We got our snow, although it was largely melted by mid-afternoon. Then it snowed again, and a little has stuck.
Steve went out for his daily walk all bundled up. While he was out, I made soup, loosely based on Italian Wedding Soup to use up what we had. It was good, and I'll give you an idea how I did it, but not a recipe. I am largely a 'dump cook'; I cook, dumping stuff in until I think it's done. This is probably not a fair assessment of my skill, because I have gotten much better at it as I've racked up more hours at the stove. I even have the bad habit of doing things like making pancakes and tortillas without properly measuring things; ingredients get dumped in the flour sifter or my hand until they look about right. I make great pancakes and tortillas. Maybe that's why building pasta on the island appeals to me as much as it does; you dump flour on the board, stir an egg into it, knead it a little, let it rest a half hour, and then start making pasta. I would say it's a piece of cake, but cake is where I do get out measuring cups and a recipe.
So the soup then: I chopped and then sweated a medium homegrown onion in couple tablespoons of olive oil with a couple pinches of red pepper flakes. Instead of doing the whole meatball thing, I browned little tiny meatballs of sausage, about a quarter pound. Since I couldn't actually roll meatballs with my bandaged up left hand, I used a melon baller, employing an old German trick; I wet the melon baller first, and the sausage didn't stick to it. After that was browned, I added two minced garlic cloves, which I only cooked a little, and then dumped in chicken stock, about a quart. To that I added a frozen package of homegrown Swiss chard. Then I left the whole thing to simmer.
To serve it, I put a slice of the garlic bread in a bowl, ladled the soup on top, and sprinkled a little more Romano on it.
I'll make this one again, as long as all the kitchen stars line up and I have all the ingredients together again at the same time. Which is probable.
Today, Friday, has dawned absolutely clear and cold; it's really beautiful out. I'm going to send Steve up the hill with the camera for his walk and see if we can get a nice picture of Mt. Hood for you. I hope so; it's beautiful where I live. Every time I feel down for not living in the country I have to remind myself that I'm still supremely lucky to live where I do.