I should not make soup

I have tried making soup several times since having moved out. I always think that is a great idea. I will get lots of meals and nutrients out of it. I will eat my daily serving of vegetables, and it will be filling and satisfying. The only problem is, is that I can not make soup.

My first soup was a sweet potatoes soup. I like sweat potatoes, and I though it would be fantastic. It was sweet, and had the consistency of baby food. My mistake was not adding enough broth, but I don’t think that would have even saved it.

My second soup was vegetable soup, based on clean eating (all my soups are clean eating recipes. I think I might be picking up on the trend that doesn’t work. ) called for a lot of dry beans and I prepared it the way the asked me to, and the beans were still chewy and there was too many of them. I ate the soup. But will not make it again.

My third adventure into soup making was a roasted red pepper soup. I have had roasted red pepper soup before and it was amazing. It was phenomenal. Mine was like baby food…again.

My forth soup occurred last night. I decided I was going to try another clean eating recipe. Split pea soup with turkey breast instead of ham, for a healthier option. Now before all of this got underway, I though maybe I should leave it till tomorrow because I was tired and needed some relaxing time. But in my infinite wisdom I decided to go against my first premonition of things to come.

As I was preparing soup ingredients I also thought back to all of my other soups and how they did not turn out. And you know what I thought to myself. “Oh don’t’ worry, this will be the soup that works.” Second warning that I ignored.

So I proceed on and I finished step one of precooking the veggies, without a hitch. Now it is time to add the meat, broth, and 3 cups of split peas. Well my pot that I was using wasn’t going to be big enough. So I switched over to my moms slow cooker that she lent me. I put the ingredients on and turned it to high. Well after two hours nothing had changed (the recipe said it should take 45minutes, but on the stove top). I think this might have been my third warning. But I decided to go with my new motto “Ever onwards!”

Well my moms slow cooker has a removable insert that is stoneware ceramics. And I thought to myself, that I could remove it and put it on the stove top and use it to cook that way. Now I had a little nagging feeling that told me I shouldn’t do that. That something bad was going to happen. I shut that feeling up with my cocky reassurance that I have scene stoneware cookware before that I assumed you could put on your elements and in your oven, and if this was stoneware cookware it should all be fine. This is my fourth warning with the deities that be that I should not be making soup, not today, not ever.

Well after about maybe 15 minutes I hear this huge crack. I look at the stove top and it (the stoneware cook pot) had split in two. All I could say was F*(*#(!@*#(@K really loudly. I put on my oven mitts and take the two halves and put them in the sink, and proceed to clean up the explosion. It was inside my stone, in the drawer at the bottom of my stove, on the side of my stove. It was big, it was messy. I was pissed.

Oh yes I definitely split something but it was not the peas.

All I could think about was being angry and how I was going to laugh this off in my blog. I didn’t, however, take a picture of this explosion. Which I totally should have. Well on the bright side someone got to enjoy some semi cooked soup. My dog went garbage diving as I was cleaning up. This did not add to my happiness levels, but a small part of me was glad that someone got some soup.

So to the soup deities out there… I get it. I am not supposed to make soup. I am not a soup making individual. I know nothing of the soup making ways. Either that or I am not supposed to follow any more clean eating recipes for soup. I will probably blame it on the later, rather than the former next time I decide soup is a great idea. Next time it might be my kitchen that goes up in smoke as the punishment for not listening to aforementioned warnings regarding my abilities to make soup. Someone please remind me next fall when I decide to make soup again.


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