clams instead of fresh clams, or using garlic powder or salt instead of fresh garlic. Oh, and I learned that those whole garlics I wrote about last week are called “garlic bulbs” which, if I were more of a gardener (I’m just learning about gardening, too), I would have realized, as I do--now that you mention it--see the resemblance to flower bulbs.
Then I learned that it’s true, but not as simple as it seems, what my great, great aunt always said: “If you can read, you can cook.” My dad always told me that when I was growing up, and it seems like common sense that all you have to do is read and follow the recipe. But it’s more complicated than it seems. First of all, you have to know what the cooking terms mean and what the ingredients are, and where to find them. Then you have to know what to substitute for various ingredients if you can’t find or don’t like what it calls for (who knew cilantro and parsley are in the same family and thus exchangeable?!). I read the recipe and it didn't tell me what to use if I didn't have this or that. Back to my great, great aunt’s hypothesis, I know there are books and magazines--and now Web sites--where I can go to read and learn about these things, so I guess she’s right after all. But still, it’s more than just being able to read and follow a recipe.
I’m learning that cooking is both an art and a science, and although I don’t have either the intuition or experience to know how to do so, I need to learn how to “improvise, experiment, and play around.” It seems to me that, as with any other skill, one has to learn the fundamentals first; then, once one masters the basics, one can begin to experiment. However, it also seems to me that it would help if one had some innate creativity and talent to begin with, and I have none. This is not entirely unlike when I tried to learn how to play the clarinet and the piano—I learned how to read music and how to play the notes; but I just didn’t have the God-given talent to make beautiful music. Maybe if I’d had more patience and discipline I would have practiced more and become more proficient, but I lacked the motivation, interest and desire to do so. Until recently, I lacked the motivation, interest and desire to cook; but, now that I have those, maybe the patience and discipline will follow, and I’ll learn to cook delicious food. Maybe. Time will tell.
I learned that although cooking a batch of soup may take a couple of hours one day, the soup can make a quick, easy and yummy lunch or dinner for several days and, when stored properly, even longer. I also learned that when not stored properly, minestrone will go bad, and the cabbage will make your fridge stink the rest of the week.
Finally, I’m learning that I have more of an interest in what’s in dishes at restaurants, and I’m thinking maybe I can create the dishes myself. Tonight we went to the local Chinese restaurant and I ordered a sizzling rice soup and found myself paying more attention to the ingredients than I ever would have before. Of course, as the nice waiter, NS, pointed out, he could tell me what the ingredients are, but not the proportions, and the stock is a secret recipe. Nonetheless, if I improvise, experiment, and play around, maybe I can come up with something almost as good!
"Learning is an active process. We learn by doing. Only knowledge that is used sticks in your mind." Dale Carnegie
Week 2: I did it! I really did it! And they liked it! They really liked it!
On Wednesday evening at Bowling League, I was telling my friends BH and MB about my soup misadventure, and I invited them over for Sunday supper if they’d be willing to let me try again and cook some soup for them. They were planning on going out of town for part of the weekend but said they’d call me when they knew whether or not they’d be back by Sunday evening. On Friday, as I was discussing with my staff plans for Monday when we were going to be having our staff retreat at my house, I offered to cook soup for lunch, and they thought that would be great. I was thinking maybe I’d fix two different kinds in case not everyone (about a dozen people) liked one or the other—maybe a minestrone and a tomato soup. I figured I’d have plenty of time to shop and cook on Saturday and Sunday.
On Saturday, I heard from BH and she said she and MB were looking forward to coming to supper on Sunday. I had found a recipe that I wanted to try, but when I talked to my friend CS, she said why not just make a double batch of the minestrone that I was going to cook for Monday and have some of it Sunday night, so I decided that made more sense. The minestrone recipe calls for dried cannelloni beans which, it says, have to be soaked overnight, so I was going to go grocery shopping Saturday so I could soak the beans that night. But there was a note at the end of the recipe that said, “If you would like to use canned beans, do so...." That’s all I needed—with permission to use canned beans, the grocery shopping could wait till Sunday.
I made a list of all the ingredients I’d need for the minestrone and the tomato soup, and off to HyVee I went early Sunday afternoon. The first dilemma I had was that in the recipe book, in the list of ingredients, it called for prosciutto, but nowhere in the cooking directions part did it say anything about prosciutto. One of the first things it told me to do in the directions is to “put the pancetta, garlic and parsley in a large saucepan…,” though pancetta was not in the list of ingredients. So, I looked these up on my Internet cooking terms Web site, and though it didn’t say these terms are interchangeable, I gathered that prosciutto is a type of ham (from Italy), and pancetta is a particular part of the prosciutto, so I figured it meant the same thing. When I got to the store, I asked the woman in the deli for prosciutto and forgot to say anything about pancetta, so I hoped I was getting the right thing. Otherwise, I only had trouble finding two of the ingredients: sea salt and shelled peas. Of all the different kinds of salt I found, the only one that sounded anything like sea salt was seasoned salt, and I wondered if maybe “sea” is an abbreviation for “seasoned.” It’s not. I looked it up on the Web when I got home. (My new cell phone has the capacity to connect to the Internet, and I’m wondering if I should pay for that service so I can “look it up” while I’m in the store instead of having to wait till I get home.) The recipe called for fresh or frozen shelled peas, but I couldn’t find anything anywhere that said “shelled” peas. I asked a colleague, AW, and his wife, who were in the frozen food aisle, what it means when it says “shelled peas”—and they said something about maybe using regular peas, or snow peas, or black-eyed peas or navy beans when they make soup. I just went with the regular frozen peas.
I got home from the grocery store two hours before my dinner guests were to arrive, so I thought I had plenty of time to fix the minestrone and have it ready by the time they got here. I had read through the recipe and added up the times it takes to cook and simmer various ingredients, and it came to about 45 minutes, not counting the time it would take to cut up the celery, carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, etc., which I figured couldn’t take all that long. As I put the prosciutto/ pancetta and parsley in the saucepan and began to sauté it, I suddenly realized that I wasn’t sure what a garlic clove was, and I was supposed to use two of them, crushed. Actually, four, since I was doubling the recipe. I had bought two packages of fresh garlic, which comes with two in a package. As I took one out, I debated whether the whole thing is a clove, or whether a clove is some small part of it. As I rinsed it off, it sort of pealed like an onion, and I cut the dirty brown end off, and it sort of fell apart into what I surmised might be little cloves. Unsure, I decided it would be better to use two (four) of the little pieces than both (all four) of the whole big garlics that came in the package, just to be safe. (I later found out I had made the right decision when I asked BH and MB upon their arrival.)
By now I was wondering if my Internet web site, which I don’t have time to go connect to every time I have a question while I’m cooking (unless I pay for DSL service, which may be worth it), has a 1-800-ASK-COOK help-line affiliated with it. If so, I might as well just dial it when I start cooking and stay on the line, because I have LOTS of questions. For example: “2 (4) large potatoes, cubed and rinsed.” Do I peel the potatoes? I’ve heard the skin is the best part because that’s where the vitamins are, so I decided to leave it on. “3 (6) carrots, cubed.” Do I peel the carrots? I remember peeling many a carrot when I was little, and I don’t recall either of my parents (both of whom, by the way, are wonderful cooks, and neither of whom, I must say, is to blame for my heretofore lack of interest in and experience with cooking) ever fixing anything with carrots without peeling them, so I peeled them.” 3 (6) tomatoes, halved, seeded and chopped.” How and why do I seed a tomato? I got creative and used my apple slicer to slice the tomatoes, then I used a spoon to scoop out the seeds as best I could before I chopped them up. What do I do with the seeds? I love them, so I ate them.
I was putting all of these ingredients in the pot as I did whatever I was supposed to do to them; but, before I knew it, it was time for my guests to arrive, and I hadn’t even gotten all of the ingredients sliced, diced, crushed, ground, chopped…let alone had they cooked for 45 minutes. But it was probably for the best, because I was at a point in the recipe that I really needed help. When they arrived I fixed them drinks (I didn’t have any hors d’oeuvres ready because I had thought I’d be ready to put dinner on the table when they got here), and I asked them some questions. Despite being nearly 10 years older than I am, B said she doesn’t know a whole lot more about cooking than I do. Fortunately, M is a good cook and was able to answer all of my questions. After reassuring me that I had done the right thing with the cloves, she answered my remaining questions in turn: no, the zucchini doesn’t need to be peeled; you slice cabbage like you slice lettuce (which she then had to show me—my lettuce comes ready-to-eat in a bag, pre-shredded and all); and, finally, as I began to panic about the rice, wondering if I was supposed to have cooked it separately and then add it to the pot, she assured me that no, I could just pour it from the box into the soup where it would cook just fine.
By now, they’d been there about a half hour, and B asked if I had any crackers and cheese, which, fortunately, I did and was able to whip out some tasty appetizers. (Lesson learned: always have some appetizers or hors d’oeuvres ready.) The soup was almost ready, so I put the Italian bread in the oven, finished setting the table, and dinner was served. As they took their first bites, they both raved and marveled that this was my first (successful) attempt to cook soup, and they said it was delicious. They said they were genuinely impressed and weren’t just saying that to make me feel good, which I appreciated because I wanted them to be honest since I was going to be serving the same thing to a dozen people the next day, and if it was awful I needed to know.
After the soup cooled, I put it in the refrigerator and realized there was more than enough for a dozen people the next day, and I thought it was a pretty safe bet that everyone would like minestrone (unless anyone was a vegetarian, which we had discussed earlier and couldn’t think of anyone who was), so I decided not to make the tomato soup after all. As it turned out, one person is a vegetarian, but she doesn’t like tomato soup so that wouldn’t have made any difference anyway. What I should have done was fix one batch of the minestrone without prosciutto. Another lesson learned. Fortunately, she had her own soup at home, so she ran home to get it when it came time to heat the soup for lunch. I felt awful, but she was very gracious about it and it worked out fine. Everyone else really seemed to enjoy the soup, and I felt a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction in knowing that I can do it, and I’m not completely hopeless!
"I know the price of success: dedication, hard work, and an unremitting devotion to the things you want to see happen." - Frank Lloyd Wright
On Saturday, I heard from BH and she said she and MB were looking forward to coming to supper on Sunday. I had found a recipe that I wanted to try, but when I talked to my friend CS, she said why not just make a double batch of the minestrone that I was going to cook for Monday and have some of it Sunday night, so I decided that made more sense. The minestrone recipe calls for dried cannelloni beans which, it says, have to be soaked overnight, so I was going to go grocery shopping Saturday so I could soak the beans that night. But there was a note at the end of the recipe that said, “If you would like to use canned beans, do so...." That’s all I needed—with permission to use canned beans, the grocery shopping could wait till Sunday.
I made a list of all the ingredients I’d need for the minestrone and the tomato soup, and off to HyVee I went early Sunday afternoon. The first dilemma I had was that in the recipe book, in the list of ingredients, it called for prosciutto, but nowhere in the cooking directions part did it say anything about prosciutto. One of the first things it told me to do in the directions is to “put the pancetta, garlic and parsley in a large saucepan…,” though pancetta was not in the list of ingredients. So, I looked these up on my Internet cooking terms Web site, and though it didn’t say these terms are interchangeable, I gathered that prosciutto is a type of ham (from Italy), and pancetta is a particular part of the prosciutto, so I figured it meant the same thing. When I got to the store, I asked the woman in the deli for prosciutto and forgot to say anything about pancetta, so I hoped I was getting the right thing. Otherwise, I only had trouble finding two of the ingredients: sea salt and shelled peas. Of all the different kinds of salt I found, the only one that sounded anything like sea salt was seasoned salt, and I wondered if maybe “sea” is an abbreviation for “seasoned.” It’s not. I looked it up on the Web when I got home. (My new cell phone has the capacity to connect to the Internet, and I’m wondering if I should pay for that service so I can “look it up” while I’m in the store instead of having to wait till I get home.) The recipe called for fresh or frozen shelled peas, but I couldn’t find anything anywhere that said “shelled” peas. I asked a colleague, AW, and his wife, who were in the frozen food aisle, what it means when it says “shelled peas”—and they said something about maybe using regular peas, or snow peas, or black-eyed peas or navy beans when they make soup. I just went with the regular frozen peas.
I got home from the grocery store two hours before my dinner guests were to arrive, so I thought I had plenty of time to fix the minestrone and have it ready by the time they got here. I had read through the recipe and added up the times it takes to cook and simmer various ingredients, and it came to about 45 minutes, not counting the time it would take to cut up the celery, carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, etc., which I figured couldn’t take all that long. As I put the prosciutto/ pancetta and parsley in the saucepan and began to sauté it, I suddenly realized that I wasn’t sure what a garlic clove was, and I was supposed to use two of them, crushed. Actually, four, since I was doubling the recipe. I had bought two packages of fresh garlic, which comes with two in a package. As I took one out, I debated whether the whole thing is a clove, or whether a clove is some small part of it. As I rinsed it off, it sort of pealed like an onion, and I cut the dirty brown end off, and it sort of fell apart into what I surmised might be little cloves. Unsure, I decided it would be better to use two (four) of the little pieces than both (all four) of the whole big garlics that came in the package, just to be safe. (I later found out I had made the right decision when I asked BH and MB upon their arrival.)
By now I was wondering if my Internet web site, which I don’t have time to go connect to every time I have a question while I’m cooking (unless I pay for DSL service, which may be worth it), has a 1-800-ASK-COOK help-line affiliated with it. If so, I might as well just dial it when I start cooking and stay on the line, because I have LOTS of questions. For example: “2 (4) large potatoes, cubed and rinsed.” Do I peel the potatoes? I’ve heard the skin is the best part because that’s where the vitamins are, so I decided to leave it on. “3 (6) carrots, cubed.” Do I peel the carrots? I remember peeling many a carrot when I was little, and I don’t recall either of my parents (both of whom, by the way, are wonderful cooks, and neither of whom, I must say, is to blame for my heretofore lack of interest in and experience with cooking) ever fixing anything with carrots without peeling them, so I peeled them.” 3 (6) tomatoes, halved, seeded and chopped.” How and why do I seed a tomato? I got creative and used my apple slicer to slice the tomatoes, then I used a spoon to scoop out the seeds as best I could before I chopped them up. What do I do with the seeds? I love them, so I ate them.
I was putting all of these ingredients in the pot as I did whatever I was supposed to do to them; but, before I knew it, it was time for my guests to arrive, and I hadn’t even gotten all of the ingredients sliced, diced, crushed, ground, chopped…let alone had they cooked for 45 minutes. But it was probably for the best, because I was at a point in the recipe that I really needed help. When they arrived I fixed them drinks (I didn’t have any hors d’oeuvres ready because I had thought I’d be ready to put dinner on the table when they got here), and I asked them some questions. Despite being nearly 10 years older than I am, B said she doesn’t know a whole lot more about cooking than I do. Fortunately, M is a good cook and was able to answer all of my questions. After reassuring me that I had done the right thing with the cloves, she answered my remaining questions in turn: no, the zucchini doesn’t need to be peeled; you slice cabbage like you slice lettuce (which she then had to show me—my lettuce comes ready-to-eat in a bag, pre-shredded and all); and, finally, as I began to panic about the rice, wondering if I was supposed to have cooked it separately and then add it to the pot, she assured me that no, I could just pour it from the box into the soup where it would cook just fine.
By now, they’d been there about a half hour, and B asked if I had any crackers and cheese, which, fortunately, I did and was able to whip out some tasty appetizers. (Lesson learned: always have some appetizers or hors d’oeuvres ready.) The soup was almost ready, so I put the Italian bread in the oven, finished setting the table, and dinner was served. As they took their first bites, they both raved and marveled that this was my first (successful) attempt to cook soup, and they said it was delicious. They said they were genuinely impressed and weren’t just saying that to make me feel good, which I appreciated because I wanted them to be honest since I was going to be serving the same thing to a dozen people the next day, and if it was awful I needed to know.
After the soup cooled, I put it in the refrigerator and realized there was more than enough for a dozen people the next day, and I thought it was a pretty safe bet that everyone would like minestrone (unless anyone was a vegetarian, which we had discussed earlier and couldn’t think of anyone who was), so I decided not to make the tomato soup after all. As it turned out, one person is a vegetarian, but she doesn’t like tomato soup so that wouldn’t have made any difference anyway. What I should have done was fix one batch of the minestrone without prosciutto. Another lesson learned. Fortunately, she had her own soup at home, so she ran home to get it when it came time to heat the soup for lunch. I felt awful, but she was very gracious about it and it worked out fine. Everyone else really seemed to enjoy the soup, and I felt a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction in knowing that I can do it, and I’m not completely hopeless!
"I know the price of success: dedication, hard work, and an unremitting devotion to the things you want to see happen." - Frank Lloyd Wright
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