A few years
ago, when I was probably 13 or so, a weird set of circumstances led me to be
put in charge of supervising Christmas Eve dinner. The rest of the family was
out of the house, attending church, and I was coming back from a volunteering
event too late to make the service. So I was tasked with watching over the
minestrone that was simmering on the stove. I was probably supposed to do other
things as well, but I don’t remember. Watching the soup was the most important
because my Mom was nervous the house might burn down. Usually when parents tell
their children not to burn down the house they’re being facetious. And I want
to make it perfectly clear before you continue reading that I in no way burned
down the house. Note that the previous sentence doesn’t say that I in no way
burned anything. Yes, I burned the soup.
 |
| Pasta purists...get out. |
It takes a
very special kind of person to even have the ability to burn soup. To be fair,
minestrone is more on the stew edge of the spectrum than straight up soup. It’s
got lots of chunky bits and even some pasta. The base is made from tomato puree
and water, so it’s kind of like tomato soup 2.0. But still, it’s soup, and I
burned it, effectively ruining Christmas Eve dinner.
I don’t remember exactly what
happened. Mom had written me what I’m sure was a very clear and slightly
condescending Post-It note of instructions. I think I was supposed to leave the
pot simmering and then at some point turn up the heat and maybe add something or
stir it. I honestly have no idea. After the family returned, I do have vivid
memories of standing over the stove as my Mom stirred up blackened chunks from
the bottom of a deep pot and looked at me with rage and a vague glimmer of
astonishment (as I said, it takes a very special person…) And of course, I
remember crying and apologizing to everyone a lot. I know that we were having
soup and sandwiches for dinner. I had not managed to ruin the sandwiches, so I
guess we just ate those. I think I made Mom clean up the charred mess, but she
might’ve banished me from the kitchen at that point.
Pretty much ever since then, whenever
I talk about cooking, someone in the family brings up this incident. Mom still
tells people that I can burn water. It’s not really that upsetting. Let’s be
honest, I completely deserve it. And as a positive, I do always win the
“Kitchen Horror Stories Game” at parties. I’m not that surprised by
people’s hesitations when I tell them I have a cooking blog. But hey, it’s a
learning process. And now I know that it is possible to burn soup and people
get mad at you when you do it.
So this Christmas Eve, I am
determined to stop being “Miranda, Soup Burner” to “Miranda, Soup Guru”
(admittedly, still a terrible super hero name. Maybe she can be a “soup”-er
hero, hahahahhahahahaahaha, I'll stop). I volunteered to make minestrone to complement my
Mom’s tamale casserole, a recipe of her own invention that involves all of the
normal tamale ingredients but without the incredibly tedious process of wrapping
it all in cornhusks. We also whipped up some grilled cheese sandwiches because
no dinner is complete without those. And this soup was not burned! It did get
really hot from the Dutch oven, and possibly would’ve burned if we hadn’t taken
it off the stove exactly when we did. But it was un-charred and absolutely
delicious.
My Christmas present to myself is not to cook anything! Happy Holidays!
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