With These Hands I Keep The Wolves At Bay

See that? That pretty yellow bowl o' goodness? That there, my friends, is a top notch Sanity Preservation Device. Yeah, yeah, I know it looks like a bowl of soup*, but it helped me maintain my mental well-being during a long, lonely weekend last. 

What's it called? you may ask. Go ahead, ask. (waiting) Well, I'm glad you asked! It is called Curried Potato & Carrot Soup. I made it all by myself, no cookbooks were harmed during the making of this meal. It was on Saturday after a fruitful day of photo taking outdoors, and I was getting hungry and tired and a little melancholy as the sun went down. I eat alone most of the time nowadays, and that leads to feral behavior and sloppy manners. Saturday night, I wasn't in the mood for that so I forced myself to be disciplined and act civilized. I reckoned a little cooking therapy might chase the wolves away, or at least distract them.

As it was, I had some leftover broth from a big batch of seafood chowder. It wasn't enough for a meal all by itself, but in combination with some chicken broth it had potential for a big pot of soup. The chowder broth was based on clam juice, water and half-and-half. Perfect for a winter night, I think. The next big idea was the potatoes. I had some big Yukon Gold 'taters in the pantry, so I cubed them up. Joining them was two carrots, cut about the same size as the potatoes. To start things off, I diced some onion small and sweated it in a pan with a little olive oil. Once they turned translucent, I sprinkled in about a teaspoon of my favorite curry blend and Oh, my! The saffron in the curry turned the oil a deep yellow with gold highlights. Man, that was beautiful!

Long story short, I sauteed the potatoes and carrots briefly with the onion-curry mix, poured in just enough water to cover, and simmered until the potatoes and carrots were almost done, about ten minutes. Then I stirred in the chowder broth, letting it heat up and blend in while I made a salad. It was such a lovely shade of yellow, I gazed at it for a while because I didn't want to disturb it.

But I was hungry. So ate it. All of it. Licked the bowl.** Verdict: It.was.excellent. The wolves fell behind a bit.

The pretty blonde you see above? That is Sanity Preservation Device #2. I woke up Sunday morning still in a bit of a funk. It was grey and raining outside. The euphoria from the curry potato and carrot soup had worn off overnight, and I was feeling wolf breath on my heels. As I lay there in the early morning light, I had it in mind that I should make some bread. I wasn't sure why, I just felt like I needed to do it. Reading a recently bought book on bread making must have been the inspiration, and I had just purchased some flour and yeast.

So even before I showered, I was in the kitchen, mixing the flour and water and salt and yeast. The first time I had made bread in nearly twenty years. As I stood there, no radio, no computer, nothing but me, the dough and my breathing...I felt lighter, calmer, steady. It felt good, like I was getting some breathing room. Over the course of the morning I let the dough rise three times, and finally popped in the oven to bake while I ate lunch. The smell alone was worth the effort. Mmm, mmm!

I had the discipline to let it cool down enough and set up, which was worth the wait. The first two slices were so good...later, I snacked on some drizzled with olive oil, salt and pepper. To have with dinner, I slathered two slices with olive oil, salt, pepper and minced garlic, then broiled them to crisp. Face-on-the-table good, my friends!

So why am I blathering on about all my kitchen doings? Because making good things to eat, with my hands while listening to my intuition, pretty much saved me from a serious bout of cabin fever. The satisfaction of honest labor well spent allowed me put the wind to my heels and leave the wolves far behind.

Join me for a bowl and a slice, would you? What helps you keep the wolves at bay?

*Even though it looks a bit like chowder, it is really a bowl of soup. It has chowder in its pedigree, though.

**Not really. That's the feral behavior I mentioned. I did swab the bowl with some bread. Yum.