The Green Eyed Monster Soup

I've been thinking a lot about envy lately. My skin has been crawling with it. I'm not talking about the sidelong glance you give you barista's cute haircut while you think "God. I could never pull that off. No cheeks.. Unruly eyebrows.." I'm not dealing with Cosmo-induced social comparison envy. I'm unpacking my creativity envy. It's a big piece of baggage. The kind you put on the special belt at the airport.

You see, I surround myself with people who ooze creativity. They write and paint and think and live with a voice. The type of voice you can pick out of a crowd (make that a mob... an angry mob). You see them and you know they have colorful souls. Their vibrancy brightens up my everyday. The problem? Sometimes their color makes me feel dull. Overcast with a chance of gray. I'm not the 'writer' or the 'artist' or the 'musician'. I'm the one who likes to read, but struggles to write. The one who likes classic rock, but can barely play the first few notes of "Stand By Me" on my guitar. The one who ___, but ___. Promising, but unbearably plain. Like hospital cafeteria soup. It smells lovely, but as soon as glides over your tongue the wonderful smell is deadened by a flavor of tap water and canned carrots.

I walked around all last week feeling like a big batch of watery soup. While wallowing in my soupy self-pity, I made soup (go figure). But this soup wasn't dull. It was spicy. It was creamy. It had a voice. Could it have been my voice bubbling up through the quiet undertone of cayenne and crisp note of lemon?

You will have to make this soup for yourself and listen for my voice. I hope you can hear it.

This soup recipe will make other soups envious. The once mighty tomato cheddar’s creamy attitude will quiver. The smug chicken noodle will shed extra salty tears. But this soup won’t brag about its beauty. It’s far too humble to boast. Instead, it will give Tomato Cheddar a hug and tell them they are lovely just the way they are. It will wink at Chicken Noodle, and maybe even bake them some chocolate chip cookies.

This soup really is a sweetie. It is very simple, and easy to adapt to your pantry (or, if you are a college student like me, your makeshift food shelf made out of particle board). The ingredient list isn't miles long. You won’t end up halfway through cooking this soup, just to realize you don’t have the jewel-encrusted peppercorns and ancient plum paste to finish it off. The ingredients can change with the seasons--both Mother Earth's and your own. Feeling particularly carnivorous today? Throw some ham into the mix! A vegan afternoon? Forget the milk!

You can serve this any way you please. This soup isn't picky. It wants you to relax and enjoy your meal. It won’t judge you for licking that splatter of soup off your forearm. It will make you breathe deeply and be thankful for your taste buds.

Spicy broccoli and spinach soup

Adapted from Joy the Baker

[Will serve about 2 people a heapin’ helpin’]

A splash of olive oil

½ of an onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, chopped/mashed/or otherwise squished

Bunch-a broccoli cut into small florets (about 2 cups)

1 tsp cumin

¼ tsp cayenne (if you’re especially fiery today, feel free to ratchet up this measurement)

1 ½ cups of your favorite stock, or water

1 ½ - 2 cups spinach (or arugala, or kale, or even that bag of organic spring mix sitting at the bottom of your crisper…)

1/3 cup milk (I used 2%)

Fresh squeeze of lemon

Salt n’ pepper to taste

Sauté the onion over medium heat until translucent (I happened to get some turnips and snap peas in my CSA box this week, so I threw them in the pan at this step). Add the garlic, and swirl the contents of the pan around for about 2 minutes, or until fragrant. Toss in the broccoli and cook until it is a bright beautiful green, about 5-7 minutes.

Season with cumin and cayenne (or whatever spices you please) and add broth to the pan. Cover and reduce heat. Simmer until broccoli is tender and irresistible. Kill the burner.

Here is the fun part—we are going to blend this soup into submission. Add about half of the soup to a blender. Throw in about half of the spinach half of the milk. Blend until smooth. Repeat with remaining soup, spinach and milk.

Throw the soup back over low heat, and if you think it needs more spice lovin', go for it. Squeeze some fresh lemon juice over the pot just before serving (and if you're me, fish out the seeds that squirted into the pot).

Serve as is, or with a dollop of sour cream.

Contentedly gobble your green soup.

She Don't Use Jelly

I woke up this morning with a bulbous callous on my finger. That's my rock star callous. You know, 'cuz I can play "I Love Rock n' Roll" AND "Day Tripper" on my American Freedom guitar. Like I said: Rock Star. I never wanted to be a rock-star when I was a little one. I wanted to dance with the rock stars. I always danced around my living room to The Beatles pretending I was one of their back-up dancers. They didn't have back-up dancers you say? That's because they never got the chance to see my dance to "Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da." It is a lyrical synthesis of fluttering jumps and a lot of stomp stomp stomp. It would have blown their minds.

But, alas, I was never discovered by The Beatles. I am doing research in Pennsylvania, instead of rocking out in Los Angeles. But don't get me wrong. We have made transformed our house into a high-rise apartment. A high-rise apartment with people who play guitar and paint and drink wine and make steak dinners and bake peanut butter cookies. When I woke up this morning, the floor was littered with our guitars. An empty bottle of wine next to my house-mate's copy of Survivor on the coffee table. If I close my eyes, I can imagine the local traffic bustling twelve stories down (rather than our humble 2 stories). I have never felt so at home in Pennsylvania. I am surrounded by people who love to create. People who love to read. People who love to write. People who love to laugh. And of course, people who love to eat cookies.

Must I wax on about peanut butter cookies? They are peanut-buttery bundles of tasty. You know this. And these are all kinds of simple. I mean, 4-ingredient simple. And this recipe contains no flour. A bonus for you gluten-free lovers out there. Caution: You will need a drink within reach when you enjoy these cookies. My partner preferred milk. My housemate preferred wine straight from the bottle. Your choice.

Gluten Free PB Cookies

Adapted from my brain

Makes about 20 cookies

1 cup of your favorite peanut butter

3/4 cup white sugar

1 tsp baking powder

1 large egg

Set your oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment (or if your lazy, like me, skip this step).

In your favorite mixing bowl, throw in the peanut butter and sugar. Blend together by hand, no electricity necessary. Mix in the baking powder and egg until well incorporated.

Roll about a tablespoon worth into a ball. Plop onto sheet. Repeat with the rest of your dough (it may be slightly crumbly, don't be alarmed. Just keep rollin'. The heat from your hand will help it bind together).

Here is where you can get creative. You can mark them with the good ol' fashioned tine marks. You can stick a hunk of chocolate in them. I marked some of mine with a thumb print of strawberry jam. Highly recommended. Just make sure you press them down a bit, as they don't flatten much in the oven.

Bake for 10 minutes. Let them rest for about 5 minutes on your baking sheet, and then cool them on a baking rack. Eat while learning "I Love Rock n' Roll" with your house mate.

P.S.: This photo is not mine, as my camera is currently dead. I took this photo from Google images. I know. Shame on me. The photos are the best part of food blogs. I promise I will post photos once I find my camera charger.