Soup’s On…


After a busy day…I wanted potato soup…I peeled…I chopped…I cooked…I have to say…it was the best I’ve ever made…too bad…to quote MacArthur ParkI’ll never have that recipe again…good…bad…or…indifferent…I never do…
I have umpteen cookbooks…I just never use them…at least not more than once or twice…they’re more like…inspiration books…
My neighbor once called me an intuitive cook…AKA…I put whatever I had in the pot…and hoped it tasted good…mostly…it did…
It’s just the way I learned to cook…a pinch of this…a dab of that…don’t have this…no problem…substitute that…that’s how the women in my family cooked…things were rarely measured…too much milk in the cornbread…add more cornmeal…too dry…add more milk…of course…you could end up with a huge pan of cornbread…if you weren’t careful…but…somehow…we never did…
I have to say…it’s still my favorite way to cook…whatever suits me today…going into the pot…never measuring…just pinching and dabbing…
I rarely make finicky things…like cakes…that will only rise if you do the precise amounts of the right things…sifting…leveling…don’t peek too soon…way too frustrating for me…give me a casserole…or better yet…give me soup…
Bertha says my cooking’s a lot like my life…a pinch of this…a dab of that…don’t like to follow rules…don’t have that…make do with this…stir it all up…and it turns out pretty good…mostly…
Jane

4 thoughts on “Soup’s On…

  1. My girls get so frustrated when they call me for a recipe because I cook the same way. Life is so much less stressful when things aren't so precise. Of course, if you're a surgeon or a chemo nurse, it's best to be precise.

  2. Belinda…I can't imagine cooking any other way…but you are right…I wanted my neurosurgeon to be very, very precise…

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