Before swanning off to glamorous Birmingham yesterday, Neal and I went for a fried breakfast, bought kitchenware, then spent the afternoon making lovely soups with the huge pile of veg which had built up over the weeks (I have a weekly deliver of locally grown organic veg, which will annoy Cynical Ben no end, I suspect, because it's so bourgeois).
The soups we made were Green and Orange. Green consisted of 8 leeks, cabbage, garlic, bay leaves and potato to thicken. Orange was carrots, smoked chilli, roasted peppers, garlic and various seasonings.
Both were sensational - wintery, complex, satisfying. Perfect consumed with brown buttered toast and spilled over several sections of a big Saturday newspaper, perused at leisure.
3 comments:
There is about a foot of snow outside, I need soup today.
Why on earth would a locally grown vegetable delivery annoy me?
But brown toast? What is the point? You may as well toast a shoe.
Because you so often pose as the enemy of the bourgeoisie!
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