Fog and soup just go together, I think.

The fog today is thick as pea soup.

I drove to work this morning in kind of a haze, and not just because Finn decided that 4 am was a good time to wake up and could not really get comfortable enough to go back to sleep - there was no rocking that kid, no walking around, no getting comfortable in our bed, no getting comfortable in his own bed.  He was comfortable using his vocal chords, though, so maybe it was some growing pains; I swear he gets longer every time I blink.  I think all three of us finally fell back to sleep around 5:30 (luckily Abby can sleep through anything - even when Finn was teeny tiny and would loose his baby mind a couple of times a night, she slept right through it.).

So, while I welcomed the fog this morning, I would have been happier if I could have been sleeping in.

And, while I love pea soup and Abby loves pea soup, Uriah does not love pea soup.  I usually have to wait until he's going to be gone for awhile so that Abby and I can enjoy it!  Foggy days call for soup of some sort, though, and this soup, Soupe au Pistou, is the first meal I made for Uriah.  I can't say that I was nervous about cooking for a chef, because, let's face it, I know I have some skills in the kitchen and if I worked well under pressure, I probably would have become a chef at some point (I tend to procrastinate and too much pressure causes me to freak out on everyone around me, so I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have made a very good chef.).  I was flipping through his French cookbook one afternoon when we were first dating, and I stumbled upon this vegetable soup recipe that I thought looked amazing.  I declared myself the Maker of the Dinner that evening and when Uriah asked what I was going to make, I said it was a surprise.

I chopped, I simmered, and I stirred all afternoon and the little Hobbit Hole apartment smelled amazing.  I also made some homemade dinner rolls to augment my culinary soup genius because there is nothing better than proofing dough and punching it down and baking it to a pretty brown crust on the outside and a warm, chewy inside.  Every time Uriah tried to see what I was doing, I would shoo him (9 inches) back into the living room.  Finally, I was ready to serve dinner -at the coffee table, because, remember, the apartment was literally the size of a Hobbit Hole, so there was no room for a dinning table of any sort.  And he's a boy, so he didn't really care that he ate, every night, sitting on the couch.  Anyway, I served up big bowls of steaming soup with pretty green and orange and red vegetables floating in the broth and a big spoonful of pesto right smack in the middle of the bowl and announced with all the glee of a kindergartner at show-and-tell that dinner was ready.

And then I proceeded to disappoint my future husband.

I'll give him credit for telling me that it smelled really good and for trying the soup first.  But after that initial first bite, he asked where the meat was.  There is no meat, I told him.  It's a vegetable soup.  It didn't seem to register and he looked very confused and kept asking, much to my growing annoyance, where the meat part of the meal was.  I learned very quickly that a meal with no meat is really not a meal for Uriah.

Regardless, once he got over his Man Needs Meat mentality, he really seemed to enjoy the soup.  And, of course, warm homemade bread does help soften the meatless blow somewhat.  While you can always buy pesto at the store, I find it's best to make your own.  And it's really easy, too.  I make a bunch in the summer when my basil plants are at their peak of production and then freeze it to use in the winter when buying fresh basil at the store isn't always reliable.  And, if you really do need to add some meat to this meal, a few roasted chicken breasts shredded and added to the broth at the end would be acceptable.

I've made this a few times over the years, and while I know Uriah will eat it, and like it, I learned that it's best to make a meat-less meal and not tell Uriah about it in advance, although inevitably he will tell me all of the ways I could have fit meat into the recipe.

Enjoy!

Soupe au Pistou

(We've shortened it to just Pistou in our house.)

serves 6-8

• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
• 1 onion, finely chopped
• 2 small or 1 large leek, finely sliced
• ½ teaspoon herbs de Provence
• 1 celery sstalk, finely sliced
• 2 carrots, finely diced
• 2 small potatoes, finely diced
• 4 oz. green beans
• 5 cups water
• 2 small zucchini, finely chopped
• 3 medium tomatoes, peeled, seeded and finely chopped
• 2 cup green peas, fresh or frozen
• Handful of spinach leaves, cut into thin ribbons
• Salt and pepper to taste

In a large soup pot, heat the oil.  Add the garlic, onion and leeks and cook, stirring occasionally until the onion is soft.  Add the herbs de Provence and stir to combine.  Add the celery, carrots and cook, covered, for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Add the potatoes, green beans and water, then salt and pepper.  Bring to a boil, skimming any foam that rises to the surface; reduce heat, cover and simmer gently for 10 minutes.  Add the zucchini, tomatoes and peas and simmer for about 25-30 minutes or until the vegetables are tender.  Add the spinach and simmer for another 5 minutes.  Season the soup and serve with a swirl of pesto.

Pesto

(You can use leftover pesto on a grilled ham and cheese sandwich and it is amazing!)

• 4 cloves of garlic
• 1 cup packed fresh basil leaves
• ½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
• ¼ cup toasted pine nuts
• ½ cup extra virgin olive oil

 Pulse garlic, basil Parmesan cheese and pine nuts in a food processor and process until smooth.  Scrape down the sides.  With the machine running, stream in the olive oil and pulse until mixture is pureed.  Stores in your refrigerator for up to a week.  Can be frozen; thaw when ready to use.

The fog today is thick as pea soup.

I drove to work this morning in kind of a haze, and not just because Finn decided that 4 am was a good time to wake up and could not really get comfortable enough to go back to sleep - there was no rocking that kid, no walking around, no getting comfortable in our bed, no getting comfortable in his own bed.  He was comfortable using his vocal chords, though, so maybe it was some growing pains; I swear he gets longer every time I blink.  I think all three of us finally fell back to sleep around 5:30 (luckily Abby can sleep through anything - even when Finn was teeny tiny and would loose his baby mind a couple of times a night, she slept right through it.).

So, while I welcomed the fog this morning, I would have been happier if I could have been sleeping in.

And, while I love pea soup and Abby loves pea soup, Uriah does not love pea soup.  I usually have to wait until he's going to be gone for awhile so that Abby and I can enjoy it!  Foggy days call for soup of some sort, though, and this soup, Soupe au Pistou, is the first meal I made for Uriah.  I can't say that I was nervous about cooking for a chef, because, let's face it, I know I have some skills in the kitchen and if I worked well under pressure, I probably would have become a chef at some point (I tend to procrastinate and too much pressure causes me to freak out on everyone around me, so I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have made a very good chef.).  I was flipping through his French cookbook one afternoon when we were first dating, and I stumbled upon this vegetable soup recipe that I thought looked amazing.  I declared myself the Maker of the Dinner that evening and when Uriah asked what I was going to make, I said it was a surprise.

I chopped, I simmered, and I stirred all afternoon and the little Hobbit Hole apartment smelled amazing.  I also made some homemade dinner rolls to augment my culinary soup genius because there is nothing better than proofing dough and punching it down and baking it to a pretty brown crust on the outside and a warm, chewy inside.  Every time Uriah tried to see what I was doing, I would shoo him (9 inches) back into the living room.  Finally, I was ready to serve dinner -at the coffee table, because, remember, the apartment was literally the size of a Hobbit Hole, so there was no room for a dinning table of any sort.  And he's a boy, so he didn't really care that he ate, every night, sitting on the couch.  Anyway, I served up big bowls of steaming soup with pretty green and orange and red vegetables floating in the broth and a big spoonful of pesto right smack in the middle of the bowl and announced with all the glee of a kindergartner at show-and-tell that dinner was ready.

And then I proceeded to disappoint my future husband.

I'll give him credit for telling me that it smelled really good and for trying the soup first.  But after that initial first bite, he asked where the meat was.  There is no meat, I told him.  It's a vegetable soup.  It didn't seem to register and he looked very confused and kept asking, much to my growing annoyance, where the meat part of the meal was.  I learned very quickly that a meal with no meat is really not a meal for Uriah.

Regardless, once he got over his Man Needs Meat mentality, he really seemed to enjoy the soup.  And, of course, warm homemade bread does help soften the meatless blow somewhat.  While you can always buy pesto at the store, I find it's best to make your own.  And it's really easy, too.  I make a bunch in the summer when my basil plants are at their peak of production and then freeze it to use in the winter when buying fresh basil at the store isn't always reliable.  And, if you really do need to add some meat to this meal, a few roasted chicken breasts shredded and added to the broth at the end would be acceptable.

I've made this a few times over the years, and while I know Uriah will eat it, and like it, I learned that it's best to make a meat-less meal and not tell Uriah about it in advance, although inevitably he will tell me all of the ways I could have fit meat into the recipe.

Enjoy!

Soupe au Pistou

(We've shortened it to just Pistou in our house.)

serves 6-8

• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
• 1 onion, finely chopped
• 2 small or 1 large leek, finely sliced
• ½ teaspoon herbs de Provence
• 1 celery sstalk, finely sliced
• 2 carrots, finely diced
• 2 small potatoes, finely diced
• 4 oz. green beans
• 5 cups water
• 2 small zucchini, finely chopped
• 3 medium tomatoes, peeled, seeded and finely chopped
• 2 cup green peas, fresh or frozen
• Handful of spinach leaves, cut into thin ribbons
• Salt and pepper to taste

In a large soup pot, heat the oil.  Add the garlic, onion and leeks and cook, stirring occasionally until the onion is soft.  Add the herbs de Provence and stir to combine.  Add the celery, carrots and cook, covered, for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Add the potatoes, green beans and water, then salt and pepper.  Bring to a boil, skimming any foam that rises to the surface; reduce heat, cover and simmer gently for 10 minutes.  Add the zucchini, tomatoes and peas and simmer for about 25-30 minutes or until the vegetables are tender.  Add the spinach and simmer for another 5 minutes.  Season the soup and serve with a swirl of pesto.

Pesto

(You can use leftover pesto on a grilled ham and cheese sandwich and it is amazing!)

• 4 cloves of garlic
• 1 cup packed fresh basil leaves
• ½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
• ¼ cup toasted pine nuts
• ½ cup extra virgin olive oil

 Pulse garlic, basil Parmesan cheese and pine nuts in a food processor and process until smooth.  Scrape down the sides.  With the machine running, stream in the olive oil and pulse until mixture is pureed.  Stores in your refrigerator for up to a week.  Can be frozen; thaw when ready to use.