I have long hated cold and rainy days. Cold without rain? I can handle that. Windy Wednesdays? Bring it on. August heat and humidity? Not top on my list, but I can manage.
It has been 42 degrees and drizzling rain for like three years 48 hours now. Soup Husband Curt facilitated a sleep-in for me (thanks, honey!), but I can't ever sleep past 9:30. So I'm up and I'm on my second peppermint latte. There's a fire in the fireplace that we'll keep stoking all day.
You know what days like this make me feel like doing?
No, not that.
I feel like warming the kitchen with my oven and stove. I want the scents of warm soup and bacon and cookies to waft throughoutg my home. I'm thinking about gettin' my Amish on and cooking a bunch of stuff!
But now I face a dilemma. I feel like I do when I get a windfall of cash - all of a sudden, so many choices! What if I choose something that isn't completely satisfying?
After browsing the fridge and pantry, my thoughts are these. First, this day screams for something souplike. I'm thinking chicken pot pie, or chicken noodle soup. Today also begs for the smells of fresh baked goods. I have two jars of molasses in my pantry - that means Grandma Sara's molasses cookies. And I don't think I've blogged them yet on My Grandmas' Recipes, so that can be a little side project. (Plus, those cookies are the Breakfast of Champions!) I also have a turkey breast that's been thawing in my fridge all week - I'll throw that in the oven later... maybe add some stuffing, and I could mash some potatoes.
It's comfort-food-a-rama Chez Soup!
Before I get started, let me tell youshare a little story about weather like this. The year was 1992 and the month was June. My sister was fixing to marry her man in western PA, not far from Johnstown / Altoona. The wedding day weather was lovely, but the day after was a day much like today: 'twas in the 40s and rainy. Soup Boyfriend Curt and I did not pack appropriate clothes because when we left DC, it was sunny and in the low 70s. What made it all the more insulting was that we were just back from a trip to Anguilla, in the British West Indies. We shivered as we filled the car with gas at the Sheetz, and became increasingly gleeful as the temperature climbed and clouds dissipated with each mile approaching DC.
So on days like today, besides craving fires and lattes and being completely overcome by the urge to cook for a crowd, I am reminded of my sister's wedding weekend, and of the fact that Mother Nature operates by her own set of rules.
