Just one of ‘m days.
Waking up an hour before my alarm clock, unable to get back to sleep. An early morning visit from an electrician to tell me my intercom may be inter, but it’s not so com. And no chance of getting it fixed. Good thing I have a balcony, cuz I’ll be using it to communicate with my visitors, four floors below.
The garbage bag destined for the disposal toppled over when I put it down to tie my scarf. Rubbish and coffee grounds everywhere. Oh, and a nice smathering of garlic-laced yogurt.
On my way to the office, I got soaked. Naturally. An inbox filled with you-must-do-this-for-me-now and I’m-changing-the-info-I-sent-you-yesterday-and-you’d-better-deal-with-it e-mails waited for me inside. Again, naturally.
Seventy-five miniature crises and a nightmare planning meeting later (damn, I’m a drama queen) it was seriously time to go home and hide. Rain again on my way back and there was only one possible answer to this day: soup.
Nigella Lawson’s Vietnamese chicken salad had left me with half a head of white cabbage. Perfect for Luisa’s rice and smothered cabbage soup (http://wednesdaychef.typepad.com/the_wednesday_chef/2008/01/marcella-hazans.html , have to learn how to do hyperlinks). (Hey! I just clicked to test that link and noticed Luisa’s Dutch oven is the same color and general shape as mine. Oooh. I’m so cool.)
Shredding the cabbage put the first real smile of the day on my face. My newly wetted knife defied the day’s trend and was nothing but lovely, efficient sharpness. Waiting for the vegetables to change into a silky soft tangle was the perfect excuse for watching an episode of Dharma and Greg (what? you can’t do anything trying if you have to get up and stir every ten minutes or so…) and call a few friends. (True to the day, answering machines were all I got. But, you know, at least now it is their turn to call me and I can stop feeling guilty for neglecting them.)
Then all there was left to do was pour in stock and rice, wait a bit more (ha, I got to update my must-try recipe list, seven pages and counting) and add butter and grated parmesan. (Butter and parmesan. Do your salivary glands spring into action just reading those words? Yes? Say yes? I’m normal, right?)
So what if it was still today, I over-poured the rice and the soup resembled risotto more than anything? It was creamy, soft, warm. A hug in a bowl. And just one of ‘m days turned into one of mmmmm-nights.