Tribeca Yummy Mummy

The Yummies returneth!  And, they came to make a magical noodle soup.

When Mira was six months old, I went over to visit my sister-in-law who lived on the Upper East Side with a very picky little guy, my nephew, who wouldn’t eat anything hardly.  One thing he did love was chicken soup, and my sister-in-law leaned in as he was eating it and gave me this tip: Put the parsley in a cheesecloth sack, and lift it out when the soup is done cooking.  You see, my nephew would not, would NOT eat anything that was the color green.  As long as he did not see green, he would slurp up that soup.

Now, I do not hide things from the yummies.  What we learn, again and again, is the magic of how cooking and putting certain things together can transform something you might find yucky on its own into something totally delish.

Taking my sister-in-law’s technique to the extreme, we prepped the vegetable ingredients for this noodle soup and made a gigantic bag tied with a little kitchen twine.  When the soup was done simmering, we just lifted the whole business out of the pot leaving the broth free of anything but tastiness and noodles.

Several slurps later, the mini-chefs were full.  One girl commented to her friend, “This is reallllly good for you when your mom is sick!”  Ha!  See, now they will be trying it all out on us.

Noodle Soup with a Magic Bag

• 4 medium carrots
• 3 ribs celery
• 2 parsnips
• 1 bunch parsley
• 3 large swiss chard or kale leaves
• 6 cloves garlic
• 1 large onion, chopped coarsely
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 T. olive oil
• salt and pepper to taste
• Optional: a beer or 3/4 c. dry white wine
• a 4-lb organic whole chicken
• One package of rice noodles
• Optional: scallions, chopped to float on top

1. Prep the veggies with a lettuce knife: Cut the carrots, celery and parsnips into large chunks.  Peel the garlic, and cut each clove into three pieces.  Tear or chop the parsley and the swiss chard or kale.  Big Person should cut the onion into large chunks.
2. In a large piece of cheesecloth, place all the veggies in the middle.  Gather the edges to make a big bag, wrap with a length of kitchen twine, and tie a bow.
3. Big Person: Heat the olive oil over low in a wide, heavy-bottomed pot and add the magic bag.
4. Cook, stirring the bag around for about 5-10 minutes.
5. Add the beer or white wine if using and cook for another couple of minutes, allowing the alcohol to burn off.
6. Place the whole chicken into the pan, and add water so that it covers everything by at least an inch.
7. Add salt.
8. Bring to a boil and cook for 5 minutes.  Turn the heat down to a simmer and cook another hour, or until the chicken is cooked all the way through.
9. Remove the chicken to a glass or stainless steel bowl, shred, and use for something else.
10. Remove the magic bag.  Compost.
11. Add the rice noodles and stir.  Cook another 3 minutes.
12. Serve.  Top with scallions if you like.  Enjoy!

Each Saturday morning, with Gazelles and shinguards and her team jersey, Mira and I make our way up the West Side Highway for Mira’s winter soccer league.

Yesterday, we stepped out of our apartment into the first real snow blanket of the winter.  Mira began whooping with joy, and honestly I might have, too, if not for all that gear we had to schlep.  It does take your breath away, the first real snow; it still does.

Away we went, and often ours were the first tracks.  At various points we would see dog footprints, a lone bike, and once, to Mira’s delight, a very, very large sneaker footprint.  Mostly though, it was just us plugging away with the gray Hudson, barely bobbing, calm and quiet, beside us.

About three quarters of the way through our trek, with the icy wind blowing us backwards at times, Mira said, “I wish that it was summer, Mama.”  She had made dozens of snowballs, angels, and big swoops through the snow by then and was getting cold.

We talked, then, about commitment, about devoting yourself to something worth working hard for.  She listened and held on to my mitten.  She nodded, but who can ever tell what is going to sink in?

Once we were at the field and Mira had joined her teammates (indoors, of course), I chatted with some of the parents for a while and got lost in the small talk.  When I looked up, there was Mira.  Utter joy radiated from her face.  Utter concentration radiated from her little body.  She has found something to love and something worth, yes, walking miles through the snow for.

On the way back home, through town this time, we met a happy veggie snow man, and Mira whispered hopefully, “Do you think it will snow again tomorrow?”

Happy New Year!  I have been savoring these last few moments of not teaching before the chaos ensues come February.  Wait, what am I saying?  Before the cooking class chaos ensues, I should say.  We have plenty of every day chaos around here as always.

Happiest Weekend, too!  We’re joining in with Soule Mama for her weekly ritual.