November 13, 2006
I cannot explain this, and I really don't want to
While there are several good things about making your own soup--it's tastier, you know you're not allergic to anything in it, it makes your house smell awesome--probably the best thing about the process is that you can stand around in a warm, fragrant kitchen using one hand to stir and the other hand to hold a book.
Incorrigible, and proud of it.
All-Purpose Pumpkin Soup
pumpkin, 1 can
coconut milk, 1 can
vegetable stock, some
unread book stack, taller than self
These are the basic ingredients. Whop into soup pot. Stir with some salt. Then get all complicated with the variations:
Thai Pumpkin Soup (via 101 Cookbooks): cook some Thai red chili paste in the pot before you add the other ingredients. Cook on low until blended, while reading Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom by Cory Doctorow. Fight your way past the first six pages of incomprehensible dross, enjoy for 100 pages, then roll your eyes at the lefthand plot twist that makes no sense for any of the characters involved. Add a dash of grapefruit juice. Yes, grapefruit juice. Put on some brown rice and wonder if the author could have made the villain's identity any more obvious without the use of a cast-iron frying pan. Use varying amounts of vegetable stock to either thin the soup down to a broth to which vegetables, chicken, brown rice, etc could be added, or keep it as a lush, thick standalone soup. Push through the pain and finish the last 45 pages just so you can return it to the library.
Vegan Pumpkin Harvest: (via my brain): add to the pumpkin broth: a chopped onion, chopped garlic to taste, some apple juice, chopped potato, chopped asparagus, frozen peas, possibly some nuts--whatever's in the cupboard you feel like seeing in a soup bowl, really. Pick up After Dark by Jayne Castle, and slap a book cover on it so that no one can tell you're reading what is essentially a sci-fi Harlequin romance. Add the tiniest pinch of cumin along with some curry powder and turmeric, and resist the urge to puree. This is not a pureeing soup, and it does not need rice, unless you need to use up some rice from last night's dinner. Then it needs rice. Be very amused by the concept of predatory, psychically evolved dust bunnies, but wish the author could describe some of the alien, ghost-haunted catacomb ruins with the same vigor she describes the main characters' um, interactions. Add more salt.
Pumpkin Fry Up: (again, only my brain to blame): In a fry pan, heat a drizzle of oil and then vigorously cook shredded cabbage and fennel with some salt. Heat the oven to 350 and bung in a tray of pecans to roast for 30 minutes. Thoroughly enjoy Scarlett Thomas' PopCo to the point of almost burning the pecans, and fully sympathize with the main characters' compulsion to travel by train, at night, a full day before the work conference begins, so that she can be sure to be on time. Think you've worked out where the plot is going and then be blown away by no less than 3 or 4 subversive and clever twists. Struggle through the cryptography bits towards the end. Serve the fried cabbage and fennel with the pumpkin-coconut sauce over rice, with chopped toasted pecans on top.
Return to the library for more books, and the store for more pumpkin.
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