It’s Just Soup
Sitting at a table at the Starbucks coffee shop at Barnes and Noble, I was startled when she stood behind me, put her hands on my shoulders, and said, “Close your eyes.”
Alert for a surprise, I turned, opened my eyes, and came face to face with an ample bunch of small leafed-greenery, growing in a pot.
Somehow the idea of “pot” stuck in my mind, but it was Cathi bearing the gift, and remembering our conversation only a week before, I quickly came to my senses.
We were talking about how soup might be a good source of liquid for my wife, Harriet, who is having trouble staying hydrated these days.
I had glibly said, “Well, I will start making some good soups!” And Cathi, a very accomplished soup maker — and perhaps slightly taken in by my weak attempt to act like a soup maker myself — joined in support of the idea, making me feel like a compatriot.
So, in thoughtful follow-up, she brought me a very fine bunch of organic cilantro, which she undoubtedly thought would be an essential ingredient of those “good soups.”
Little did Cathi know that I had never made a soup (except from a packet or can) in my life, let alone a soup with cilantro.
In fact, I hadn’t even known what cilantro looked (or tasted) like.
So Where Do I Go From Here?
Heading home with a bunch of cilantro in the seat beside me caused a bit of consternation.
I had set myself up as a soup maker, and now had a benevolently bestowed bunch of cilantro that called my bluff.
Several scenarios went through my head.
There was the mental picture of me handing that cilantro to my friend Donna, who really likes to cook (relieving my guilt for wasting it), and then concocting a story for Cathi about the wonderful cilantro-laden soup I had made.
A more inherently honest mental picture was me opening a can of tomato bisque soup, and chopping that wonderful cilantro into it.
Voila! A soup with cilantro! I could extol its imaginary virtues to Cathi the next time I see her.
But after several less and less plausible scenarios like this, I decided I had to “face it like a man” (perhaps not a very appropriate admonition, given the aversion men had to cooking in my day) and actually make some soup!
Getting Started
Recalling that “when all else fails, Google,” I entered “recipe for a soup that uses cilantro,” and sat back to see what would happen.
Bypassing Carrot Chili and Cilantro soup and Lime Cilantro soup, I finally landed on Cilantro Potato Soup. (Click recipe to make it larger. Click the back arrow in the menu at the top to return to the post.)
Upon seeing the recipe, a problem reared its ugly head — I had absolutely none of the needed ingredients in the house.
So I spent a long time in the store looking for what I needed, and many dumb questions (yes, there is such a thing as a dumb question) entered my inexperienced head.
What is a “medium” potato or onion, what is a garlic clove (I saw three “balls” of garlic in a little net bag.) Did I need two bags? Let’s see, how many cups in 32 oz? Where do you find red pepper flakes? Do I need virgin olive oil, or not?
By the way, what is “virgin” olive oil?
Plunging In
OK, now with the supplies in hand, I was ready.
However, I was immediately hung up on “finely chopped” and “coarsely chopped,” as mentioned in the directions.
It didn’t work very well to try to “finely chop” the garlic and onion with a dull “sharp knife,” and I realized there wasn’t a “fine chopper” gadget of any kind In the house.
I started peeling the potatoes with a paring knife, and after a while recalled that there might be a potato peeler somewhere. I finally found it, and it helped.
Trying to follow the directions, “saute,” I recognized that the only meaning I had ever attached to the word was “heat up,” so I put the garlic and the onions together in a skillet, and turned on the heat.
At the same time, not quite understanding the recipe, I put some water in a pan and started heating up the “coarsely chopped” potatoes.
While stirring the potatoes, I noticed that in the skillet, some of the edges of pieces of garlic and onion were black. Quickly turning down the heat, I wisely concluded that perhaps a little butter in there would help.
It was about then that I realized that I wasn’t supposed to cook the potatoes ahead of time, so I shut off the heat and poured out the water.
Now I was really cooking, pun intended.
Following the Recipe
I popped the sautéed onion and garlic into the large pan of potatoes and poured in the chicken broth.
As the concoction was heating, I spent my time dipping little black pieces of garlic and onion out of the pot.
At the end of the heating, I took a careful look at the leafy, hardly edible looking cilantro, and wondered if I really wanted to put almost a cup of it in my precious soup.
But trusting Cathi, I carefully measured ¾ cup of cilantro and emptied it with reckless abandon into the hot pot.
And then came, in the directions, the unkindest cut of all.
“Use an immersion blender to puree.”
Now what in heavens name is an “immersion blender,” and if it’s what I think it is, how can I use it in a boiling pot of onions, garlic, potatoes, and cilantro?
Finally, after two hours slaving in the kitchen on a task I thought would take 40 minutes, I finally saw that I have been totally duped by the recipe!
Why in the world did I have to worry about finely and coarsely chopping the onions, garlic, and potatoes if I was going to puree the whole concoction anyway??!!!
Finishing Up
After the concoction and I finally cooled off, I ladled it into our blender and proceeded to puree.
It was at this juncture that I realized that I had not been told what to do with the olive oil. Mustering up my resourcefulness, I poured it into the concoction and pureed it with all the other stuff.
Balking at the pinch of red pepper flakes (I don’t like really spicy stuff 🙂 ), I declared the task done.
The Proof of the “Pudding” is in the Eating
It was with some trepidation that I prepared a bowl to try out — a squeeze of lime, some salt and pepper, heat, and an ample sprinkling of cilantro on top.
And now, most people would say to not spoil my dinner coming up in 15 minutes at Luther Oaks, but for me, it was SOUP TIME!
I proceeded to eat that whole bowl on the spot, without crackers!
(A wise soup aficionado once said, ”If a soup is high enough quality it doesn’t need crackers.”)
Later that week, after eating the third “leftover” bowl of my Cilantro Potato Soup (I didn’t notice that the recipe said “serves 8”), and serving it to Harriet (who ate several big spoonfuls and seemed to like it) and some other unsuspecting souls, I drew these conclusions:
- It was a pretty good soup. People, including me, really liked it. (Admitting bias, of course.)
- I am a new fan of cilantro. (I was told that some people think it tastes like soap, but not me. A great taste, as far from Lava as would be technically possible.)
- I am motivated. (By the taste, precisely. If I could regularly make a soup that tastes that good, I may become a soup maker yet.)
In Conclusion
Many thanks to Cathi, who gifted me the cilantro, and unknowingly nudged me into my exciting and rewarding soup adventure — reminding me again of the joy of trying something new.
Many thanks to the powers that be for somehow enabling me to pull off a concoction that was of reasonably good quality, and fun to eat. Yes, it was a concoction, for sure, but it was my concoction.
And as I enjoyed the last bowl in the batch, I had to keep reminding myself, “It’s just Soup!”
Pat Casey
Well done Phares! It sort of looks like split pea soup; they must be first cousins. Bon Appetit