[Soup and cranberry juice, one of my favorite dinners, November 2008.]
The trouble with leftovers is that you can get tired of them. Or, at least, I tire of them after awhile. I love making an enormous pot of quinoa-mushroom-spinach chowder, and will eat it happily throughout the week for lunch, but by the time beloved Friday rolls around I’m looking at my tupper-ware container with slight distaste — even though it’s one of my very favorite meals. I’m sure you know what I mean.
And yet, we come home late. Or, actually, we don’t come late at all but we come home tired and the thought of cooking a real meal after 9 hours on the job is just exhausting. I am still learning how to manage this whole cooking thing when I am not cooking for anyone else — and believe me, for a nurtrurer like myself, that’s darn hard. Wait, I have to take care of myself? Paging Jessie and Lupe! Is it OK to cook a three-course meal just pour moi?
The other night I had some chickpeas and spinach lingering from the night before, and as I went for my cold and dark run, I tumbled in chilly and hungry. I plopped the beans into a pot with a bit of pre-made roasted pepper/tomato soup and yeah I hardly felt any guilt for not making myself a meal from-scratch. Maybe it was because I ran 6 miles and was thus cold and sore but it really hit the spot, like, really. Make of that what you will, ladies.
I’m going to come up with sort-of original recipe for this soup, so I’m warning you now: expect to hear lots more about it in the future, possibly post-Thanksgiving weekend when I will need to return to my vegetal roots and lay off the yummy carbs, cheese, pie (!), wine and all of that good stuff. I mean, it really is so good, but it’s not always so good for the old arteries.
Not to mention: cookie season begins shortly, and I am powerless in the face of giving baked goods as gifts. You’ll see – and I do hope it’ll help you along with your own gifts and saving money during this crashed and burning economy which, to be honest, I’ve pretty much broken up with. Yet I always have hope, and maybe come inauguration day we’ll have a whole other tune to sing.
Until then — chickpeas. Tomatoes. Spinach. Soup. It’s all coming, and soon.