After a dismal failure with soup yesterday I am ready for a success in the kitchen today. I was thumbing through cookbooks looking for inspiration, and stumbled on a quotation that looked like a sign!
“All sorrows are less with bread.” Miguel de Cervantes, (1547-1616)
Signs are all fine and well, but the recipe accompanying the quote was clearly not meant to be replicated by a person in a smallish ranch house with a used Sears oven. I read all the directions (this time) and discovered that this bread would require 16 hours of preproofing, which is way too high maintenance for me. In 16 hours I could produce a gourmet meal for eight of my favorite people with naptime built in. I could probably even clean yesterday’s crockpot. So I decided on a recipe I’ve had for a long time and tend to forget because it exists only on a worn little scrap of paper I’ve saved from college.
When I was a sophomore, a friend’s older sister invited a group of female friends to her midtown apartment for a dinner party. She had to be at least 24 years old and seemed so mature to an 18-year-old dorm dweller. Her apartment had candles and flowers and a beautifully set table for 6. I still remember that we had cold cucumber soup and Irish soda bread. Now, a million years later, I can admit that the soup, which contained a can of Campbell’s cream of something and cucumbers, was possibly one of the 10 worst things I’ve ever eaten, but that bread was marvelous. She served it warm with real butter, at a time when margarine was still the prom queen of any table. After dinner we had sherry. Sherry! I knew immediately that I must begin the pursuit of such elegance in my own life and it must start with the bread. I begged for the recipe, which she willingly gave me, throwing in the soup recipe as well.
Wouldn’t you be mad if that soup is the recipe today? I wouldn’t do that, I’m much more elegant now, and I’m never mean in the kitchen. Enjoy!
