Ha. I sit down to post my third message, only to find I want to talk about soup again. Two out of three posts on soup, and I don’t even like the stuff that much. Or should I say I don’t like the version of soup I usually get? Salty, a bit gloopy, with no discernible taste of fresh ingredients. Not ones I know, anyway. Yup, that’s what they serve at the cafeteria at work.
I like my mom’s soup, even if I didn’t growing up. (Might be something to do with those bits of leek that hit my lip with a sting of heat every bite I took, no matter how diligently I blew on it.) But there’s not much around of that, in my Amsterdam kitchen, so soup is not usually a priority.
Acquiring my own kitchen has inspired all sorts of domesticity in me (a cancerian, who’s already up to her eyeballs in a love for baking cookies and lounging on my couch, surrounded by blankets, books and cups of hot drinks… just what I needed, more domesticity…), though, and a new-found attraction to soup is one of them. Far less upsetting than a new love of, say, cleaning things (before you know it you spend precious couch-and-blanket time scrubbing floors or polishing shower tiles), but still. A bit of a revolution.
Since I don’t tend to make soup, I don’t have any tried-and-trusted recipes lying around for soupy moments. So when the urge struck this morning, I had to make it up as I went. And it couldn’t be just any soup either. It had to be healthy, fortifying soup to help me get over the last vestiges of a mild flu-attack. Plus, it had to taste good to celebrate the fact that I can taste things again. (If only by making snorting sounds with every bite to allow enough air to pass my taste buds. No matter. Silent eating is for whimps.)
A quick trip to the supermarket yielded a head of broccoli and some leek. Combined with the turkey stock in my freezer (and, you know, bouillon cubes…) and a good pinch of rosemary, I made me quite a nice pot of green water. A bit of yoghurt for creaminess and a bit of mustard and garlic for oomph and my system was fortified with all the vitamins and fibres it could want. Or so I hope.
Now for a glass of orange juice. And where did I put that bottle of Cif?