Saturday, 17 October 2009

Golden soup for an Autumn Night


Hullo ma wee blog,
My disconnected feeling has treacherously descended into an irritating, sniffly head cold despite the deceitful euphoric few hours of last night. Its left me feeling jaded and listless once more, heavy headed and small eyed, and permanently, miserably, accompanied by a box of tissues wrapped in their bright, cheerful, irrationally annoying packet. My journey around the house marked by a territorial deposit of used tissues in each waste bin. Yuk.

I can't think of food but desperately want something. Hot, soothing with a good but easily digestible body. I decide on soup. To be honest it couldn't be anything else really. Programmed by tradition and temperament and not least by the ease of making just a simple pot of soup. Its all I can raise my enthusiasm and energy to anyway, and the stuff is all here in the house.

So, a base of onions chopped and softened in some butter, a few roughly chopped potatoes and two small finely grated carrots. I want them to dissolve and give their sweetness but most of all I want the interest of their colour. A litre of chicken stock and a scant half litre of water. My Grannie R made the best tattie soup I have ever tasted and I have searched through years of cooking for the same flavour and textures and so far have only consistently managed to accurately recreate the lightest palest touch of colour that her precious soup contained. The golden sheen that promised flavour beyond expectation of the simplest of ingredients used, potatoes cooked until any edges blurred into complete softness. A pinch of finely chopped curly parsley dropped into each bowl before it was served, for colour, interest and above all flavour. The kind of soup that made you pause with the first spoonful in your mouth and glance around the table to see others look back with eyes half closed and small smiles on happy faces. Hands reaching for well buttered crusty bread. Perfection. Simple perfection.

So last night supper was a simple bowl of hot but gentle soup and good crusty bread. Comforting and satisfying but easy on the belly.

Just what the doctor ordered.

See you later.....

Achooooo!

listening to.... my ears ringing.

5 comments:

Morning's Minion said...

Al; Sorry you have a cold--nasty, snuffly messes they are. At least you can now attribute the doldrums of the past week to an honest "germ"--no hint of malingering involved.
Soup is such wonderful stuff, especially with a good chunk of bread. You must have inherited your Paw's tradition of creating it, but sounds like you've honed the recipes a bit.
I'm appreciating what I see as your gift for writing through the troubles of life with humor and a keen perception of that fine balance between acknowledging our emotions and sensibilities without the pitfall of taking ourselves too seriously.
I hope you're over the cold soon and that G. hasn't succumbed to flu.

Alistair said...

Hullo MM,
jings, thanks for such nice comments. I'm really glad that you like the blog. I enjoy writing it. I rarely think about what I'm going to write before I sit down. Oh sure, a few things will run across the back of the brain cell at odd times of the day and I will think to myself 'Aye that'll need to go in', but as my lovely - and flu free - G would tell you, the chance of me actually remembering any of it is pretty bloomin slim.

I have sometimes looked back at posts and thought 'where did that come from?'. its the first time I have written anything - even failed at diaries { my record was two weeks of drivel } - over a sustained period and I cant believe I have more than 70 posts already. And some of them may even be spelt correctly. But the punctuation? well I might get there someday...

cheers again.....Al

Morning's Minion said...

I also failed at conventional journals in spite of fond intentions. The blog seems a good way to consolidate too many letters, explore ideas, share photos and "wallow in nostalgia" [My daughter's descrptive phrase!] I'm truly encouraged by the quality of observation and comment that has arisen among our little "group."
Have to tell you that I read back and several days ago encountered your misadventure with the patch of nettles and the electric fence. I keep remembering that with a chuckle. Not a nasty "aha" sort of chuckle, mind you, but a feeling of comradship, since I'm one of those unfortunates who concentrate so hard on avoiding an obvious pitfall that I inevitably land in some other uncomfortable mess. And yes, shaken by these upsets we retreat gasping, to safey and find that our great adventure has gone un-noticed!
Hope your cold and the trail of tissues are soon a thing of the past. Keep the kettle of soup on the simmer!

Anonymous said...

What size pot of soup did you make Alistair ?
You seem to have been supping it for a week.
Hope you & G are recovering .,., and yes, I've finally dried out ,, a bit., but I don't think I'm getting out of the re-decorationg !!

Alistair said...

Hullo Scudder,

As it was just the two of us I used the small pot natch'. Just the half gallon.

Never knowingly undercatered that's me!

regards....Al.

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