Chicken Soup for the Soul
Or in my case, more noodles than soup… Being a Jewish
princess woman, I’m supposed to be an amazing chef, right? I know that someday a man will want to buy this cow, so I really should work on my marketable skills.
Now I have one of the world’s greatest mothers (please don’t tell her I said that), but growing up she was never a phenomenal cook. When I ask her what she fed me growing up, she reminds me that every time she would ask, “What did you think?” My brother or I would reply something sweet, such as, “You never need to make that again…” These days she has no one but the pup and my father to feed, so she is slowly but surely learning. I hear she is getting quite good. I don’t feel it is fair that she waited so long to learn, I would have loved to enjoy that!
Anyway, I was planning on preparing a simple salsa chicken for dinner last night when I realized I was truly in the mood for noodle soup. (Ramen, my love, I had been dreaming of you.) But rather than ingest that artificial delicacy, I decided to brew my own soup. Throwing in the remaining vegetables from my refrigerator, I managed to concoct a wonderful base. And then I overloaded it with rice vermicelli. I had no idea how much to add and it seems I threw in too much. The soup was delicious by the way. However my leftovers may be 80% noodle, 15% vegetable, and 5% soup. Oh well, have to start somewhere.
Tell me: Who taught you how to cook? And what is the best meal you can conjure up?