Today I am feeling like an incompetent yet aggrieved little graduate student instructor. Shall I condemn myself as a confusing, inadequate teacher because (some of) my little mites report themselves to be deeply confused, or be annoyed because they (or some fraction thereof) are clearly not absorbing the notion that doing their assigned reading is something that involves actual study and contemplation before they come to class? Hard to tell, and while I'm at it, let me scramble under the table and hide from the hideous ill-begotten seminar papers in my own future, not to mention sundry other responsibilities. But at least I made some tasty soup.
When we were in Providence, Beth made this soup for us. I believe it is from a recent issue of Martha Stewart Living. It is not very pretty, looking as it does like library paste, but it tastes very good, and a pot gave all three of us lunch for days. This version was what I could dredge up from my memory; if it's inaccurate, the alteration seems to have done it no harm. The main thing is that it is very, very easy. Very. Startlingly, even. And it is quite cheap for the quantity of food it produces. It is also very good for bearded, bespectacled boys who live in my apartment, as an added bonus, which is not so much of a bonus for anyone who is not us, I suppose. But it would be good for you, too. So have some.
CAULIFLOWER AND FENNEL SOUP
1 cauliflower
1 bulb of fennel
1 medium potato
1 medium onion
7 cups vegetable broth, or 7 cups water and bullion cubes to go along
2 bay leaves
10 whole cloves
pinch nutmeg
1/2 c. milk
shell-less pumpkin seeds, often sold under the name "pepitos"
salt
pepper
a bit of olive oil
Remove the leaves and lower stalk from the cauliflower. Cut what remains into irregular 2" chunks. No need to be fancy. Dump into a large soup pot. Cut the stalks and feathery foliage away from your fennel bulb and save them for some other purpose. Trim off the dirty, woody bottom as well. Cut what remains into chunks and add to the pot. Chop up the potato and onion similarly. Pop the bay leaves and cloves into a wad of cheesecloth or something of that sort, tie up, and throw that into the pot as well. Add broth to pot and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer, partially covered, until everything is very very soft, about 40 minutes.
Remove the spice bundle and then puree the soup by whatever method you prefer. I used my ordinary old blender; Beth has an immersion blender, which worked nicely too, and avoids the issue of transfering hot liquids and dirtying another pot when you need a place to keep the pureed batches while unpureed soup remains in your original soup pot. Get the pureed soup back into that pot and stir in the milk. Add nutmeg, salt, and pepper to taste. When you're ready to eat, heat this mixture up until it is steaming but not boiling. Serve with freshly toasted pumpkin seeds.
So while the soup awaits its final curtain call, you will toast up a handful of pumpkin seeds in a bit of olive oil, with salt. They will get brown and puff up most gratifyingly. You don't need much oil; if you find they seem too greasy, just drain them on a paper towel or brown paper bag for a minute or two before you eat them. I think it's nice to let each person sprinkle their own seeds over the soup at the table.
All of this keeps very well and is even better the next day, as is so often the case with soups. It is excellent with a salad dressed with something vinegary.
When we were in Providence, Beth made this soup for us. I believe it is from a recent issue of Martha Stewart Living. It is not very pretty, looking as it does like library paste, but it tastes very good, and a pot gave all three of us lunch for days. This version was what I could dredge up from my memory; if it's inaccurate, the alteration seems to have done it no harm. The main thing is that it is very, very easy. Very. Startlingly, even. And it is quite cheap for the quantity of food it produces. It is also very good for bearded, bespectacled boys who live in my apartment, as an added bonus, which is not so much of a bonus for anyone who is not us, I suppose. But it would be good for you, too. So have some.
CAULIFLOWER AND FENNEL SOUP
1 cauliflower
1 bulb of fennel
1 medium potato
1 medium onion
7 cups vegetable broth, or 7 cups water and bullion cubes to go along
2 bay leaves
10 whole cloves
pinch nutmeg
1/2 c. milk
shell-less pumpkin seeds, often sold under the name "pepitos"
salt
pepper
a bit of olive oil
Remove the leaves and lower stalk from the cauliflower. Cut what remains into irregular 2" chunks. No need to be fancy. Dump into a large soup pot. Cut the stalks and feathery foliage away from your fennel bulb and save them for some other purpose. Trim off the dirty, woody bottom as well. Cut what remains into chunks and add to the pot. Chop up the potato and onion similarly. Pop the bay leaves and cloves into a wad of cheesecloth or something of that sort, tie up, and throw that into the pot as well. Add broth to pot and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer, partially covered, until everything is very very soft, about 40 minutes.
Remove the spice bundle and then puree the soup by whatever method you prefer. I used my ordinary old blender; Beth has an immersion blender, which worked nicely too, and avoids the issue of transfering hot liquids and dirtying another pot when you need a place to keep the pureed batches while unpureed soup remains in your original soup pot. Get the pureed soup back into that pot and stir in the milk. Add nutmeg, salt, and pepper to taste. When you're ready to eat, heat this mixture up until it is steaming but not boiling. Serve with freshly toasted pumpkin seeds.
So while the soup awaits its final curtain call, you will toast up a handful of pumpkin seeds in a bit of olive oil, with salt. They will get brown and puff up most gratifyingly. You don't need much oil; if you find they seem too greasy, just drain them on a paper towel or brown paper bag for a minute or two before you eat them. I think it's nice to let each person sprinkle their own seeds over the soup at the table.
All of this keeps very well and is even better the next day, as is so often the case with soups. It is excellent with a salad dressed with something vinegary.
The soup looks great -- may make some. Num. Fennel.
As to the students --
I'm pretty cheerful at the moment, having gotten through the papers that came in early, noe of which were stupid, and a couple of which were extremely good.
But maybe I've been doing this too long -- or maybe I'm just mean -- I've become very fond of the students who tank out, cause they make my job so easy.
Don't come to class! Don't read the books! Don't write the papers! No prob!
Makes my life SO much easier, grading Things That Aren't There.
On the other hand, I hate all that time spent finding things on the internet.
Maybe this semester somebody will again pretend to be William Hazlitt -- that's fun.
No WAY anybody would spot that as plagiarism! No siree.
Posted by: Anne | 12/04/2003 at 03:56 PM
People plagiarize in college? Y'know, for all the drinking and carousing and dope-smoking and having of meaningless, anonymous sex, I never stooped to turning in work that wasn't my own. If I turned in work, it was 100% done by me. Not all of it was stellar quality, but at least it was all authentic.
*sigh* In spite of the drinking and carousing and dope-smoking and having of meaningless, anonymous sex, I was pretty damned straight-arrow in college. Still am.
Posted by: teep | 12/05/2003 at 03:08 AM
the only thing you forgot in the soup is one medium white or sweet onion
Posted by: bitsy | 12/06/2003 at 12:07 AM
Thanks!
Yes, I don't much mind when my students simply fail to turn things in; it's when they send me plaintive emails begging for help in the broadest, least initiative-taking way that they get up my nose. But as it happened, that was a low point, and they shaped up gratifyingly in time for the end of the semester.
And oh, yes, the plagiarism (which somehow I always take three or four tries to spell correctly) is always the opposite of a treat. I like it best when they lift huge unacknowledged chunks of some poorly-written paper they found on the Internet and then list it in the bibliography, as if that made it okay.
Posted by: redfox | 12/12/2003 at 02:44 AM