Everything but the kitchen sink

This cold spell has had me housebound, which means I’ve been in my little kitchen more than usual. One of the best things I fixed was what I call kitchen sink soup. You can guess why—yes, it has everything but the proverbial kitchen sink. I “build” it with leftovers, carrying on my mother’s lifelong habit of saving a dab of this and a dash of that. Leftover chili but not enough for another serving? Put it in the soup pot. The same with casseroles, bits of meat, whatever. When there’s enough to consider it soup, I usually add some broth, either chicken or beef, and a can of diced tomatoes. Depending on what’s already there, I may add frozen corn or peas, some potatoes cut up or pasta of one kind of another. I don’t add rice, because it absorbs the liquid and swells up until you have stew rather than soup.

I used to make this for my kids when they were in high school. We called it “Soup of the Week,” and laughed because it always came out brown. But it was good, and they liked it. I told Christian I had homemade soup and asked if he wanted some. “I’d have to know what’s in it first,” he replied. I told him that was an impossible question to answer. Actually, the soup I ate the last two days was definitely tomato based, and I detected shredded chicken, pinto beans, corn, and two meatballs. The rich soup had a hint of lamb, and I think that was from the meatballs. Yesterday I did as I would do with chili and stirred in a dab of sour cream just before eating. So good.

I also experimented with chicken thighs recently, but I think I reported that—some success both with a recipe for garlicky thighs with lime and soy and a version of smothered chicken—delicious but didn’t keep well for the next day. And my other accomplishment in the kitchen was to cobble together several versions of the classic salmon dip that everyone makes and come up with the version I like best. Simple ingredients—cream cheese, sour cream, scallions (why bother grating onion?), canned salmon, a bit of lemon, maybe a dash of Worcestershire. finely chopped parsley for color, dried dill if you like it.

While I was in a kitchen mood, I tackled the stack of magazines that accumulated on my desk, mostly Bon Appetit and Southern Living. The arrival of Bon Appetit used to be a red-letter day for me, but lately I find fewer recipes that interest me. I’m not sure if it’s me, not moving ahead as cooking trends change and grow, or if it’s a change in focus by the magazine. Probably a bit of both. But I’m not interested in putting kale in everything I cook, and many contemporary health-food trends leave me cold. Southern Living has remained more traditional, and I cut out such recipes as a warm apple compote with cheddar, or Capitol Hill Ham and Bean Soup (Now, see, the leftovers could go in the soup pot), or an herbed sour cream and smoked salmon topping for the latkes I never did make this holiday season.

A recipe I found and really liked was for Rigatoni with Silenced Smartphones. Now if I could get hats off the head and elbows off the table, I’d feel it was a civilized dinner table. Call me old-fashioned, go ahead. I think I’m proud of it.