chicken soup for flavia's soul - and body

aaah the soup is not even done yet, and i am writing in our blog. i think almost the concept of chicken soup a la my mummy is enough to make me feel well! basically, i have come down with a cold. typical stuffy-nose, sore throat, i-don't-want-to-be-in-class sort of cold. last night while on the phone with my mum, i mentioned how all i really wanted was her csirke leves and nagymama's (my grandmother) borda csik (a type of small pasta that is really difficult to describe unless you've had it before. it's about 1/4 of an inch long and really thin and spiral. hmm. no real english equivalent.) she (my dear mum) then posed a very poignant question: why don't i make it? aah yes. so i explained how i have no time, how assignments are due, how tonight is senior pub night... all this stuff. but when it came down to it, this evening leaving frisbee practice, the only thing i could imagine myself eating for dinner... was chicken soup.

sometimes i wonder whether i'm the only one in the world who can mentally persuade themselves that life is in fact better than it might appear, simply because of what hypothetically lies ahead. as i biked down to morning glory to buy all the accoutrements necessary, i felt this way. i could almost breathe through my nose simply because of the thought of dinner. this is odd, perhaps. i was very spacey at morning glory, as i bought 4 potatoes, a bunch of celery, 3 onions, 4 carrots, and one local chicken. i think the cashier thought i was a nut, but we had a great conversation about whether i was on the "socially responsible" or "socially irresponsible" frisbee team (i was coming from practice and therefore wearing all sorts of funky clothes, and my cleats were hanging off of my bag. geez i look weird.) anyway, this is beside the point. i got home around 5:40, talked with dear gravling about "free-range olive oil" for a few minutes, and got to business. as a side note, in the last 1.5 hours that i've been making this soup, the only (crazy, i know) person i wish could be with me making it, is gravling. i don't know whether he's ever made chicken soup before, but somehow i think the process would make him very happy. all the little chopping involved... and more than anything, the smell. oh god, i hope he doesn't dislike chicken soup. this could be problematic. anyway, for the record, i wish he were here.

at exactly 6pm (i started then because i want to see exactly how long it takes, and i would never think of a timer, weirdo) i put my dear little chicken (all cleaned and patted dry) in a large pot with oodles of water and set it to boil. at this point in the entry, i should note that i have never before in my life made chicken soup. this is a bit terrifying, primarily because i want it so badly, but also because i don't want to waste a chicken. anyway, on the phone last night, mama reminded me of the process. what really amazes me, and is absolutely worth noting, is how (in the words of cornelia aihara) "the hands remember." in my case, a more reasonable quote would be "the eyes, nose, and mouth remember." but i am getting ahead of myself.

growing up, every summer my family would spend three months in my mother's village in hungary. there are too many amazing memories for me to recollect here, but one is particularly important. i remember making soup with my grandmother and great aunts. on of my most vivid memories is that of sitting outside peeling potatoes and trying to "teach" (and by that i mean i was probably 5 or 6 so i didn't know what i was doing) my grandmother english. those potatoes, if my memory serves, were going toward our chicken soup. so even when i say i've never cooked chicken soup (or more precisely csirke leves, since my method/recipe is decidedly from my hungarian side) before, some part of my soma knows what it is doing. :-)

place well-washed and dry chicken in a large pot, and cover with water. bring to a boil, and then reduce heat and simmer. for a long time. probably about an hour. in this time you can, 1) write about how much you love your mother's chicken soup, 2) chop potatoes, carrots, celery, and onions and 3) add to the boiling wonderfulness about 1/4 of a bunch of parsley (all tied up with string so it doesn't float around freely in the broth) to the soup. at about an hour, add the veggies and continue to simmer. by this point, the smell of chicken soup is filling your house, and your heart. i am very grateful for this chicken. i haven't felt this happy in a while, not to mention when i've been sick!

ah well, what a fun night it has been. now nearing 9pm, i have successfully tackled making chicken soup from scratch and eaten it as well (is this like having your cake and eating it too???). it was not difficult to tell when the soup was ready (my big fear going into this), the chicken was tender and easy to pull apart at the joints (sorry. eek!) my biggest criticism of this soup was that i put the potatoes in too early, so they were really soft. i should have waited longer. over all though, this soup is exactly what my body needed. *dinner (very late by my standards) was wonderful, and now i think it is time for bed. so many memories of mezoszemere and my family are tied up in the soup i made that i am sure to sleep well tonight!