It’s been raining all. day. long. It smells like fall, and the days are getting shorter. Today, the weather said, “Potato soup!” and it was pretty emphatic about it. If this happens to you, you’d better have a recipe at the ready, because when it’s potato soup weather, nothing else will do. If the prospect of making decent potato soup scares you, relax. It’s not hard; it’s simple comfort food: just as comforting to prepare as it is to eat. In fact, making potato soup is sort of soothing. A lot like a rainy day…
Step 1:
Ask the menfolk to start a fire in the fireplace, and turn on the baseball game for them. This will keep them both occupied and happy while they wait for soup.
Step 2:
Take your shoes off (I’m serious: the soup won’t turn out right if you try to cook it with your shoes on) and turn on some good music. This would be a marvelous time to enjoy Mary Chapin Carpenter’s “Ashes and Roses”, which is like good potato soup: filling, creamy, but with a little kick, and completely wonderful:
Step 3:
Get out a five-pound bag of plain old everyday russet potatoes and a big pot. As you sing along with Mary, wash, and peel the potatoes, then dice them in one-inch pieces. I like a lot of potatoes in my soup, so I fill the pot about a third full. Add one of those gigantic cans of chicken broth (or,even better, use your own), a quart of half-and-half, and two cans of cream of celery soup. Turn the burner on low. Add in one diced Vidalia onion (I dice the onion pretty big), two or three cloves of minced garlic, and two stalks of *very fresh* chopped celery (do not settle for wimpy dreary pastel-ly celery). Next, add in a healthy bit of freshly ground black pepper, a dash of cayenne, and some Tony’s to taste.
Step 4:
Grab the nearest small child and dance to Mary Chapin for about two hours or so while the soup simmers, taking a few breaks to give the pot a stir.
Step 5:
Spoon out about a cup of broth into a glass measuring cup, and set it aside. In an iron skillet (is there any other kind?), fry one pound of bacon very crisply. As the bacon is frying, add three-four tablespoons of cornstarch to the cupful of broth you have resting on the counter and whisk it vigorously. Return the cupful of broth to the soup, and stir. Put the cooked bacon on a paper-towel lined plate. Give it a couple of minutes to cool, then gather the paper towel together and smash the bacon into bits. The paper towels will absorb much of the grease. Put the bacon bits in a bowl, and set them on the table.
Step 5:
Chop one bunch of green onions, shred some sharp cheddar cheese, and pull out a tub of Daisy sour cream. Tell that small child to set the table, fill up the bowls, let everyone garnish their soup as they like, and then…
“Don’t Need Much to be Happy” ~Mary Chapin Carpenter
Step 6:
Enjoy…