Jan 17, 2011

A Sunday soup

The departure is always exhausting.  We have  developed it into a ritual, with a distracting breakfast, then an outing, last minute and an almost sudden goodbye.  It is better if you don't have to wait.  Or think   Then I wait through a long transit, while A has to face an empty apartment with last night's dishes still in the kitchen.    Too much sitting, not enough sleeping, a really strong G&T, with my mind constantly running.   Trying to remember, trying to forget.  Arriving a day later, just in time to chase a bus, with an even more uncomfortable seat, then finally the last walk home.  To tea and friends.  Arriving has it's perks.  Tea tastes better here.  I avoid unpacking for as long as possible, instead attend meetings: some tense, others intense.  A pint in the pub, more friends.  I tend to the sleeping garden: there is a berry that needs planting, the beans need to go, and fifty other small things that leave me with sore hands and a used body.   It is not especially cold, nor very wet, just winter.  Grey.  If I reach up, I'm sure my fingers will touch the sky; it feels so close.  Along the way Saturday is displaced by Sunday, quietly, as Sundays tend to do.  Their whole nature is one of silence.  By mid-afternoon I can taste the separation.  Summer feels so far away.



Nigel Slater was created for this mood; his Tender is comforting me tonight.  One cauliflower and an onion makes soup.  My cauliflower is shy, hiding behind leaves, unwilling to let my fingers in.  Break roughly, then boil until just tender.  In another pan, melt the colour from an onion and two cloves of garlic in a lump of butter.  A bay leaf and fresh pepper fit in well.  Add the cauliflower, and enough of the water it was cooked in too.  Simmer a bit longer, retrieve the bay leaves, and blend the rest until smooth and fluffy.  A dash of cream and handful of grated cheddar, then a few more seconds of simmering.  More pepper.  I'm at the start of a soup phase.

2 comments:

Koek! said...

You write so beautifully...

Adele said...

I think you can tell a good cook by what they do with a cauliflower. Great soup, thanks!