Saturday, September 26, 2009

Chicken Soup Because Mark and I Are Both Sick

***EDIT*** So this is the real and true first Blog entry of this incarnation of Madwet. The idea of Madwet is for it to be a HAPPY BLOG. Madwet=things that make me super happy, turned on, fired up. What comes before this are blog posts not meant for human consumption.


So, Mark quit smoking and subsequently got sick, which makes sense. What doesn't make sense is that I also got sick. Boo. I am flying to New York on Tuesday to see a few Bruce shows with my mother and company and also to check out wedding venues. One needs energy to keep up with Bruce and this cold shit will not fly.
So, we are in the process of making some homemade chicken soup a la Grandma. Most things I cook are from watching my grandmother cook. So I just sort of do what she does.
I grew up seeing giant pots on the stove. When she is cooking soup, the giant pot has a whole chicken in it and some whole vegetables- carrots, onion, celery, parsley. And it sits there for hours. Like, I go downstairs to get something to eat, go back up watch a movie, come back down to get something to drink- hours.
So online it says not to let the broth boil profusely. Ok.
We throw a whole chicken into a pot. Mark takes out the bag of guts inside because really, I'd rather not. If I had to, I would, but if Mark is willing to deal with guts, so be it.
Pour cold water over the chicken and try the heat on medium.
Throw in whole carrots, a whole onion, halfed, and a few celery stalks.
Let that shit brew.


It's been slowly cooking for about three hours now. The surface of the water is just barely moving.
I really love slow cooking food. I love the idea of it. The way tastes and smells change as the heat gently coaxes them from whatever is being cooked.
Anyway. Soon we will removed the chicken and veggies. Strain the broth. Return it to the flame. (Well. No Flame. It's an electrical stove.)
Cut up some brand new carrots and celery and simmer them with the broth.


The chicken will practically float away from the bone like cotton candy.
We will put some in the broth. Throw in a few tortellinis. Mmmmmm.

Then, I will not be able to help myself. I will eat a bowl, chicken fat and all. I will put the pot in the fridge, and tomorrow I will take off most of the fat that will gather on top.


And hopefully, it will make us magically feel better. I need my energy for The Boss.

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