I have been yammering on and on and on about how I am going to do a breakfast-palooza for almost an entire year. Yes, since LAST APRIL when I did my TV dinner soupapalooza. I am nothing if not a sloth when it comes to executing all the little delights my underutilized brain can conjure...of course, when I dream up these little delights they are always executed quickly, perfectly and I'm wearing a beautiful party dress that doesn't get any food on it. I really loves me an imaginary Best Case Scenario.

After all the plotting and thinking and reality TV watching (please feel more than free to judge me since I judge everyone else ALL THE TIME) I got off my duff and decided to get back on the soup program. Actually I was nudged by a friend who was coming to town for a quick visit and who also wanted to pack in seeing as many people as possible at one time as she could, which worked out well for me because just like starting a blog to ensure that I actually completed the cooking challenge I set for myself, this was a good way to make sure I didn't puss out. Because I do have a tendency to really, spectacularly puss out. Just ask my friend Delia about how I pretended to tighten the tension on the spinning bike in her class, and about the fact that I still almost fell down the stairs after the class because I've been sitting on my ass for A YEAR. And please forgive my Kanye-ALL-CAPS-I'M-YELLING-AT-YOU emphasis, but I think it's necessary to really MAKE MY POINT.

Anyway, I dreamed (dreamt?) up a pretty ambitious menu, though, like I said earlier, I never think it's all that ambitious (and why am I always so cute in these daydreams?) until 30 people are in my house and there are no pigs in a blanket for them to much on while I toss the salad. I consider that a party fail, though I have learned along this journey that it's usually more important to have the drinks ready than the proverbial pu pu platter as guests arrive, or maybe that's just because I have pretty boozy friends, I don't know, but whatever works.

I had a nagging feeling this Monday morning when I woke up from a sleeping pill haze (an hour earlier, actually, thanks to the time change). I looked to my left and saw Monkey curled up in the crook of my rib and then I heard very loud, concentrated mewing emanating from Osama Beans Laden, a very persistent, totally annoying rescue kitten downstairs, so I knew everything was OK, but something was off (anybody want a really cute, neutered gray cat--he's 'ca(s)t'rati?)... like in Pretty in Pink when Andie and wacky Iona are discussing whether or not Andie should go to prom. Iona says, "I have this girlfriend who didn't go to hers, and every once in a while, she gets this really terrible feeling--you know, like something is missing. She checks her purse, and then she checks her keys. She counts her kids, she goes crazy, and then she realizes that nothing is missing. She decided it was side effects from skipping the prom."

But I didn't skip the prom, I actually went four times. Granted I never even got kissed at any one of them, so it could hardly count that I even went, but I did take a hit of ecstasy my Sophomore year and I danced up a storm while I tapped my acrylic nails rhythmically on a red solo cup full of rum and coke, so I have that going for me. Which is good. I also happened to wear a silver lamé sequined poufy gown that year and I tanned myself into oblivion which meant the only things keeping me from exactly resembling a baked potato were a of a pat of butter and a sprinkle of bacon bits dusted on my head (ugly but DELICIOUS!). Incidentally, I think the fact that the only thing that keeps lamé from being lame is a french accent. Never has anything been more appropriate.

As I started my hike Monday morning, it hit me. Sunday was the three year anniversary of soupapalooza! and I hadn't remembered.

PostedNovember 9, 2012

Authormelissa mcclure

Categoriessoup

Tagsrecipe, thanks for souping, potatoes, kielbasa, soup, ritz crackers, soupaversary, sausage, positively piggy, soup with a side of ennui, soupapalooza!, baked potato prom dress, piggy piggy piggy, potato

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Those are John’s hands on the mandoline in the picture above with the rainbow radishes. John is 15. John has floppy, curly dark hair and a warm smile. John is 15. John has done four (I think it’s four, though it may be more... I had a few glasses of rosé) different stages at amazing restaurants in both New York and Los Angeles. Did I mention that John is 15? John was a volunteer helper on Sunday for “L.A. Loves Alex’s Lemonade Stand”, a beautifully done food event benefiting childhood cancer. John is 15 and he is going to be a great chef. Hell, he’s already a whole hell of a lot more effective passing out food stuffs and assembling a salad plate at an event than I am. But whatever. John is 15.

John was in charge of slicing the radishes because Chef Kenobi thought a 15 year old could and would do a better job of keeping their digits in tact than I would, which is, actually, all too true. I would like to see my hands continue to be full of fingers, tips and all. But just a shout out to John, my new favorite up and coming chef, I loved working next to you on Sunday and I cannot wait to eat in your restaurant in a few years.

Before I had the pleasure of meeting John, Sunday started like any other Sunday for me as I picked up Chef Kenobi and his adorbs sous chef, I’ll call him Bar-Bearded, and we headed off to Culver Studios. OK, It wasn’t like any other Sunday at all except that there was food. And people. And booze... all to benefit a cure for childhood cancer, which is something I think we can all get behind. Before I forget, please go to Alex’s Lemonade Stand and donate your time, your money or get your kids’ schools involved, please do something. This organization is AMAZING. And Alex’s story is heartbreaking and inspiring.

On Saturday Chef Kenobi, Bar-Bearded and I had hit the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market and loaded up on gorgeous Japanese eggplant, herbs, heirloom peppers and micro greens (actually, I just acted as a curious sherpa, asking all sorts of inane questions while lugging economy portions or marjoram from tent to tent). The menu for Sunday: grand aioli, beautiful fresh, local produce, herbed micro green salad seasoned with olive oil, lemon and salt and lightly fried eggplant and baby potatoes.

homefry potato soup with hashbrown, bacon breadcrumbs, fried egg & sriracha: there's a whole lotta bacon goin' on

potato kielbasa soup: sometimes you eat the potato, sometimes you look like the potato

herbed salad of local greens with aioli and fried eggplant and fingerling potatoes: LA Loves Alex's Lemonade Stand and I do, too

Why? Because soup is cheap, delicious and easy. Kind of like me.

a weekly attempt to eat well and to savor life. or to see how much food I can get on my clothes.