06 October 2009

Potage de Ma Vie

There's something you should know about me: I have an addiction to Italian Wedding Soup. I don't know what it is about that delicious blend of spinach and meatballs and carrots--but it takes me home, it just makes me so happy.

I used to have this Italian neighbor that cooked meals for my family whenever one of us was sick. One time my mom was in the hospital and she made us her homemade Italian Wedding Soup. I was 14, and for 6 years I've gone looking for that taste, never finding something so delicious. My mom decided one day to take matters into her own hands and concoct her own version, after much trial and error, of Italian Wedding Soup. Her version is...good. Okay, it's great compared to the canned version of IWS. But once you've had something so magical as the authentic Italian version, it's hard to shake that tasteful memory from your mind.

Why do moms always make everything look so easy? Like saran wrap--how do I tangle myself in the entire roll, trying to wrap up a sandwich, and yet my mom magically has my sandwich air-tight within seconds? Same goes for making IWS. Tonight I thought it would be really fun to cook said IWS of my mother's. I've been living out of cans of Progresso's version of IWS for the past few weeks and thought it would be fun for a change to have some homecooked soup. (Please, also keep in mind that I've never made anything more difficult than stir fry from a bag.)

And I'll spare you the details of what happened over the course of the past 2 hours, mostly because I myself am not entirely sure. There were moments when I saw chicken broth boiling over the pot, onto the glass stovetop, incinerating my eyes with boiling spinach. There were moments where chunks of ground pork and Italian parsley were being tousled across the kitchen counter, when there were eggs and parmesan cheese in my hair and running down my leg (not quite sure how that happened). There was an extreme moment of clarity where I realized I didn't put the onions in, and I believe my entire neighborhood might still be trying to interpret the string of curses expelled from my lips.

But what I did create, whatever it is you see there--this is the most delicious bowl of soup I've ever tasted in my entire life. Now, if only I had written down the ingredients I improvised with...


  1. I love Italian wedding soup, I could eat it for breakfast.

  2. Me too! Maybe I'll open up a cafe someday that serves soup for breakfast.


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