Happy Monday! Saturday was gorgeous here in the Carolinas so I spent all day playing in the dirt. Remember last week’s pic of me with the chunk of stump? Well, removing it and its larger companion left a lovely divot with root tunnels in the yard. This pile of Carolina clay is about 4.5 feet tall and 5 feet wide at the base. I didn’t create all that carve-out, but I did gouge out enough dirt to fill five wheelbarrows that almost filled the crevices left by the stump.
Saturday morning before I went out, I noticed an owl perched in a remaining tree in the area I wiggled the stump from. I made sure to check for baby bunnies and copperheads before I started filling and tamping in the divot and tunnels–the hollows in the rotting old stump was known to be home for both in recent years and the owl was a reminder. Thankfully all was clear. One more wheelbarrow of dirt and it should be done.
I know others weren’t so lucky with the weather as tornadoes spun across several states. I hope all of you in their paths are safe as we head into this new week.
I’m definitely not what one would call a ‘foodie’, but I’m not too afraid of trying new things, (I had black pasta while on the Camino which is pasta made with squid ink) so when I saw a carton labeled ‘Pickle Soup’ in a local market, The Country Carrot, how could I resist? Anyone else ever hear of pickle soup? This particular small batch culinary delight was made by Ela Deli Euro-Roots Market in Ft. Mill, SC, specializing in Polish foods made from family recipes. Hubby is of Polish descent but had never heard of this.
The ingredients list for the soup included potatoes, carrots, onions, sour cream, pickled cucumbers, and various spices. The soup was frozen so I couldn’t see much, but I had visions of baby gherkins bobbing and floating like tiny rafts in my bowl. As you can see, there aren’t any rafts bobbing in the bowl. With sour cream an ingredient, I assumed the soup would lean toward dill pickle and not sweet hamburger chip. So just how sour and salty was this soup going to be? Maybe more like Lawson’s Chip Dip than lip puckering salt and vinegar chips. Only one way to find out as I put the carton in my basket.
The broth wasn’t thin and watery, but had a little thickness I imagine from the sour cream, but still broth. The potatoes, carrots, and onions were small diced chunks–bits of flotsam and jetsam in my bowl–and the pickles were thin slices, taken along the length of the baby cuke, not across it. I was surprised all the veggies, and especially the pickles, kept their texture and didn’t become overly mushy. There were plenty of veggies and pickles in each spoonful so a semi-hearty soup.
And it was delicious. It had a hint of tartness, but not overwhelming. I could definitely taste a dill pickle flavor (not just dill spice) but again, not the strong puckering effect I braced for. It was perfect for the chilly day when soup warms from inside out. Hubby wasn’t interested in tasting something called ‘pickle soup’ so I had the full container to myself. It didn’t last long.
Tasting an unfamiliar food is no biggie for me, usually, but I know it is for others. I’m also one who will walk into a room without first turning on a light. Or poking into a hole where bunnies and copperheads were known to live. Some risks are riskier than others. But I know from experience if I don’t take them, most of the time I would’ve missed out on something wonderful–like the Camino–or delicious, like pickle soup.
Two weeks ago, I watched a new documentary on Wendell Berry. If you’ve read my posts very long you know I’m a fangirl. To me, Berry has often seemed like a risk-taker, in the sense he goes against the grain. Through his poetry and essays, and even to some extent his novels, Berry has always been a voice of alarm and caution on environmental issues, on paying attention to and the importance of the beauty of the earth, on our responsibility for stewardship. In one clip in the documentary, he’s going up against a government official who is extoling the virtues and positives of turning farming into a larger profitable enterprise for the good of the economy. Berry is pushing back on the philosophy of agri-business.
He’s lived a rather unconventional life by modern standards he doesn’t own a computer or a television. He still lives on the family farm he farmed for decades without use of huge expensive modern machinery. Well into his nineties, he’s still living his convictions. Young farmers interviewed in the documentary are listening to his old-timey, conventional wisdom, turning away from big agri-business farming, and actually making a profit with smaller sustainable farming. Watching the film gave me hope, made me admire all the risk-takers who are paying attention to the environment.
In the last week I’ve added two more names to the names I pray during this war with Iran. Unfortunately, for their protection, I’m not allowed to share them. I pray their name in silence for the risks they are taking.
While I worked in the yard Saturday, I noticed my blueberry and blackberry bushes have new length and buds; as I look out my office window, I see a green haze around the trees as they begin to leaf out. I hope this season’s greetings are reaching you as well. May we all hold together as we find our country in a pickle. I hope you all have a great week! Enjoy some soup and I’ll see you next Monday.
A Writer's Window 