Potato? Yep.Ā Tomato basil? Yep.Ā Broccoli cheddar?! Hell yep.Ā Fucking TOM YUM? Shut the fuck up YEP.Ā Cauliflower?Ā Minestrone?Ā Lemon dill chicken and orzo?Ā Ā Lentil?Ā Ā Gazpacho?Ā Ā That one at Olive Garden with potatoes and sausage?!Ā Ā Vichyssoise???Ā Yep, please!
I mean there's never a bad time for soup but fall is just perfect for making soup at home. Here's Da Soup List I got:
- broccoli cheese soup
- Creamy Mushroom Soup
- Black Bean Soup
- Split Pea Soup
- Turkey Noodle Soup
- Pumpkin/Squash Soup
- Tomato Bisque
- French Onion
- Pozole Rojo/Verde
- Sopa de Ajo
- Spiced Chickpea Stew with coconut and turmeric
- Lobster Bisque/Crab Bisque
- Miso Soup
- Chicken tortilla soupĀ
- Slow cooked cauliflower and white bean soup
- Creamy tomato white bean stew
- Red lentil soup
- Corn Chowder
- Clam Chowder Any other soups I should make?
oh my god. for years I thought I hated soup--the celery and carrots in chicken noodle have never done it for me. I believed all soup could ever be was the lukewarm mush from the inside of a Campbells can or, slightly more preferably, Panera tomato bisque. since moving out I have delved into the wonderful world of stews; of "cream ofs;" of broths. you mean to tell me this entire time I could have been meeting my protein requirements by sipping on bone broth from a mug? dirtying only one pan after pureeing everything in my fridge? don't even get me started on curry.
About a year ago I woke up slightly hungover on a beautiful Fall Saturday with *literally* nothing to do, so I zombie stumbled out for coffee around noon and, long story shortā¦accidentally adopted a three-month old almost-pomeranian puppy on the way home. Soon it was Winter and the world was cold and dark and I (tired and probably still hungover) was like, āHoly fucking shit, Iām SO sorry everyone in my life / Iāve made a terrible mistake / this dog is a fucking asshole / Iām sorry he peed on your bed and Iām sorry he ate your new shoes and Iām sorry he bites your face, Gramma.ā Fast-forward an indistinguishable amount of time and incalculable number of soiled beds and heās now a perfect little angel baby bear and the coolest living thing I know.
Iāve been wanting to start wearing watches again. When I started traveling / touring - way back before cell phones were ubiquitous, online shopping possible, and the Ć¼ber-rapid expansion of global āsamenessā hadnāt snuck up on us yet - I looked forward to going to new cities or countries andā¦shopping! New (well, often vintage, actuallyā¦) unique shoes, or jackets, or bags, or watches; functional souvenirs to remember where Iāve been and what Iāve done. I miss that. Anyway, either nostalgia for a time long-gone (or maybe nostalgia for a watch-wearing dad long-gone) has made me want to start wearing watches again. Look at this killer Swatch watch I got!
Full disclosure - I donāt like Journey. Actually, I donāt even really like music. But Steve Perry in the 1980ās was a special, truly talented, beautiful somewhat-androgynous human. The voice, the hair, the jeans. UGH. I want to look like him. I want to sing like him. I think I want to fuck him?Ā I canāt stop watching his voice come out of him.
