Skip to main content

January, A New Beginning

Mis-cel-la-ny:  A Mixture of Various Things 
(Merriam-Webster)

Miscellany seems to be a way of life for me...a mixture, medley and sometimes, just a jumble of thoughts and activities.  What better way to bring order to chaos, than trying to put it down on paper.  I'd like to think that I have a few things to share, tidbits gleaned in my life.  To those who choose to read my words, thanks.

I love to cook and really love to eat.  However, what I want to consume is simple fare prepared with whatever happens to be fresh and in season.  Since our January has been one of the coldest in 20 years, pots of soup have been gracing our dining table.  Tuesday evening we enjoyed Rustic Potato and Kale Soup with freshly baked biscuits drizzled with butter and honey.   When you've been cold all day, a steamy bowl of coarsely chopped vegetables in a lightly creamy broth is sating.  


Rustic Potato and Kale Soup

4  Cups Mirepoix (mixture of chopped carrots, onions and celery)
6 Large Red Potatoes cut into 2" chunks
4 Cups Chopped Kale
1 Cup Smoky Sausage sliced in 1/4" pieces
Olive Oil
4 Teaspoons Minced Garlic
1 Tablespoon Dry Thyme
4 Cups Chicken Stock
Salt/Pepper to taste
1 Cup Milk
1/2 Cup Plain Greek Yogurt

In a large stock pot heat olive oil, add vegetables and sausage.  Saute until vegetables soften and begin to take on a slight brown color.  Add garlic and thyme to pan and cook for about 2 minutes to release the aromatics.  Add chicken stock to pan, scraping browned bits into the broth.  Let simmer until vegetables are tender, about 20 - 30 minutes.  Add milk and yogurt.  Heat through and serve with crusty bread.

Happy Eating ~ Missy





Comments

  1. Love this, love you, you woman of many, many words .

    Tammy

    P.S. This is my laptop, but I can only post as Mike.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks for the words of encouragement ... and I do have "words" to use!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

lonely has no boundaries

She came into the shop to purchase barbecue sauce, usually 3 to 4 bottles at a time. Her eyes were clear blue, and she had a ready smile that was mixed with quietness and melancholy.
I remember one particular day she came in with eyes red around the edges. I asked if everything was ok. She looked at me with her clear blue eyes and said, "Yes, but there are days you just need to cry." I agreed then, and I agree now.

Today is one of those melancholy days; not a need-to-cry day, but one that's on the side of sad and contemplative. So, it seems appropriate to share this post that's been sitting as a draft for weeks.

People are lonely, desperately crying to be noticed.
I've been lonely. I've had conversations with people who are lonely. The unfortunate thing is, it's not the outcast, recluse living in the hoarder house down the street. It's the chipper girl at the coffee shop who only wants another couple for her and her boyfriend to hang with. I think to m…

a tale from foxtail

fox glides, low to the ground                       sly, inquisitive, resourceful creatures solitary, bronzed and ruddy with flashing eyes        bushy tail dipped in white  forest home or urban domain                                      fox, a nocturnal pilgrim
Summer has afforded me an opportunity to move about aimlessly; not quite a coddiwomple, but sort of. This week, I found myself writing and sipping iced chai at Foxtail Bakery. Let's just say the cookies were perfect and divine; I was completely tempted to purchase more pastries than I should. 

There's a tall counter with white-backed stools and a big garage door to let in light and fresh air. Picture windows face the street. Cars buzz by. Black and white striped umbrellas twirl like the tutu of a ballerina.

Assorted tables and chairs in turquoise and orange fill the space, along with a low-slung wooden table and bistro chairs. Some new-school rattan is thrown in for good measure. It's comfortable and alive.


A larger-tha…

leaving las vegas

Leaving Las Vegas, a line made famous in movies, song lyrics and billboard slogans. For me, it’s more than a catch-phrase. It pierces my heart, now more than ever.

You see, previously, people were there drawing me back, but as pages are torn from the book entitled “Life,” I’m more aware of how fleeting and transient things are. Change is a given.
My heart feels - each word expressed - come back, don’t be a stranger. I know they’re wondering if they’re losing all contact with the family of ones deeply loved. I wonder, too. And while I also know that’s how things happen, I don’t have to like it.

So, I stare out the window of the plane, the sun bringing light and heat to the day in shades of pink and pale orange which burst against the blue sky. My thoughts are pensive, questioning, seeing only the rugged ranges with striations of soil and color veining them. As the plane climbs we soar above the clouds stacked on each other like mounds of whipped sweet cream. Contemplation is as thick as…