Soup is Super and Supper

One of the reasons for relative good health I’ve enjoyed I believe can be credited to homemade soup. Especially during the cooler months, there is always soup of some variety either on the stove or in the refrigerator once the quantity gets down to the size that makes keeping it on the back porch no longer necessary (my soup pot is about 12 quarts). Soup is good and generally good for you and can be made from most anything edible. Some of my better ones can never be repeated because the ingredients were whatever happened to be left over.

I usually make soup for a monthly staff meeting at church where I volunteer as growth group coordinator. Most times, the soup gets an appreciative response or at least a “Thank you”. This last month however was obviously a winner when a request was made for the recipe. Hesitantly, I share the recipe for “Killer Split-pea and Ham”. I say hesitantly because sharing recipes especially when the measurements are less than exact, can cause strained relationships. There was an old Ann Landers column that highlighted the problem with a poem.  It began:

            I didn’t have potatoes

            So I used a cup of rice.

            I didn’t have paprika,

            So I used some other spice.

There was more. But you get the idea. The recipe follower was angry that the dish they had hoped to recreate was nothing like the original and accused the recipe giver of being dishonest about the ingredients.

In any event this is one of my favorites:

            Ingredients:

            1 meaty ham bone

            2 one pound bags split peas

`           1 large onion diced

            Several cloves of garlic (never have felt the need to hold back here)

            (secret ingredient alert) Half a rutabaga peeled and diced

            Salt 1-1/2 tablespoon and Pepper 1 teaspoon

            Water enough to cover all ingredients and nearly fill a 12 qt. pot.

Bring the whole mess to a boil and reduce to simmer. After about an hour pull out the ham bone and set aside to trim off the meat when cooled. Allow the rest to simmer until all ingredients are well softened. Use an immersion blender to puree all the stuff in the pot. (If you do not have an immersion blender, this is reason enough to get one.) Chop the trimmed off meat and add to the pot bringing it all back to the boiling point. Adjust salt and pepper. (Do they make non-adjustable salt and pepper?)

Like I said, this was good enough for a recipe request. Hopefully you have a good time with it. That brings me to another issue. A fellow teacher and I lunched together most of the years I was teaching, and lunch usually included soup. We made up a term that we used to judge a soup characteristic called the flatulegentic scale. On a scale of 1 to 10 we guessed the likelihood that the soup in question would cause flatulence in the partaker. A soup with a rating of 1 meant that virtually no one would know you had it. A soup with a rating of 10 probably meant our wives would ask us to sleep on the couch. Although it is hardly scientific, I would rate the above around an 8. Forewarned is forearmed.

Granddad's Truck, Part 2

Earlier this year, I wrote about the Model A truck that my grandfather used in some of my fondest memories. Somehow many of the adventures became more "interesting" as a result of Granddad trying to adapt his truck for chores that he had once done with horse drawn equipment. Ah, the joy of new technology.

One of the chores that was a primary endeavor during the summer was the mowing, raking and gathering of hay for the cows and getting that winter sustenance into the hay mow of the barn. One of the improvements Granddad made to his truck was a series of wooden racks and extensions that allowed for a substantial increase in the amount of hay that could be hauled in a single trip. Much of the hay was mowed by hand with a scythe and once raked and dried got loaded into the truck with pitch forks then hauled to the barn.

Within sight of our home, Granddad had mowed a field and in the process uncovered a nest of yellow jackets. He swore vengeance for the several stings he endured and plotted a plan for the small plot of hay that had to be left unmown. When he returned the following day to gather the hay and filled his truck with a pile of hay that dwarfed the truck, he threw a couple fork fulls of hay on the yellow jacket nest and set it ablaze. The satisfaction of giving those little demons what they deserved was quickly turned to panic when he realized that the fire had jumped to the load on the truck.

Mercifully, the truck started easily for a change and Granddad headed for home at a speed rarely achieved in that little old Model A. What an exciting display for a ten year old who just happened to be doing whatever ten year olds did during the summer months. I watched in amazement as the load of burning hay accelerated toward home; disappearing as a ball of flame as it crested the hill and went out of sight. Fortunately the fuel tank on Model A's are in front of the firewall. Had it been in the rear somewhere, I fear that would have been the last memory of Granddad I would have had.

My grandmother had done laundry that day and it was fortuitous that she had not yet emptied the rinse tubs. She responded to Granddad's plea, "Hey Ma, Bring water." The two of them carried buckets of water and managed to extinguish the fire which had spread to the tar paper like roof of the truck. The wooden racks were pretty much gone. The tiny rear window had broken out from the heat and the handle of Granddad's "favorite" pitch fork had been lost. But the little old truck survived to provide additional aggravation. After that incident, whenever the truck acted up, Granddad could be depended upon to say, "...should have pulled the damn thing off in the field and let her burn."

A Real Turn Off

One of the down sides of woodworking is the often noisy environment in which it occurs. It is inevitable that all that noise, especially without hearing protection, will result in an accelerated loss of hearing. Those of you who know me are no doubt aware of the hearing loss with which I operate. When I consider the difficulties others endure, mine is a rather minor handicap. Never the less, in my belief that all things happen for a reason, I've come to acknowledge that not hearing as well as I once did must have some part in a greater plan than mine.

One of the things that has changed, due in no small part because of hearing loss, is the amount of time I spend in front of the TV. I fear one vice has simply substituted for another in that my laptop (can you say facebook?) takes up an inordinate amount of my time these days. All in all, I believe it has been a great trade off. Even though closed caption might provide some compensation for not being able to hear what someone might be saying, I have come to believe that, for the most part, what they are saying doesn't amount to much and I began appreciate words from people I really know and  care about.

Getting out from in front of the tube (guess there really aren't any tubes in there any more) is something I can, at this point, truly recommend. I can read three news stories in the time it takes a talking head to tell me one, with the advantage of deciding for myself whether the story is truly newsworthy. And although, it's no substitute for a genuine face to face visit, posts from friends on facebook have taken the place of the impersonal clap trap some stranger on TV has to offer. 

Don't misunderstand. I am as discouraged as the next one about the crazy state of affairs in this world. But the guarantee that Jesus gave that, "In this world you will have trouble" accounts for all that craziness. Time away from the TV has given me contemplation opportunities and the will to face tomorrow because again in His words, "but be of good cheer. I have overcome the world." 

Thanks for taking the time to read my ramblings and make a comment or reaction. That beats anything that might happen on TV.