Mother Nature is having fun with us: it was 80 degrees yesterday, 50-something today. Who knows what tomorrow might bring? (Needless to say, I'm not even looking at what the meteorologists think will happen anymore.)
But today, it wasn't so bad, because I was ready for it. Early on, I realized that I had botched part of a knitting project--luckily, a very small part--and I realized something else.
Discovering that you've botched something in your knitting is a very different kind of feeling if you also know you're spending the day cooking an amazing soup and reclining with kitty cats in front of the fireplace because it's 50 degrees and dreary and drizzling. (Especially if you've already been super-virtuous and swam a mile.)
I decided to try a couple of new recipes this week, and one of them is this one, for Roasted Garlic Chicken Soup. If the smell is any indication of what awaits me in a few minutes, ye gods, I'm in heaven.
But I kind of knew that already actually, because I got up nice and early this morning (my cats feel that 7:00 a.m. is a totally appropriate time because if I sleep any later than that, they begin to miss me too much), and roasted some garlic.
So, by 8:30 a.m., my house already smelled like roasted garlic.
In heaven, there will be areas that smell like cinnamon and apples, and areas that smell like roasted garlic. That's just a given.
This soup can be made with leftovers, but I didn't have any, so I just seized the day by the... horns?... and poached a couple of chicken legs. That way, I could use the leftover bones to make the chicken broth too. On a rainy day, having chicken bones and herbs simmering on the stove for hours and hours isn't a bad thing, certainly.
Because I didn't read the directions carefully, I didn't realize the farro was supposed to be cooked before putting it into the soup, but that doesn't faze me a bit, because I'm a cook-it-all-together girl when it comes to soup anyway. And I had more than 6 cups of broth, so... it all works out. The farro will cook in the soup itself, and by the time I'm ready to serve it, it'll be fine.
Oh so fine. This soup is the kind of thing that, if someone you love is sick and you cook it for them, they won't be able to help but feel better. And they will love you forever.
If they don't, it just means that they aren't actually capable of love, and you shouldn't take it at all personally. You'll be fine. You know how to make the soup.