soup. until a couple weeks ago i had never attempted to make it. and then one day, surfing the net as i do, drooling over many a new recipe i wanted to try, i happened upon a little recipe that screamed my name really, really loud: creamy artichoke soup. hmmm, let me think, do i LOVE artichokes? yes. have i always wanted to try cooking with leeks? yes. do i generally enjoy eating soup? yes. would i simply love a huge dollop of mascarpone cheese in the middle of velvety green goodness like in the picture? um...YES.
so ensued my artichoke soup cooking adventure. and what an adventure it was. i found out that my eyes are so sensitive that even cutting leeks makes them burn and tear. i found out that the big pot i rarely use was apparently made for soup making. i found out that my food processor is officially the best gift my husband has ever purchased for me. i also, ultimately, found out just how awesome making soup is. and ladies and gents, it was some DAMN good soup! i made it again, brought it to work for lunches, marveled at the simplicity of it.
so when my neighbor calls me to inform me that he has massive amounts of veggies from his parents' garden and i am more than welcome to take some off his hands, what do i decide i will make with these massive amounts of zucchini and cucumber? (if you have been paying attention, this answer should come naturally to you)....SOUP!! tonight i am embarking on my first mass cooking adventure. i will be making 3 different kinds of soup (cucumber, zucchini and asparagus) for freezing to take for lunches to work. I will also be cooking a full dinner of seared Ahi tuna with Asian cucumber and radish salad and banana pudding for desert. I am excited, though some part of me is slightly nervous. Probably because my conscious realizes the amount of dishes that will be the ultimate conclusion of this cooking whirlwind. And, unlike chopping and prepping food for cooking, washing dishes does NOT center my chi.
so wish me luck! the outcome will either be glorious or consist of my husband coming home from work to find me curled into a ball in the corner in the kitchen sobbing uncontrollably into my apron.
