Another Sunday, another soup, only this time it’s a soup that manages to be at least 30% kale but reads more like a bowl of adult spaghettios.
When you want a sausage and mushroom pizza for dinner but also pasta and you also need a shot of vodka you end up with this and that is okay.
Maybe the single-most sophisticated sounding thing you can do today is tell someone — your mom, your Instagram followers, the dude in the cheese section at the grocery store — that you're making real bolognese later. But what makes a bolognese "real" vs. gives someone's grandmother a reason to come back from the dead and kill you? I read all the internet comments, so you don't have to!
Yet another sauce that looks a lot longer and more complicated in theory than it is practice. Short of dumping in a bunch of stuff and abandoning it, sauce doesn't really get much easier — and it definitely tastes like something you'd happily pay $17+ for in a place that isn't your kitchen.
I recently heard rapini described as "bitter and inaccessible", so it figures that this dish is native to my bloodline. This is allegedly a traditional dish of Bari in the Puglia region, where my grandmother was from and where orecchiette originally hails. If you relate to this description, then get ready to meet your new favorite late-winter early-spring green.
like all things responsible, dependable, and sturdy, this stew will never win a beauty contest. however, it is a great choice for a sad, rainy monday when still you need to make lunches for the week so you don't lose a bet to your coworkers, and a great way to use the weird wine vinegars you aspirationally bought the other month and still haven't opened.
TFW a giant heat wave throws a big fat hot wrench into all of your september soup aspirations. oh, wait, that's just me with that feeling, alone, in fucking los angeles.
nothing says "spring forward" like endless gray skies, raging humidity, and a total lack of inspiration to live. but I guess at least asparagus is in season?
"just bring your presence," my mom requests, which resulted in a home cooked birthday dinner. (then I asked her to pay for the soup ingredients.)