After a family simcha, there was quite a bit of leftovers. A dismantled salad bar yielded bins of mushrooms, grape tomatoes, multicolored peppers, cucumbers, and red onions.
I cannot handle nor tolerate waste, to the point that even Ma tells me to relax and throw something away already. But she and I both obsessed what to do with the rapidly disintegrating vegetation—once thoroughly washed for human consumption, the countdown begins.
The mushrooms were easily salvaged, quickly becoming a mushroom-barley soup, tucked away in the freezer for the next yontif. I tried to take as many tomatoes with me to work for lunch, but they were getting aged before I could eat them.
With a quick google, I decided to experiment.
Whipping out an underused blender, I pulverized the tomatoes and peppers, along with some onions, garlic, celery, cucumbers, and leftover Israeli salad that was starting to look a little waterlogged.
Via twigandfeather.com |
The results were very pretty, looking exactly like any other tomato soup. I added a can of tomato sauce, two cans of tomato paste, sugar, salt, and pepper. I froze some as useful future bases, then cooked up the remainder for a bit, adding rice the way I would to any other tomato soup.
I bravely marched into the office with my Tupperware, daring it to upset my stomach.
First slurp . . .
I'm still alive!
It tasted pretty much like any tomato soup, although in retrospect I should have strained out that sediment. My father had it for two nights in a row and loved it. (If only he knew . . .)
Babi would be so proud of me. The spirit of European thrift lives on!
First slurp . . .
I'm still alive!
It tasted pretty much like any tomato soup, although in retrospect I should have strained out that sediment. My father had it for two nights in a row and loved it. (If only he knew . . .)
Babi would be so proud of me. The spirit of European thrift lives on!
No comments:
Post a Comment