Our not-cooking streak was finally broken, and I can’t take any credit. My boyfriend made soup twice this week. I tend to stop making soup when the weather gets warm, but both of these meals made me rethink that stance. My boyfriend, who reads a lot of Mark Bittman, cooks with a sort of austerity and simplicity that I really admire. Here is his soup recipe: ”Cut everything up, put it in a pot with some water, boil it, turn it down, cover it, and wait.”
chicken soup (beginning from a whole boiled chicken) with carrots, onions, potatoes and rice.
vegetable soup with asparagus, broccoli, cauliflower, celery, green beans, garlic, mushrooms, spinach, summer squash, tomatoes, and zucchini.
When I was five I wrote a poem about soup that I can only remember some of, including the line, “the children are slipping on their slip-on shoes,” which leads me to believe I must have always imagined soup as also a summertime food. My writing has only gone downhill since then.