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Wintery Cabbage Soup

January 22, 2012

I love cabbage and I attribute that to my Polishness (it’s a common ingredient). We aren’t really known for our cuisine, but there is an element of simplicity in the creation and ingredients, perhaps that’s another reason why I love cabbage soup.

Stews and soups are awesome because it’s doofus-proof. You can’t go wrong with bringing all your favorite ingredients to a boil. I like to throw in some cayenne pepper to heat it up so I defrost myself even more.

It’s January, I’m trying to get fit so a pool of nutrients to eat tickles my fancy. Oddly, I would never share my soups (or recipes) with anyone because I cater them so much to my palate, that I’m not even sure if it’s edible or gross to others.

Anyone ever read Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant? I loved that book. It made me feel better for my weird culinary concoctions I eat alone huddled over the kitchen sink pondering my day’s plan. I know you eat something odd in the privacy of your home.

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3 Comments leave one →
  1. January 30, 2012 3:33 am

    Gosh, I guess I do. I make a lot of mush and it’s different every time. That’s anything from left overs of veg and/or meat, tinned/packaged foods etc.and it is always spicy. My family never touches the stuff, they’ve tried some and sworn off it. So it’s mine – all mine!

  2. January 6, 2014 8:52 am

    Yes, yummy! And always, the tehincque comes to you from your childhood at your Mother’s elbow in the kitchen, while standing on a kitchen chair to see and to reach and to work. I helped her make everything: bread, kibbee, stuffed koosa, bell peppers, grape leaves, cabbage. Always, I see her in my mind as I cook. My husband and I bought our first home when we were 45 moved in during the coldest winter we ever experienced in NW NV, (-17 below zero, three feet of snow on the ground) one morning I got up before daylight, and made Syrian bread to suffuse the house with the smell of fresh bread on a cold day just as my Mother did 40 years before. And Maureen, I felt the hand of my Mother on my shoulder, and saw in my mind’s eye, my grandmothers going back 10,000 years. It is the laying on of hands from mother to daughter thru time. So I love your story of your Aunt Rita. That is how we learn, from all the women who precede us. What a legacy! Sorry to be so wordy, but your writing always evokes so much emotion and so many memories for me. Thank you.

  3. February 18, 2014 6:10 am

    A wonderful job. Super helpful information.

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