This evening we made Chicken with White and Wild Rice Soup, which, to be overly picky, should really be called Chicken Soup with White and Wild Rice. The soup is fairly simple; onions, garlic, celery and carrots are all sautéed in olive oil with salt and pepper, thyme and a bay leaf. Five minutes later the chicken stock is added, then when the pot comes to a simmer the chicken is added. The soup simmers for ten minutes, with parsley, dill, lemon juice and hot sauce added just before serving. Meanwhile, the rice is cooked according to instructions, spooned into a bowl, with the soup spooned on top.
This soup is not the worst in the world; it would be served at a reasonably decent canteen. It certainly tastes institutional, but it is not offensive by any means. The dill and lemon seemed like ingredients more suited to fish than chicken, but actually they merged with the other flavours pretty well. Having the rice in the bottom of the bowl rather than added to the soup seemed a little odd but it worked fine. I could imagine using one of those cook for 90 seconds in the microwave packets of rice to add a little substance to an otherwise light soup. The main drawback to this meal, aside from the fact that soup on a hot July day is just wrong, is the chicken. L and I are beginning to develop a serious aversion to the white meat. By the end of the year we may well have to swear off the bird for good. We both left little piles of meat in the bottom of the bowl, not even the cats like cooked chicken anymore.
In other news, today I found out that a good friend of ours delivered her own baby in the car on the way to the hospital. That blows my mind. She is an urban myth in her own right. I am so impressed/ terrified on her behalf. I can’t wait to hear the details. Aside from spending all day sporadically saying “she had the baby in the car” and trying not to swear, we spent a most pleasant afternoon with some new friends we found in Starbucks. One day a very long time ago, before Baby A was mobile, we were having coffee and noticed a cute little girl around the same size. We chatted with The Mum and found out the girls were 6 days apart in age. We swapped numbers but never managed to get together. Fast forward a year or so and we bumped into the family in the park, now with a newborn addition. This time we did make a date and it was a lot of fun. The girls were sort of skirting around each other and Baby A completely freaked when L or I held the baby, but a good time was had by all. Hopefully we can make regular plans; it’s nice to have friends with kids but not have that be the only thing that you have in common. Very refreshing.
Tomorrow we will be cooking Venetian Calamari with Spicy Sauce and Egg Fettucine, which sounds pretty grim, in my humble opinion. L likes calamari though, so maybe he’ll enjoy it. We are officially on the home stretch of this project, which is reassuring in a way. Although, now we come to think of it, what on earth are we going to cook when we can do whatever we want again?