Good soup, fussy cook

 

Now here's a nice little soup for y'all, to get you through the workaday week. Who couldn't use a comforting soup right about now? January always feels long to me. Sure, some of you just had a long weekend. But for those of us punching our own clock, Monday was a work day like plenty of others.

I'm feeling beaten down a bit by the routine, in spite of the fact that my routine is not routine, that it's a heck of a lot better than a lot of people's day-to-day.  But I still have to work to survive, a concept I suspect I will struggle with until the day I exit this world, seeing as I will probably have to work until I drop dead. 

While I find this rather depressing, it's reality. Meanwhile, the husband and I continue to daydream about our inevitable our move to Hawaii, where we will develop a taste for poi, shiver in weather that dips below 70, have dogs with unpronounceable Hawaiian names, and flaunt year-round tans. Please don't tell me that people have to work in Hawaii, or that sometimes they are unhappy: I will surely cry.

So, yeah. I need a vacation. Big time. For now, though, I can take comfort in simple dishes like this one, which was stress-free to put together and delicious to eat. Despite its pedestrian ingredients and rather dull name (sausage, chickpea, and potato soup), this was a hit. I shall certainly make it again, although next time I plan to add some kale or chard; it cried out for a bitter green, both in taste and appearance. Even without it, though, it did the job of soothing my fussy nerves and getting me through another day.

Chicken adobo

 

In keeping with my non-resolution  for the new year, I made something brand new this week, something I have been meaning to make for ages: chicken adobo.

I got the tip-off about this article in the Times from my cousin Joaquin a few days before I saw it in print. By the time that rolled around, I was already committed to making the recipe.

I've made soy sauce chicken dozens of times, which I always think of as similar to adobo--both have that winning sweet-salty combination. But adobo leans heavily on the vinegar. While it does mellow a bit through simmering, you can still taste a little sharpness. I like it.

One thing I left out of this recipe was the chilies. I actually meant to include them--at least one or two--but the store I went to only had big chilies, like anaheims. I actually bought one of these, shrugging to myself in the grocery aisle that what difference would it really make (a lot? none? who cares? I was feeling cavalier), but strangely, when I got home, the chili had escaped my grocery bag. Ran for its hot little life, I guess. So I made the adobo chili-free, which, I have to confess, was fine for me and the husband, as neither of us really goes for the hot food too much.

I loved this recipe. It ended up being a combination of soy sauce chicken and fire and smoke chicken, another favorite. It was my first time working with coconut milk, if you can believe it, and I was a little appalled opening the can. I had neglected to shake it and it stared up at me in a giant clumpy paste. But I turned it out into a bowl and whisked it up a bit which helped considerably.

Not only did I enjoy the flavors of this chicken (marinating for a few hours does wonders), but I have to say it beat my soy sauce chicken in the texture department. After you simmer the chicken for 30 minutes or so, you pull it out and broil it while reducing down the sauce. You may notice that I got a little distracted and let the skin get a bit darker than I might recommend. I forgot how rapidly the broiler can take something from crispy to burnt.

In any case, the chicken was delicious served with plain rice and stir-fried bok choy. The next night it was even better, though, in part because the flavors had further developed, and in part because I made fried rice with the remaining rice, and it's hard to beat any dinner that contains homemade fried rice. I'm sure you'll agree.

Auntie Al's apple cake

 

This morning, I woke up thinking about apple cake.

It was one of those good wake-up moments, where various good things converged: I'd had a great night's sleep, after several restless ones.  I could tell that it was sunny outside, a welcome change from the recent gray skies. And third, I knew we had no plans for today.

I popped up, leaving the husband to sleep in, stepped over the snoring dog, and tiptoed out to the kitchen. Got the coffee going and set about making my Aunt Alice's apple cake.

Auntie Al, as we all call her, is one of my dad's four sisters. She is in her 80s and lives across the bay from me. She is smart, sensible, and practical to the core. But underneath is a deeply loyal and loving heart. I know this because I have seen it many times in my life. As the husband might say, she has a soft and chewy center underneath her tough, no-nonsense shell. 

Auntie Al has been through a great deal, health-wise, in the last few years. She has persevered and survived, almost as if she just set her mind to it and made it so. She and my Frances have something in common (although I would not tell her this for fear it might offend her to be compared to a dog), which is a relentless spirit. I find the quality incredibly admirable, in part because it's something I'm not sure I possess.

Recently, Auntie Al made a remarkable gesture to me. I was shocked by the overture, and both in the moment and in the days following have found myself experiencing the simultaneous swelling of happiness and sadness that great generosity sometimes elicits in me. I can't explain the feeling any better than that. Perhaps you know it.

In addition to being very generous, Auntie Al is also a excellent baker. Her apple cake is golden-crumbed, sweet, and cinnamony, with just the right amount of crunch to balance out the pillowy cake. It's a classic, and one you should definitely consider adding to your weekend brunch.

Auntie Al's apple cake

Originally from Sunset, 1986

For cake

2 c. flour

1 c. sugar

2 t. baking powder

1/4 t. salt

1 large egg

1 c. milk

2 T. vegetable oil

2 large apples, peeled, cored and thinly sliced (recipe calls for Golden Delicious, I had Galas on hand)

For topping

1 c. brown sugar

1 t. cinnamon

1/3 c. butter, melted

1/2 c. chopped walnuts (or whatever nut you prefer)

Preheat oven to 350. Butter and flour a 9x13 baking pan.

Whisk dry ingredients together in a large bowl.

In a smaller bowl, beat egg to blend, then whisk in milk and oil. Add to dry ingredients and stir until combined, but don't overmix. Spread batter evenly in pan. Arrange apples in rows on top of batter.

To make the topping, in a small bowl, stir together brown sugar, cinnamon, and butter; distribute evenly over apples. Sprinkle topping with nuts. Bake for 45 minutes, or until the cake begins to pull away from the sides of the pan and a skewer comes out clean. Let cool at least 10 minutes in pan before cutting. Serve warm or at room temperature.