The Soup Pot

It’s supposed to go down to the low 20s next week in North Texas and stay cold for the rest of January. The weather people haven’t mentioned snow, sleet and ice yet, but we seem all set for “stock show weather.” My mind naturally turns to soup.
This post will be submitted to the Charity Souper Bowl on the blog Branny Boils Over. For every recipe Branny receives, she’ll donate one dollar to the ASPCA, and she doesn’t want to be embarrassed by donating $13. So if you have a soup recipe, send it to her. This post is also dedicated to Scooby, my sweet but silly and aging Australian shepherd who is pacing the study floor now because he wants to go check out the kitchen floor for crumbs dropped.
For years, when my children were young and hungry all the time, I kept a soup pot. Everything went into it—a bit of a casserole, vegetables from corn and potatoes to carrots and green beans and peas, the tag end of gravy, a smidgen of leftover sauce, or the water left behind from boiling or steaming vegetables. Once a week, I fixed what I called “soup of the week.” I took a look at the soup pot and decided what it needed to make a soup for a family of five. Usually the concoction was brown—but, then, I’ve heard Texas is the land of brown food--chili, chicken-fried steak, fried potatoes. Sometimes I added an undrained can of tomatoes or a cup of broth or whatever was needed for texture and taste. You can add herbs, and salt and pepper are often a must. The kids liked it and never complained about the brown color.
You do have to be a bit careful about what you mix—if you put much chili, King Ranch chicken or something else with Mexican seasoning in it, you probably don’t want to add that leftover bit of tuna casserole (does anybody make tuna casserole, that relic of the ’50s?) Think of it as a theme to your soup pot: if it’s Mexican and you need some body to it, add a drained, rinsed can of pinto beans. If it’s more the traditional French or Italian soup pot, with say vegetables, meatballs or chicken, add some pasta or potatoes if you need starch.
For the patient, dedicated cook, here’s a minestrone recipe my daughter, Megan, gave me. It feeds an army. Megan actually makes a double batch if she’s going to dice all those vegetables. She keeps it in the freezer in batches that will feed two adults and two pre-schoolers, and she says the children love it.

Minestrone

1/3 c. olive or salad oil

¼ c. butter

1 large onion, diced

2 large carrots, diced

2 stalks celery, diced

2 medium potatoes, diced

½ lb. green beans, trimmed and cut in 1” pieces

Sauté the above in a large soup pot until lightly browned. Add,

6 c. water

16 oz. can diced tomatoes

5 oz. fresh spinach, shredded

2 medium zucchini, diced

6 beef bouillon cubes

1 tsp. salt (taste first)

Bring to a boil; reduce heat and simmer 40 minutes.

Add:

1 16 oz. can cannellini (white kidney) beans

1 16 oz. can red kidney beans

Cook 15 minutes until slightly thick. Do not overcook.

Sprinkle each serving with grated fresh parmesan or romano.

Serve with crusty French bread or garlic bread. Just slice the bread, spread it with soft butter, sprinkle with pressed garlic, chopped parsley, and parmesan or Romano. Broil until just brown at the edges.

Conspicuous wastefulness

This week the TODAY show has featured a family of five whose grocery bill averages under $300 a month, and as the mother said they eat good things--beef stroganoff is one I remember she mentioned. They are however dedicated frugalists--one of the grown daughters said she is amazed at the money her friends spend on jeans when she knows she can get a pair of $10. The grocery bill is kept in check by a lot of work--menus are planned ahead for each month, every day; coupon clipping and bargain hunting are serious business. Bottled water? Never. There are, according to the dad, a lot cheaper ways to drink good water. It struck me that living frugally is their passion in life, just as writing is mine.
But at the other end of the spectrum, today I cleaned my freezer and threw away a garbage sack of food--freezer burned things I couldn't identify, odd bits and pieces of bread. I'm pretty good about using FoodSaver and labeling, so I also discovered lots and lots of meals in there--a bit of buffalo meatloaf, still edible; a lamb chop; a full chicken breast; some marinara sauce. Three containers of ground Parmesan (I consolidated, as I did with bacon), and Jacob and I could eat hot dogs (Hebrew National) with buns for a month should we desire. Still throwing out food, even if I knew it would never get eaten, made me feel guilty, considering all the hungry across the world.
My mom lived through the Depression and never threw anything out, to the point in her later years my brother and I were discouraged to find jars in the back of her fridge with a nice crop of mold. She also saved and reused aluminum foil and paper towels--she had a special place where she kept slightly dirty paper towel. In their second use they mopped up spills on the floor. She used to accuse me of being too quick to pitch tiny bits of leftover, but I think there's some of Mom's frugality in me and that's why I stick bits of things in the freezer.
One of Mom's saving ways I used to follow when my children were young was soup of the week. Got a bit of leftover casserole? Some spaghetti sauce? Keep a pot in the fridge, add all those leftovers, and make soup once a week, adding a can of tomatoes or some boullion or whtever's needed. My soup of the week was always brown, which puzzled me. The kids remember it, perhaps not always favorably.
Along with cooking more meals for myself rather than grabbing tuna, I'm going to eat up my frozen foods and keep better control of my freezer. Ah, the best intentions . . . . now it's time for a pimiento cheee sandwich, with that cheese left from last night. Can't let it go to waste.