Letting Go with Counter-Top Salads for Dinner

IMPORTANT MESSAGE: Please read my message after the story especially my gracious email subscribers.


She was three years old when she performed in her first dance recital. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and The Bunny Hop. Her little feet could be heard "tap, tap, tapping" away as she practiced for her big debut.

Considering that when she wasn't dancing she was impersonating Mary Poppins, she seemed destined for life as a performer.

On the soccer field, she was the one with bows in her hair, picking daisies, twirling around and skipping as the ball rolled past her.

When the girls around her and the competitiveness of the game grew to such a level that skipping as the ball rolled past you wasn't considered cute anymore, the Rooster and I decided to pull her from soccer. We encouraged her to forge her own path in dance.

And dance, she did...ballet, pointe, jazz, hip-hop, tap, lyrical. Six nights a week. She blossomed into an amazing dancer. And call me bias....but I love to watch her dance. She's beautiful on-stage.

And just when there seemed to be no end to her dancing days and at the height of sequins, sparkles, lycra, stage make-up and dark auditoriums, she said to me, "Mom, I'd really like to try lacrosse."

Like a needle being ripped across a record, the room went silent.

"Lacrosse?"

"Yeah, my friends who play are always telling me how fun it is."

"But, sweetie, you have to wear goggles...and a mouthguard," I said to my fashion-concious daughter.

"I know."

"And you have to get in there and mix-it up with sticks and a ball," added the Rooster. "You don't like competitive contact. Remember when you played soccer?"

"No, I don't remember. Last time I played I was like in fourth grade."

That was probably true. While her "out-in-the-field picking daisies" ways were still very present in our minds, for her it was four years ago. Practically a lifetime.

We continued to throw out reasons why lacrosse wouldn't work for her and she continued to come back with reasons why it would.

On her own, she worked out a schedule that would accommodate lacrosse, dance and school. She contacted coaches about getting on the team. She figured out how to get to and from practices. When game time came around, she not only got in there and mixed-it up, she was aggressive. And fast.

When she asked to go to a tournament in Seattle at the end of the season, we had to say no. "You are committed to your dance classes that conflict with the lacrosse practices. Your recital is coming up. You can't miss class. Other dancers are counting on you."

She contacted the coaches for the tournament and arranged to miss Monday night practices so she could be at dance. I told the Rooster that her determination should be rewarded so we agreed to let her go to the tournament.

Her team, the Bulldogs, played three games in the tournament. The Rooster and I watched every one from under umbrellas, down jackets and fleece blankets. We watched our daughter flying down the field in the rain, fighting for the ball amidst a swarm of sticks and on occasion, putting that little ball into the net to score.

Her team lost all three games. The final game had a score of 2-13 but her coach awarded her "Player of the Game" for her persistence and hard work and I felt myself tear up.

There is something so gratifying about watching your child succeed at something that she alone wanted. Something she was determined to do even if her parents were trying to talk her out of it.

So last week, instead of feeling bitter about driving her out to a lacrosse camp clear across town, leaving no time to cook but only time for counter-top meals, I was happy to do it.

And as she limped along into her dance recital over the weekend, I could tell by her demeanor that perhaps this phase of her life was coming to a close. She was still beautiful on-stage but there was something removed about her stance. And when I asked her if she thought she'd take dance next year, she said to me, "Well, I know you like me to do dance...."

That's when I told myself, "Let go."

I don't know whether her future will hold mouthguards or ballet slippers but I do know that it is her future and I am loving watching her decide for herself just what that future will be.


...


IMPORTANT MESSAGE: I know I have alluded to the fact that  I have been working with web designer, Kirsten Hope, to create a new look for La Pomme de Portland. She has helped me create a lovely new space. I know you will love it.

The time has come for us to do the site transfer. In order to do so, my website will be down for about a week starting July 3rd. I'm letting you know this for a couple of reasons.

1. I am crossing all fingers and toes that nothing will happen but there is a chance that in the transfer I may loose a few of my email subscribers' subscriptions. I apologize in advance for this. Should you not receive your regular emails from me after July 10th, you may need to go back onto my site and re-subscribe. My site address will remain the same: www.lapommedeportland.com

2. In case you want any recipes for Fourth of July, I encourage you to print them off soon. :) Once the site transfer happens, all recipes, new and old, will be available again.

Counter-Top Salads
Sometimes there just isn't time to cook. Sometimes I don't want to cook. During the summer, I don't like to spend a lot of time in the kitchen especially considering that we've just come off of the coldest, wettest spring on record in 117 years...I want to be outside where it is finally sunny. One of my favorite meals when I'm feeling like this is the ole counter-top salad. Basically, pull out any leftover bits and pieces from your refrigerator and slap them on the counter with some lettuce as a base and a vinaigrette as a topping and voila....dinner. I'm always amazed at the things my children will put on their salads...that I didn't think they would like...when I let them choose their own toppings.

Ingredients
Of course, these ingredients could be anything you have leftover but here are my favorites....

a head or two of romaine lettuce, washed and coarsely chopped
cherry tomatoes
blanched green beans
cooked red potatoes, cut into quarters
hard boiled eggs
leftover roasted chicken
crumbled gorgonzola
and usually, I put a little crumbled bacon on top or avocado but I didn't have any leftover this time

homemade vinaigrette, recipe here.


Directions
I'm assuming that most of this is leftover from other meals but should you be making it from scratch, here are a few quick tips.

To blanch green beans, trim the ends then put in boiling water for two minutes. Drain the water and immediately run cold water over them to stop them from cooking.

To cook your potatoes, wash them, quarter them and put them in a pot of salted boiling water for about 12-15 minutes or until just softened. Drain water and set aside.

For the hard boiled eggs, everyone has a different method for the timing but I put mine in a pot, cover with cold water, bring to a boil, reduce heat to very, very low and simmer for 12 minutes. Drain and run cold water over them.

For your chicken, get a roasted one from the grocery store.

Put all of your ingredients out on your counter...plates at one end, vinaigrette at the other and let the troops have at it. Quick and easy....enjoy.

...


Organizing Project
The only thing I have been organizing is my summer....travel dates, camp registrations, down time, up time...so that I can simply enjoy and not have to worry about the details.



All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2011

AM Northwest is in MY Kitchin' and We're Making "Soup on Monday"

When the kind, sweet people at AM Northwest asked if they could film a cooking segment in my kitchen, my first thought was, "Oh no, now I really am going to have to clean out that pantry." There's not much you can't find in my pantry. I like to keep my kitchen well-stocked with staples. Sometimes that's a good thing. Sometimes not. But regardless of which way you look at it, that tiny little closet was much in need of an overhaul. I could even see the eyes widen of one of my dearest friends when I told her of this opportunity and then, she glanced at my pantry. She, a former, professional organizer, kindly gave me some helpful tips. "Okay, you're going to need to pull everything out of there. Wipe it all down. And then, only put back in what you're actually going to use." I was grateful for her advice.

But, in true Carrie Minns procrastination fashion, the day before an actual, TV camera would set forth in my kitchen...I decided to clean the fridge first. "This won't take long. I'll get to the pantry in a little bit." Armed with a soapy scrubber and a sharp knife for chipping off "who knows what" on the side door, I went to work making the fridge shine.

Pleased with my work there, I headed toward the pantry but then, found myself drawn to the drawers of school paperwork that had not been sorted through in at least 2 years. My thinking was that, "I must clean out these drawers because what if I need to move items from the pantry into these drawers? What would I do then? There would be no room."

The sun was on her downward arc, my littlest one was following my every movement, people would be clamoring for dinner soon and I was starting to lose steam. I stood at the door of the pantry and stared. I half-heartedly took down some items from one shelf. Spruced them up. Put them back. Managed to do that same process with one more shelf. Swept the floor and then, decided, "Good enough." I turned and headed to the kitchen table where the 5-year old was waiting to challenge me in yet another titillating game of Candy Land.

A few weeks ago, my friend Fran asked me what I thought when I saw myself on the TV. "Do you find little things that you want to change? Are you overly critical of yourself?" And I told her honestly, "The older I get, the easier I am on myself." Somewhere along the way I realized that I'm just doing my best. Not perfectly by any means, but just like everyone else, I'm going about life the best way I know how. Years ago, I would have stayed up until 2 in the morning to clean out that pantry but now, I've realized that I do what I can. The pantry will always be there, but the 5-year old waiting to "whoop" me in Candy Land, won't.


If a video screen does not appear above this line, click here to be taken directly to the site.
And hey, check out that fridge, lookin' good...

To further expound on the TV segment, I do try my best to meal plan every week. I look at the schedule ahead and see how much time I have to cook on any given night. I consider what is in-season. Then, I write down some idea for dinner Monday-Thursday and Sunday, whether scribbled on a post-it note or put down officially in my planner. Friday is our family pizza night (and my night off.) Saturday, I'm never sure what will end up happening or whether I'll find something at the farmer's market that morning so I usually leave it up in the air. Sundays are our true "Family Dinner" night. I always plan to make something a little more special and the kids rotate having to partner with me to make that meal. I get to have some company and they get to learn some cooking skills. Then, it's back to cleaning out the fridge, for "Soup on Monday."

Here's a link to an actual recipe that mimics the soup I made on the segment: Rainy Day Vegetable Soup


And, if you want to look further into meal planning, here are two websites dedicated to meal planning.
My friend, Jane Maynard, plans weekly at: This Week For Dinner
And my friend, Tricia Callahan, plans monthly at: Once a Month Mom


One last thing, if you'd like an incredibly beautiful reminder of all the bounty that this season has to offer for meal planning, check out this desk top calendar which currently graces the screen of my computer:
November Calendar by Shanna Murray and Jen Causey


Have a wonderful weekend, my friends!



All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

A Medley of Summer Salads

There they are. Like always. Pots of red, white and blue petunias and geraniums. A thoughtfully placed flag off to one side. They are the first thing I notice. The first thing I look for because isn't that what holidays are for? The expected. The traditions. The counted on. The nostalgic.

The same gathering of aunts  and uncles, nieces and nephews, grandparents, old family friends and exhausted, bleary-eyed mothers and fathers. The same annual volleyball tournament that always starts out so benignly and ends up with small children running for their lives and not a single adult admitting to his competitive nature. The same water fights that somehow bring out the eldest children's apparent knowledge of guerrilla warfare tactics.  The same passing stage of younger ones trying out "forbidden language" while hiding under an old dollhouse. "Hi, Mr. Poopyhead." "Hiya, Mr. Poopyhead." A burst of giggles and then, once they've been found out, a rush of whispers, "I hope she doesn't tell my Mom." The same testosterone driven fireworks display between neighbors. Whose is the biggest? Whose flies up the longest? Whose makes the biggest "boom"? Followed up by the strutting of the 10-year old who has graduated into a bona-fide pyrotechnic. Finally being allowed to light more than just a sparkler.

And then, there's the food. Oh, the food. The food we count on every year. The same food we request every year. My mother's incredible, not-too "saucey" potato salad. The one which no Fourth of July would be complete without. My father's masterful grilling skills. Hamburgers. Hot dogs. The cheerful little platter of deviled eggs that disappear as quickly as a shallow bowl of oysters on ice....if you like oysters that is. Wait a minute. Come to think of it, where were the deviled eggs this year?! The familiar spinach dip in a bread bowl. The homemade guacamole. Bowls of cherries, grapes and watermelon. The chocolate chip cookies. The apple pie. The lemon bars. And then, there's always one who has to monkey with the menu. The vegetable pusher. The one who views holidays not only as a time for the tried and true but also a time to try something new. The one who insisted on making not one but two vegetable dishes when clearly, we already had more food than we could eat. And so she blanched her asparagus. Her green beans. She minced up her homegrown herbs. (The only thing the slugs haven't eaten.) She whisked together her dressings and she added her dishes to the buffet.

And so we sat. Outside. All together. Eating. In our winter parkas. And, we complained about how much food we had. "Oh, I can't possibly eat all of this." And, we looked out across the Puget Sound. At the ferries gliding across the water. And, we listened to the patriotic bagpipe music in the background. And we talked about this and that. Something funny the kids had done. Our aches and pains. And we ate the familiar (and not-so-familiar) food and with eat bite of creamy potato salad, we celebrated the start of summer. Being together. And, the Fourth of July.

Medley of Summer Salads
So today I give you not one, but two recipes. Love both of these. One was new to our 4th of July buffet last year and the other was brand spankin' new. Both received rave reviews, although, truth be told, the second salad definitely seemed to hit a chord with the women in the group a bit more than the men. A chick salad, perhaps? Head on out to your local produce stand and make these up. You won't be disappointed.

Green Bean Summer Salad
Adapted from Sunset, June 2009

Ingredients:
2 lbs green beans, cut into 2 inch pieces
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp Dijon mustard
3 tbsp olive oil
1/4 cup each, minced fresh basil, chives and cilantro
1 cup thinly sliced red onion
3/4 cup toasted pine nuts (optional)
1/2 cup feta cheese crumbled (optional)
1/2 tsp each of salt and pepper (or to your liking)

Fill a large saucepan with water and bring to a boil. Carefully, drop in your green beans and cook for 2-3 minutes or until your green beans are slightly softened. Drain your green beans and rinse with cold water until cool to the touch.

In a large bowl, whisk together the lemon juice, mustard, oil and herbs. Add green beans, onion, pine nuts, feta, salt and pepper. Stir to combine. Best served at room temperature. Delicious the next day for breakfast alongside some scrambled eggs and toast.


Cherry Tomato and Asparagus Chick Salad
Adapted from Sunset, June 2010

Ingredients:
1 lb asparagus, trimmed and cut into thirds
3 cups halved cherry tomatoes (6 c in original recipe)
1/2 cup gorgonzola cheese
1 ripe avocado, cut into cubes
1/2 cup sliced basil leaves (1 c in original recipe)
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tsp lemon juice
2 tsp Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp each kosher salt and pepper

Boil asparagus in a large pot of salted water for 2 minutes. Drain and rinse with cold water.

In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, mustard, salt and pepper.

In a large bowl, combine your asparagus, tomatoes, cheese, avocado and basil. Gently stir in your dressing to coat your vegetables evenly. Then, eat up. This colorful little number is best eaten soon after making. Not so good for breakfast the next day. Chicks dig it.


All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

Une Petite Pomme: Primetime Wrap-Up

Well, I somehow made it to the KATU studios yesterday morning through the torrential rain and a morning bleakness that would suggest mid-winter not end of May...on-time. (Yes, I know. Big accomplishment for me.) Could there be any more main thoroughfares under construction in our fair city? Gads....

I am so appreciative that the kind AM Northwest producer and hosts invited me back again for a second cooking segment. "Thank you. Thank you." I'll let you be the judge of how it went but luckily, still no nose picking, no cursing like a sailor. Kind of tried to make a funny joke about Dave Anderson, the host, cutting his hand which didn't really come off good or bad. (When I'm nervous, I tend to think I'm funny and crack bad jokes.)

(If you do not see a video screen right above this sentence, click here to be directed to the actual video on the AM Northwest website.)

Afterwards, I drove straight to Crema and ordered myself up a good, stiff drink. Whew.....



All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

String Beans and Caramelized Shallots

How do you know when you should be your child’s advocate? Or when their hurt is simply nothing more than a lesson from life? Do you have that conversation with that teacher? That parent? That coach? Or do you simply stand back and let life take its course. Life’s not fair. We don’t always get what we want even if we play by all the rules. Were past generations of parents wiser for knowing how to stand back? Stay removed? Don’t get involved? Or will our children be better for having us stand up for what they rightly deserve?

These questions run through my mind as I jam the hoe-like tool into our god-forsaken clay dirt. I am planting bulbs. Those shallot look-alikes that must be planted before the winter. Before the clay earth morphs into brick by the frigid temperatures. I do not enjoy planting bulbs. I loathe it. But…plant, I do. I have 150 of these “shallots” to get in the ground. Years ago, I instituted a rule for myself to prevent over-zealous bulb buying. “You may not buy any more than 25 bulbs at a time. You must plant those 25 bulbs before you buy anymore.” Does this look like 25?

And, if you do choose to have that conversation, will it be perceived as petty? Another over-involved parent? Or appreciated for what it is…communicating? Trying to come to an understanding? And, at what point do you hand over the torch and let them be their own advocate with you cheering them on? When are they old enough to do that? And, if they don’t, maybe the true desire wasn’t there for them…only you, the parent. Is it their passion? Or yours? Does my child feel slighted? Or do I?

We don’t get much of a spring here in the Pacific Northwest. Actually, we don’t get a spring at all. We go from freezing cold, gray and rainy in the winter to cold, gray and rainy in the spring. The only sign that spring has actually sprung is the myriad of daffodils that beam their cheerful, yellow trumpets along roadways. Bunched along fences. Clustered near front doors. They are the only sign of spring. And I love them for it.

How do we know how to separate what we want for our children and what they want for themselves? Different decisions we wish we would have made in our own lives, we now make for our children. What do they truly have the talent for and what is just wishful thinking? What do they truly love and what do we love them to do?

I pull out my “hoe” ready to slip in the bulb. The earth tumbles back into my newly-dug hole. Arrrrgh. I grab a trowel and try to dig faster than gravity. Is that 3 times the height of the bulb? When I glance at the pile of bulbs still waiting to be planted, I decide that this hole is good enough. The bulb has been planted. We’ll see what happens come spring.

Maybe we can never know the right answer. Maybe we make the best decisions that we can and that’s good enough. And, then, we wait…and see what happens.

The sky is beginning to darken. I grab a whiff of a neighbor’s dinner floating by in the air. My stomach growls. I gather my tools and my basket of bulbs. No time left today. I leave them in the garage and head inside to chop up some actual shallots for our dinner.

String Beans and Caramelized Shallots

1 lb French string beans (haricots verts), ends removed OR regular string beans

1/2 tsp Kosher salt

2 tbls olive oil

1 tbls butter (optional)

2 large shallots, chopped (approx 1 cup)

black pepper, to taste

Blanch the string beans in a large pot of boiling water for 1 1/2 minutes (3 minutes if using regular green beans.) Drain immediately and spray them with cold water to stop them from cooking any further.

Heat the oil and butter in a large sauté pan and sauté the shallots on medium heat for 10-15 minutes, tossing occasionally, until lightly browned. If your shallots seem to be browning too quickly, turn your heat down a bit.

When the shallots are done, add your drained green beans to the pan, along with the salt and pepper. Heat only until the beans are hot.

Don't even bother with forks and knives. Eat these with your fingers!

This time of year, I serve these on a weeknight with a roasted chicken I picked up at my favorite grocery store and boiled fingerling potatoes tossed with olive oil, apple cider vinegar and salt and pepper. For Christmas Dinner, these accompany my father's creamy mashed potatoes and a delicious Bœuf Bourgignon.

All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009

Rainy Day Vegetable Soup

After years of cajoling, pleading, begging and badgering by my children...I finally planted the oft-promised vegetable garden. Of course, once the hoopla surrounding the choosing of the vegetables and the planting of the seeds was over, I was left alone to tend to my little plot. (Just as I'm sure would happen if I ever cave to the cries of, "When can we have a puppy?" Just me, the full grown dog, his hair and his, well, his "business" to pick up.) All that aside, I am thoroughly happy to tend to my garden. There is something quite gratifying about seeing those little green shoots poke their way up out of my plot's blank canvas. Even more satisfying is skipping back into the kitchen with a bowl full of my very own lettuce for that evening's salad. Lettuce I didn't have to pay for. Lettuce I didn't have to use the car to acquire. Lettuce that I know hasn't been sprayed with anything other than water. And, never mind about the little holes throughout the leaves, I'm happy to share my harvest with a few nighttime critters.

My little "potager" was ticking right along. The lettuce season was drawing to a close as the weather heated up. I was looking forward to my summer produce. Luscious tomatoes, crisp cucumbers and loads of zucchini I'd have to leave on doorsteps of neighbors in the middle of the night because I wouldn't know what to do with it all. And then, dear friend, as I'm sure you can sympathize...a water leak. One of those household maintenance projects that comes at you out of nowhere and scoots itself right to the top of the To Do list and strong arms everything else aside. There sat my precious garden. Right beneath the culprit of the leak...horrors! Over the course of the next few weeks, I watched as my tomato plants bravely stretched out their arms, baring their little yellow flowers and green globes. The zucchini put out its cheery orange blossoms and the cucumber plant decided to climb out and over the side. The beans bailed on the trellis and instead, scampered all over the ground. Meanwhile, a hailstorm of sawdust and debris tumbled down onto my little plants. Men on ladders were climbing up and over them. Mother Nature decided to heat up Portland to an unheard of 106 degrees. (Or 110, or 115 depending on whom you speak with and how much they like to embellish.) Their branches were broken. Their green leaves appeared to be covered with snow. And yet, even at the worst of it, when I could hardly bear to watch, I'd peak out from behind the curtain and somehow they were still there. Growing. Thriving.

I'm happy to report that I reaped my first harvest. Not much I'll admit but still...it's something. I popped the first 5 cherry tomatoes right into my mouth...well, after I gave them a good brushing off. Didn't share nary a one. I wasn't sure what to expect considering that their growing environment had been less than ideal. Ummmm. Sweet. Luscious. Juicy. And, the best part of homegrown tomatoes right off the vine...they were still warm from the sun.

As often happens here in Portland, even in the summer, our warm, morning sun was quickly blotted out by rain clouds, the temperature dropped and what should have been a day full of sprinklers and peals of laughter, became a day that sent everyone indoors, putting on jammies, wool socks and pining away for a nice, fall soup. Usually, I don't make this soup until autumn when the kids are back in school and apples are in season but considering that I had fresh, green beans at my beckon call and the weather had taken a turn...I went ahead. Plus, being a prolific soup maker, I had finally used the gift card my parents had bestowed upon me two years ago for Christmas to buy a brand new soup pot and I was dying to give it a whirl. So, there I stood, happy as a clam, cutting up my onions, green beans, zucchini and carrots while I sipped on a glass of scott paul pinot noir, cuvée Martha Pirrie, in honor of my dear father-in-law (or as the French say and I much prefer, my “beau-pére”) who passed away a year ago this day. I had his favorite Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass song, A Taste of Honey, playing in the background and I contentedly found myself lost in my remembrances of him and surrounded by the warm, swirling smells of sautéed onions.

I set down steaming bowls of my vegetable soup, a plate of Ayers Creek Farm blackberries and yellow peaches, sliced ciabatta bread and remnants of cheese pieces I found in the fridge - goat, brie, a hunk of cheddar - on the worn kitchen table. Within minutes, my children had licked their platters clean and we were nourished and fulfilled by our humble meal. We talked about Grandad. His smile. His quiet laugh. His humming. His love for his grandkids. And, as my sweetie put it, his gratitude for seemingly small things. So, please, if you will, dear friend, raise a glass for Grandad, his genuine gratitude and the pleasure of the harvest no matter how small. No matter how dusty.

Rainy Day Vegetable Soup - Summer Version

Ingredients:

1 tbls olive oil or a couple laps around the pot with the olive oil jug

2 med yellow onions

2 garlic cloves

1 cup carrots, diced

1 cup celery, diced

1 cup green beans, chopped into 1" pieces

2 medium zucchini, diced

2 tsp Herbes de Provence OR 6 sprigs fresh thyme & 2 bay leaves

2 qts chicken broth OR 2 qts vegetable broth for a vegetarian version

1 28-oz can diced tomatoes

1 15-oz can cannellini beans OR any other any other can of white beans you have lying around

2 medium, red- or white-skinned potatoes, cubed

A handful of small pasta - alphabet, orzo, broken spaghetti pieces, etc.

1 tsp salt & 1/2 tsp ground pepper or to taste

Piece of parmesan cheese rind, optional

Pistou, optional:

1 cup fresh basil leaves

2 garlic cloves

1/4 cup grated, parmesan cheese

1/8 to 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/8 cup tomato paste, optional

Directions:

Before you begin, dear friend, please gather up for yourself a glass of your favorite sipping beverage, whether it be the aforementioned pinot noir or a simple cup of mint tea. (Sometimes my choice is tied directly to the noise level in our home.) Put on your favorite, calming, mood music and then, find yourself lost in the repetitive motion of your VERY SHARP knife slicing through the bounty.

Put your pot over low to medium heat to warm-up. Prep your onions to be diced. Swirl the olive oil in your pot and then, dice your onions. I find that doing these tasks in this order results in the perfect timing for heating and dicing. Now, if the thought of dicing an onion makes you literally flee the kitchen, please treat yourself to this 1 minute video How to Chop an Onion or most likely, any other you find on youtube of the same subject. I learned this technique years ago and it has made all the difference. You can apply the same principles to your other dicing needs as well.

Put your diced onion into your pot over medium-low heat. You want your onion to soften and become translucent with just a hint of caramel color but you don't want it to brown or burn. I find that this step, done correctly, is the secret to all delicious soups calling for onion. Stir occasionally. Check your heat to make sure your onions are not browning too quickly.

While your onion is sautéing, dice up your garlic, carrots and celery. Once they are prepped, pour them all into the pot, give them a stir and continue chopping your zucchini and green beans. Put them into the pot. Add the spices or fresh herbs, salt and pepper. Stir. Chop up your potato. At this point, your onions, celery and carrots should be softened and your green beans and zucchini, warmed. Pour your chicken stock and tomatoes into the pot, drop in the optional piece of parmesan cheese rind and bring it all to a boil. Once boiling, add your potatoes, bring back to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer 20-25 minutes.

While your soup is simmering, you can decide to make the pistou or skip it. I always base my decision on how much time I have, how much energy I have remaining from my daily allotment and whether or not I have any fresh basil laying around. A nice grating of parmesan cheese over this soup does just as nicely as the pistou.

On this day, I decided to make the pistou which is just a fancy way of saying I made a type of paste that you dollop on top of your finished vegetable soup for added flavor dimension. Not having a mortal and pestle, I chopped up the basil and garlic. Then, I took the backside of a serving spoon and mashed up the two ingredients on my cutting board. I added the grated cheese to the pile and continued mashing. Then I just drizzled the olive oil on top. Stirred it all together until it was pasty and had everyone serve themselves the pistou straight from the cutting board. Why dirty another dish?

By this time, the "stomach-growling inducing" aroma filled the kitchen. I washed my blackberries. Sliced my peaches. Pulled some cheese out of the fridge to warm-up to room temperature. My buzzer went off. I added the cannellini beans and the handful of pasta and set the timer for another 10 minutes. By the time my buzzer went off again, I had laid out the bread, cheese, fruit and finagled one of the children innocently passing by the kitchen to pour a round of water for everyone. Before you knew it, we were sitting down to our meal and toasting Grandad.

Now, as with all things worth waiting for - wine, women, types of cheese, soups - this soup is delicious the first day but even better the next day and the next. As the soup ages, flavors co-mingle to give it a certain depth and complexity it lacks when it's so young. So, enjoy it for dinner tonight but appreciate the soup's deeper flavors the following days.

PS: Fish out that cheese rind after the initial cooking. I find that when left in the soup for subsequent days, the cheese flavor over-powers all of the other ingredients and therefore, tuns vegetable soup into a rather disturbing-looking cheese soup. And while you're fishing, you may want to grab the bay leaves and thyme stems. You wouldn't want to accidentally choke those down.

Yield: Enough for a family of 5, plus leftovers for lunch the next day.

Originally written: August 12, 2009

All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009