The first thing i ever learnt to cook was soup. It started off humble. Some cabbage leaves, maybe a carrot, some ketchup and seasoning, but over the years it evolved into something more, something almost stellar. Not one to boast of my own achievements, there are some who would tell you that eating my soup injures and destroys any possibility of them eating soup anywhere else and not comparing it to that time when they ate my soup. Again, not meaning to boast, but i made a soup tonight that must have made the Gods lean over and smile, nodding to each other, that here was a mere mortal crafting food fit for Olympus. I remember a certain soca star who used to hang out with us years ago (even before he grew his locks ) was one of the first people to tell me that my soup was going to go places, and every now and then between big gigs i get a call reminding me that he wants to drop by for soup. Drop by? Again, lets be humble here. The first spoon i tasted while it was at the finish and boil down stage was already perfection, the traces of what would be the congealed skin on top after it cooled already beginning to form (you know your soup texture is perfect based on the consistency of the soup skin), and while i was pressed to keep stirring lest i burn my split peas, i couldnt resist scalding my mouth with not one, not two, but three more taste tests, as if it really needed tasting at this stage. I will share a little secret. I cook my soup in a pressure cooker pot, so i can put on the lid complete with rubber but not the top weight so some steam is lost, but not enough to damage the intended consistency that i am aiming for. Feel free to try it, let me know how it works for you. By now you must be wondering whats in this magical soup? Basic vegetables, plantain, plenty carrots, cream styled corn from a can, split peas, the remains of a perfectly cooked roast now cut up into bite sized cubes already melting in the pot, barbecued pigtail from El Pecos (no need to reinvent the wheel people, if its good, use it) and various spices and a half a handful of Guyana brown sugar. When making your soup you add what speaks to you. I am researching dumplings as i intend to add dumplings to the recipe at some point, but i want the dumplings themselves to be full of flavour, a little surprise in the middle of the soup experience. But back on point as the business people say. Once your flavour profile is achieved and standardised the secret to good soup making is managing the boil and bubble. The moment it boils you need to bring the heat down to just enough to keep it barley bubbling, and maintain that until you get the thickness you desire. I like soup where my spoon can stand straight up unaided in the bowl but that takes patience and an eye for soup as my grandmother used to say (may she rest in perfect peace, that woman could have made a soup). Tonight was the first time i repurposed a roast in soup, and it was perfection. I ate until i could barely move and, putting the remains away into bowls in the fridge i thought of calling others to have some but then i thought no. Im going to have to defend this soup. I plan to eat this soup selfishly all through this weekend, and i only hope Joshua and Kaifa do not pass through and damage it when i am not around. I hope this story encouraged some to push off on a soup journey of their own, to experiment until they too come to a place we who make soup call nirvana. There are many good ways to measure a life, but if your body of work is spent perfecting your signature soup, well, lets just say there are hardly much better ways to live your life.
Posted on: Sat, 12 Jul 2014 00:55:57 +0000
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