I love making soup…and today is definitely a “soup kinda’ day”– cold, rainy, gray sky and white caps on the water.
I couldn’t decide between a hearty, meatball and barley soup or a lentil and vegetable soup – so I made both. We’ve got mega- guests coming over for a Friday night jam session, a full day Saturday “Minute-to-win-it” tournament and a dismal weather forecast for the entire weekend so I’m pretty confident that we will gobble up two big pots of homemade soup.
Chris walked into the kitchen, just in time to chow down on the meat ball and barley soup so I set him up at the end of the table so he wouldn’t get dusted from all the flour that was flying around the kitchen from the apple cake concoction I was making. Chris looked into the bowl and started to smile.
“Looks like stoup to me.”
There’s an old Portuguese proverb – “for each mouth, a different soup.” I agree. You see, Chris likes soup with broth and I like soup with body. Contrary to yesterday’s blog, there’s no “oneness” in this couple’s soup preference – Chris goes for the thin soup and I love the chunky stuff. We’ve decided that the only way that we could satisfy both of our palates and compromise with both of our descriptions was to rename my soup/stew creations. I believe it was Chris who came up with the name, “stoup” and it’s stayed with us since the day we got married.
A couple minutes later, I asked Chris how the “stoup” tasted – that was my first mistake.
“It’s good, Diane…but I gotta’ tell you – this isn’t soup. It’s not even “stoup”. This is full out stew. I could mount the satellite dish in this stuff and the wind couldn’t move it.”
I had to agree – this stuff was REALLY thick.
Chris was on a roll now. He started to laugh.
“There’s no broth at all in this bowl! I could patch this ceiling with it!”
I started to chuckle when I glanced over at the pot of stoup on the stove and noticed that the big, serving spoon was standing upright… five minutes after Chris had placed it there.
Chris continued. “This is almost a casserole.”
By this point, I was really laughing. “OK, OK. I get the message, Chris.”
The thing is, Chris didn’t have any trouble finishing off his bowl of whatever you call this stuff.
I think that women just have a primeval instinct to make soup, which they will try to foist on anyone who looks like a likely candidate. Dylan Moran
I like to drive the Honda but I don’t call it the truck. I like to drive the Jimmy but I don’t call it the car. Chris Lindstrom