Don’t cry over spilled soup.
I’ve been down with a killer sinus infection since last week. Yesterday, after a day resting at home, I decided to make from-scratch cream of mushroom soup. I’d made this recipe several times before, and it sounded like just the thing for my yucky throat. Sadly, it was not to be.
First, the mushrooms refused to puree, either in the Magic Bullet or my small food processor. So I pureed them directly in the pot with an immersible blender. Feeling a little gleeful at my mastery of the mushrooms, I finally looked up to discover that mushroom debris had splashed over the entire kitchen (which I had just cleaned earlier after baking cookies for Christmas presents). Everything in sight had been affected, including the walls (as far afield as the living room) and my Nativity creche. Grumbling, I grabbed a bunch of wet paper towels and wiped everything off.
By the time I finished, it was time to add cream and broth and bring to a boil. Great! I dumped everything into the pot, added the lid, and left the room for a few minutes. I returned to find the pot boiling over and soup gushing out in waves, covering the whole stovetop and part of the countertop. In disbelief, I got more paper towels and threw them onto the stove (one of them actually caught fire, but was quickly extinguished by the spilled soup). Once the area was dry, I turned the burner back on and continued cooking the soup. I added cornstarch at the end and stirred well for a few minutes. I poured the finished soup into a mug and retreated to the couch to enjoy the fruits of my kitchen disaster.
It tasted kind of funny. Then I got a spoonful of cornstarch. Twice in a row.
So I shouted “THAT’S IT, I’m done with this” and dumped everything down the drain.
And that is why I had a roast beef and Laughing Cow cheese sandwich for dinner last night.
About Brenda W.Christian. Memphian. Reader. Writer. True blue Tiger fan. Lover of shoes, the ocean, adventure, and McAlister's iced tea. View all posts by Brenda W. →
Posted in domestic