In my defense, it's not the ordinary kind of paper clip - oh, no. It's a fancy-schmancy Klix, which claims to be "beyond paper clips." Certainly it was beyond me, and I ended up tearing those few pages I actually managed to get a Klix onto as soon as I tried to remove it, which completely defeats the purpose (which was to keep the pages nice and neat instead of folding them down to mark a spot).
Given this sort of competence with a simple everyday task, this might not have been the very best day to start a new cooking adventure with my sister, who is getting settled into new digs and is looking for ways to make weeknight dinners easier given a busy schedule. I have a binder (several whole entire large binders, in fact) full of quick, easy, healthy weeknight dinners made from actual ingredients, complete with shopping list and do-ahead tips, so I offered to help. (This is actually a nice idea that she and I came up with. My sister and I get to spend time together, our kids get to spend time together, she gets some new recipes and cooking tips, I get to cook foods that are off-limits in my own house, our uncle gets healthy home-cooked meals, and weeknights are less stressful. What's not to love?)
We were only slightly derailed by the discovery that there was only one knife in the house; with a little re-arranging and a lot of rewashing, we still managed to get a heck of a lot of prep work done. The real problem was the can opener.
I've certainly gotten in the habit of cooking from ingredients but I still should be able to operate a can opener, right? Nope. The paper clip thing wasn't an aggravation, it was a sign - stay away from anything that resembles a tool, because you're going to look stupid when you can't use it. Turns out that canned tomatoes aren't that much of a time-saver when three college-educated adults (including The Resident Engineer) can't open the can, and you realize all over again that there's just no substitute for a can opener no matter what those survivalist websites say.
Suffice to say that this soup with tolerate whatever you do to it and however much you ignore it, it will still turn out very tasty and make your uncle happy. I've left all the can-opener shenanigans out of the instructions, but feel free to use your imagination.
Vegetable Soup
Large splash of olive oil
1 large onion, diced
1 large carrot, peeled and diced
1/2 cup minced ham (in theory, this is optional)
4-5 cups assorted vegetables, diced if needed. I used a large potato, a handful of peas, some corn, and a couple of stalks of celery. You can use whatever you have laying around the house or cluttering up the fridge.)
6 cups chicken stock
Handful of fresh parsley
1 can diced tomatoes, or the equivalent amount of fresh tomatoes seeded and chopped
Heat the oil in a large pot or casserole dish over medium heat. Add the onion and carrot and cook, stirring occasionally, about 5 minutes or until the onion softens. Add the ham and cook another 3 minutes.
Add the rest of the ingredients, seasoning with salt and pepper to taste. Turn the heat to medium-low and ignore on a back burner of the stove while you do something else for at least 30 minutes or until the vegetables are very soft but not mushy.
This soup is fantastic with a drizzle of olive oil and a grating of Parmesan cheese just before serving. It freezes well, keeps nicely in the fridge until you're sick of eating it, scales up to feed a crowd, and gives you a way to use up that leftover potato or random bits of veggies in the fridge.
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