An Observation On My Parents' Cooking

     I was lucky enough to grow up in a house where both parents cooked. Granted, they did not cook every night. Both of my parents worked full time jobs. Mom usually wasn't home until about 5 PM and Dad an hour or so later. They wouldn't cook every night. Usually they'd cook a few big meals that we could eat on the rest of the week.
    On its own, this isn't anything special. Lots of parents do this. What stands out in my memory is that I don't recall them ever consulting a recipe when they cooked. I can't remember many of my recipes, no matter how often I cook them. I'm completely incapable of making my meatballs without the recipe handy. My parents either had fantastic memories, or were tremendous freestyle cooks.
     Generally my Mom came up with the core recipes. Dad would often just riff on her recipes. My Dad's chili that I've spoken of before is actually based on my Mom's recipe. She had some solid recipes. She did a chicken, veggie and rice dish that she could throw together in minutes. I swear by her meatloaf recipe. Even my wife, who normally doesn't like meatloaf, likes this meatloaf. She had a London Broil with garlic potatoes that was astounding. And as a Jewish Mother, she could deal out the chicken soup and matzoh balls like no body's business. Some day I shall speak to you of her sausage and neck bones in tomato sauce.
     Dad had his standards as well. He did a fantastic linguine in white clam sauce. He was the master of all things grilled. Nobody could make an omelet as good as him. His chili was the stuff of legend. He made a wonderful fried matzoh for breakfast. He eventually would take over Thanksgiving cooking duties from my Mom and did a wonderful job of it.
     I owe a good deal of my passion for cooking to my parents. Without ever trying, they showed me that, with very little effort, you could put good, home-made food on the table. There's a little of my Mom and Dad in everything I cook.

Oh, stop it.

Good times!

On the Importance of Soup

     Winter is technically upon us, and even though we haven't seen but a quarter inch of snow, and I was able to have a cigar on my patio because it was 54 out, I think we need to talk about soup.  Soup is a big thing in my house. We wait all year for it to get cold enough to start cranking out soups. I don't really dabble in cold soups because soup should be hot. At least that's my opinion. Before we go any further, I never watched Seinfeld, so you won't see any of his soup-related jokes.

I can't say the same for the Three Stooges

     Why is soup such a big deal? It's comforting.  For me it brings back childhood memories. Chicken soup with matzoh balls and kreplach was a big deal in my family. My grandmother used to make it, my mom made it, and now I make it. There's something reassuring about a large pot of soup simmering away on the stove. Soup is also generally easy to make. Yeah, there's some complicated soups out there, but that's not what my kitchen is about. Sometimes on a cold Sunday I'll drag out the triple slow cooker and set up three different soups for the week. They'll end up as lunches and dinners for the week. Whatever's still left gets frozen for later use. 

     There are a few big favorites in this house when it comes to soup. Chicken is always a classic. New England Clam chowder is a great winter soup. The wife is a HUGE fan of avgolemono, Greek egg, lemon and rice soup. I'll probably put up the recipe for that Monday. It seems like it would be vomitous, but it's actually really nice. We first had it at a restaurant up in Waukegan that we fondly referred to as "The Roach Motel." My favorite soup of all time? Hot and Sour. I generally only get it at restaurants because it calls for a lot of hard to find ingredients and is a colossal pain in the ass to make. 

     Provided the Mayan Apocalypse doesn't turn the Earth into a blistered wasteland, fix yourself a nice, hot bowl of soup and try to convince yourself that, despite all of the horror of late, the world's still not a bad place.

Good times!