On Sunday I spent a good part of my day wandering around the house taking pictures of things. I also was working on a soup for the return of Mr. Ass and his parents. On Saturday I turned the left over chickens into stock, which on Sunday I worked into a pretty good soup.
This is Pipo. I will admit that I have some longstanding issues with the Jack Russell breed. Or I thought I did. But these issues were entirely tempered by Pipo and Yma. This, in spite of the fact that the whole family had prepared me for some epic growling and dog fights based on everything from a mail man to positioning in the bed. I was certainly conscious of these possible triggers and did a was generally vigilant in my avoidance of them, but, still, I liked these two.
Here is the soup. It had the fresh stock as its base. I added a few cloves of garlic, chopped cilantro, salt, carrots and noodles. And maybe, like, four other things. Oh yes, the juice of one lemon. Simmered it for a long time then added the chicken. I really do love making chicken soup. Maybe because it seems like you can never go wrong. As long as you have a good base and moist, fresh meat, you can add anything to it and the chances of it turning out well, assuming you have good common taste sense, must be well in the 90th percentile. Mr. Ass and his father both, independently of one another, commented on how this would be a great soup if they had a cold. I would like to make chicken soup from scratch for someone with a cold. It would be cooking with a purpose. I think I like cooking best when it takes all day and it is the only thing I have to do.