12.28.2003
Beef soup recipe
Place a pound of beef bones in a large pot with far too much water, half an onion, a bay leaf, and six cloves of garlic. Boil vigorously for two hours. Pat yourself on the back for cooking from scratch and drink a few glasses of cheap red wine.
Taste the broth. It will have no flavor and will leave an unpleasant coating on your tongue. Glug some wine in the pot and add a lot of salt. Throw in some vegetables and a bunch of spices randomly culled from the pantry. Simmer for an hour.
Taste the broth again. It should taste like salty greasewater. Wonder aloud why you even fucking bother, Jesus Christ, any moron with just a brainstem could make soup....Trail off when you notice your friends watching your outburst with identical carefully blank expressions. Feel very silly.
Liberally pour in more wine and salt and whatever fresh herbs you have on hand. The broth will taste no better after 30 minutes. Get the bright idea to consult a cookbook. It will tell you that you need six times the amount of bones you used and should really have strained off all the fat and debris before you added two pounds of fresh vegetables. Sigh dramatically and throw in some beef bouillon cubes, which you should have done in the first place.
It will be about eleven p.m. by the time it's edible. You will not be hungry anymore. Garnish your creation with some freshly baked bread and ingest.
Leftovers
Take the soup out of the refrigerator and pick off the largest and most offensive clots of solidified fat with a pair of tongs. Decide you don't really want some right now, but who knows, you might later. Willfully ignore the enormous soup tureen taking up an entire shelf in the fridge for five days or until all the other food starts to take on a strange oniony odor. Quietly pour the remaining soup out in a dark corner of the backyard. Go out for puffy tacos.
Place a pound of beef bones in a large pot with far too much water, half an onion, a bay leaf, and six cloves of garlic. Boil vigorously for two hours. Pat yourself on the back for cooking from scratch and drink a few glasses of cheap red wine.
Taste the broth. It will have no flavor and will leave an unpleasant coating on your tongue. Glug some wine in the pot and add a lot of salt. Throw in some vegetables and a bunch of spices randomly culled from the pantry. Simmer for an hour.
Taste the broth again. It should taste like salty greasewater. Wonder aloud why you even fucking bother, Jesus Christ, any moron with just a brainstem could make soup....Trail off when you notice your friends watching your outburst with identical carefully blank expressions. Feel very silly.
Liberally pour in more wine and salt and whatever fresh herbs you have on hand. The broth will taste no better after 30 minutes. Get the bright idea to consult a cookbook. It will tell you that you need six times the amount of bones you used and should really have strained off all the fat and debris before you added two pounds of fresh vegetables. Sigh dramatically and throw in some beef bouillon cubes, which you should have done in the first place.
It will be about eleven p.m. by the time it's edible. You will not be hungry anymore. Garnish your creation with some freshly baked bread and ingest.
Leftovers
Take the soup out of the refrigerator and pick off the largest and most offensive clots of solidified fat with a pair of tongs. Decide you don't really want some right now, but who knows, you might later. Willfully ignore the enormous soup tureen taking up an entire shelf in the fridge for five days or until all the other food starts to take on a strange oniony odor. Quietly pour the remaining soup out in a dark corner of the backyard. Go out for puffy tacos.
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