Nonetheless, I have my moments of frustration and annoyance at the never ending neediness of children and the noise and clutter that comes with life. My need for silence is more often than not left unmet. But it's okay. I embrace the crazy, hectic whirlwind that is the now. When I am able to be in the moment, all is good.
I am in love. Pure and perfect.
But why am I rambling? This post is about soup. And comfort, for anyone who needs it.
I saved our Thanksgiving turkey carcass in the freezer for just this occasion. If a turkey had to die for us, we may as well celebrate his or her life, by making broth with his or her bones. It's a stretch, I realize this. The guilt that comes with carnivorism is deep within me. I'm working on it, Amy Ray. Stop judging.
Along with the turkey bones, I added celery, carrots, one red onion, three cloves of garlic, several sprigs of dried thyme, one sprig of dried rosemary, one bay leaf, and a few peppercorns. Simmer for 4-6 hours.
I stored the broth in the fridge overnight. This allowed the fat to solidify and rise to the surface for easy removal.
I don't usually like cooked celery in soup, but Laura does, so I decided to include it this time for a genuine mirepoix. Because I am selfless. Also, I like to say mirepoix.
|Also, it's very visually pleasing. I'm doing it for you, blog readers. For you, and for Laura.|
|Look at that celery, so cozy with its carrot and onion neighbors.|
A real chef would have made noodles from scratch. But I have children, limited time, and lot of noise, so I opted for these.
I like the horse and carriage design. Also, the words "homestyle", "old-fashioned", and "naturally" make me feel like some Amish person made these noodles just yesterday, just for us. Packaging is everything.
Once the noodles are cooked, mix three tablespoons of flour with a quarter cup of water, and add to the broth.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I feel pretty good right now. I hope you have found some comfort here. If not, maybe this will help: