For Valentine's Day The Southerner gave me:
- Numerous hugs & kisses of consolation after I burned the soup beyond recognition.
- Then he disposed of said soup, so that I wouldn't have to be sad (it was nine quarts of pretty spendy soup).
- After his nap, he's going to scour the soup pot - no small feat. According to the internet, all you have to do is boil water, vinegar, baking soda, and a tiny bit of soap in the pot for fifteen minutes and the grunge will practically wipe away. After half an hour of boiling, I could barely make a dent in the charred remains. After an hour, The Southerner showed his muscle and scrubbed part of it clean. I have faith he'll be able to get it clean for me after his restorative nap.
- Once he's done that, he's going to go to the store with me and buy ingredients for a new soup.
- And then he's going to help me make it.
Soup is usually very forgiving. You can forget about a lot of soups (except the thick or creamy ones) and it's not likely you'll burn it if you come back relatively soon, but this one tricked me. It called for quinoa (a rice like grain, but way yummier and a lot more dear). I added the quinoa and while a little of it floated, the rest of sunk to the bottom. So while my soup was barely simmering, and I was busy making The Southerner a heart shaped pizza for lunch, it was quietly turning the bottom inch of my soup to coal. Maybe I should've left it on the burner and waited to see if I got diamonds!
Even with disasters, you learn something. Next time a soup calls for quinoa, I will cook it separately and add it later, just like rice. And tonight, I will meet my sweetie pie in the kitchen, and we'll steam up the windows (making a new pot of soup).
Happy Valentine's Day!