Come Hell Or High Water

I gotta confess, I think I've been in a bit of a slump lately.

I call it a slump because I can't think of a better name for it. It's not the blues, or depression, or even a midlife crisis - I'm not on Prozac or curled up in a fetal position or anything - in case you are wondering. But I did spend an entire Sunday in sloppy, gray sweatpants, and a t-shirt with a stain on it, curled up in bed, watching chick flicks, strung out on Coke Zero and Entenmann's Chocolate Donuts - but that's a whole other story. I'm just lacking my usual zest and energy for life. And I think it's mostly due to the weather.

With all the topics in the world - soup and cooking included - I hate to write about something so mundane as the weather. One would think, I would have more to say. But we've had an extraordinarily wet, cloudy, windy, grey, spring and it's beginning to wear on me. And funny thing is, I've often romanticized about living in rainy Seattle, or dreary London, spending long, quiet days inside cozy cafes, sipping soup, reading Voltaire. But I think I know how those people feel now. Damp and depressing.


Just like that bunch of White Asparagus I saw at the grocery store the other day, I'm beginning to grow weak and pallid. I need sunlight. I need warmth.

On the good side of things, soup season has been extended, and my son and I ate lunch at a great little place yesterday, Cheever's Cafe, housed in an old flower shop in OKC. The large, walk-in, wooden, refrigeration coolers, formerly holding rows and rows of colorful flowers, now hold wine and desserts. I loved the atmoshpere. And in deference to this unending, torrential, precipitation we are experiencing, I ordered a great big bowl of Tortilla Soup. It arrived in a large, white, shallow bowl, generously sprinkled with thinly sliced, yellow and blue corn tortilla strips. Much like a creamy tomato, but smooth, spicy, rich, and loaded with tender pieces of white chicken at the bottom. I savored it. And was tempted to lick the bowl - but that would have really embarrassed my son. It was the perfect remedy for such a grey day and I can't wait to go back to Cheever's again.

I think it is high time we had another soup recipe here. For even when I am not posting about soup - I am still eating and thinking about soup. So I prepared this quick batch of Southwestern Vegetable Soup late one evening this week. I didn't have time to take a picture of it. I'll try to add one soon. But I took some to work in a Tupperware container the next day - and the kids finished the rest - and it was well worth the trouble of dirtying a knife, and a chopping board, and a little pot, to reap such tasty and convenient rewards.

This is a tasty, brothy soup, with just a hint of spice. And the thing I like best about it is that you don't really need laborious ingredients like stocks and broths - so you can whip it up on a moments notice. Also, it's a good recipe to keep on hand when you've got more zucchini than you know what to do with, which, in all good households, happens at least once a year.

So that is all I have for today.

Tomorrow, come hell or high water, I am going to the Farmers Market. And after listening to tonight's weather forecast - I think, I should prepare for the latter.

Southwestern Vegetable Soup

Start by lightly browning 3 or 4 organic, boneless, salted and peppered, chicken breast strips in a bit of olive oil. When almost cooked through, remove from pan and set aside.

In same pan, add a little more olive oil, if needed, and saute chopped onions, carrots, and celery until tender.

Add some chopped garlic. Then a couple fresh, chopped zucchini squash; 2 chopped Anaheim peppers; and 1 chopped jalapeno pepper and saute until tender.

Then add spices: Mexican Oregano; coriander; cumin; bay leaf; and a pinch of Ancho Chili Powder; along with salt and pepper.

Next add about 2 cups chopped, fresh tomato and enough water to cover vegetables and to make soup.

Lastly, shred the chicken breast and add to the soup.

Allow to simmer for a while, until all is tender.