One of my favorite things to cook is soup. I like the chopping, the sautéing, and the stirring. Mostly, I like the way the house smells when there is a pot of soup simmering on the stove. I will make any kind of soup. Sometimes I even use a recipe.
Today, I am making a carrot soup with turkey meatballs that cook right in the liquid. I’m a bit tactilely defensive, and I am not keen on handling raw meat, but mixing the ground turkey and rolling the meatballs is satisfying. I tend to chop and roll too large, so getting the right amount of mixture into a ball is a bit of a challenge for me.
The other day, I made a beef stewy-type soup. It was delicious. And before that, I made a chicken barley soup. Good for what ails you. The trouble is that I can’t just make a few servings. My soups are great big ol’ pots. So, yesterday, I counted the “single-serving” leftover containers in my freezer. Let’s just say I am good-to-go in case of a huge weather disaster lasting a month or more of three meals a day, given my fridge isn’t swept away.
Making and eating soup is nurturing for me. As a matter of fact, I am nurturing myself thoroughly. I wouldn’t mind nurturing a few others. Soup just makes people feel good. I wish you could come over for a bowl of soup. There’s plenty for everyone.