Showing posts with label Grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grief. Show all posts

Monday, October 25, 2010

Our Favorite Soup

We had a wonderful wet, stormy weekend- the kind that I live for and dream about all year long! I know many people get inspiration from warm, sunny days, but I am a girl who draws upon the power of Cozy. A rainy grey day that calls for wool socks, hot cocoa and lazy afternoon lounging is pure magic in my world. On days like these, I know no other way to warm and fill our tummies than to make a large pot of soup to feast on all week. Partner it up with some homemade bread, and I feel like I've given my family the biggest hug they could ever wish for.

A very close family friend of ours passed away about 8 years ago after battling cancer. Her name was Kathy, and if you don't know her directly- trust me, you know someone who probably does. She was the most loving, generous, outspoken, hilarious, good-hearted woman I knew, and she was an inspiration to me in more ways than I can even count. And good heavens, the woman could cook. She loved to feed people, and people loved to be fed by her. Hers was the house that everyone wanted to come to for parties and social gatherings. She was an Italian genius in the kitchen- she left behind an incredible legacy, and lucky for us, one of the best recipes for soup I've ever had. 

While I was enjoying the rain yesterday afternoon, I had a surprising wave of grief come over me, as grief often does, suddenly deeply missing Kathy. Couple this with not a clue for what to make for dinner, and suddenly the inspiration came together. I would make her soup and make some bread and cook my way through my temporary moment of grief. As we were eating dinner last night, not only did my family fall in love with the soup (Ben had 4 bowls), but I was able to explain where I got the recipe, and tell my children a little bit about who Kathy was. I can't help but think she was smiling down on us- heavenly tears of joy filling her eyes, seeing my little family around the table, eating her soup and cherishing her memory. There are no words to express the imprint she's left on our hearts.

Thank you, Kathy, for this soup. And for everything.

Photo courtesy of Nicco Zuffanelli


Kathy Z's Sausage & Vegetable Soup
*NOTE: Being the crazy Italian woman that she was, Kathy cooked "loosely"; meaning, every single ingredient listed is an approximation. You can add or take away any ingredient to tailor it to your specific taste. That's the beauty of this recipe. My personal notes are included in parenthesis.

Ingredients:
-1 zucchini, sliced
-1/2 lb. green beans, halved lengthwise (I used about 3/4 lb because we love green beans)
-1/2 lg. onion, chopped
-1 can crushed tomatoes (I thought this meant a smaller, 14 oz. sized can, but when I went to the store, the only can of crushed tomatoes that were available were the larger 28 oz. size. It's definitely a stronger tomato base & flavor, but it was to die for.)
-6 c. chicken stock (I ended up adding at least a cup of water to thin out the crushed tomatoes a bit. Again, this is all to taste! Typically I use the low-sodium stock so I can control how much salt we're having; however the store was sold out of low-sodium so I used the regular stock. According to my husband, this  actually MADE the soup....go figure....)
-Big handful of mini cheese ravioli (Trader Joe's carries these, but I didn't have time to go out that way. Instead, we used a small soup pasta, called "Stelline ". They are these cute little star shapes and they were excellent in this soup! I used 1/2 box, or 1/2 lb.)
-5 cloves garlic, minced
-1 lb. Italian sausage- sweet or spicy
-*I also added 2 carrots and 2 celery sticks for additional flavor, both chopped
-Salt & pepper to taste

In dutch oven or large soup pot, saute sausage until beginning to brown over medium high heat. Add onion, garlic (and in my soup, this is also when I added the carrots & celery), until vegetables soften. Add all other ingredients EXCEPT for the pasta. Bring to a boil, and turn down to a simmer to cook the rest of the vegetables until al dente (approximately 10-15 minutes). While the soup is simmering, boil pasta (ravioli or other) according to package directions. Add the cooked pasta to the soup just before serving. Season to taste. Serve soup with hearty serving of parmesan sprinkled on top. It also tastes wonderful with a shot of olive oil on top. Enjoy!


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Thursday, August 19, 2010

Grief

I've been laying low the past few days, sorting out some events that have recently taken place in our lives. One of Dan's colleagues- a wonderful, loving, and sweet man who has done nothing greater in his role as vice-principal than support Dan beautifully- just lost his 21 year old son in a small private plane crash last Friday. When a tragedy of such magnitude hits this close to home, it's difficult to get through the day without feeling incredibly selfish. So, I got stuck in traffic for 20 minutes. So what? I have a 4 year old who is driving me nuts. So what? It's the reason I haven't even dared blog in a week, because suddenly I've gained a whole new level of perspective. When someone you know and love is enduring the most painful moment in their life, somehow it just feels wrong that our lives get to continue, and that such trivial everyday events continue to unfold.

Right now I'm just completely overwhelmed at the juxtaposition of life and death; this family, mourning the loss of their precious son, a fact I am reminded of 1,000 times a day with every moment I get to spend with my children, and with every new memory we are lucky enough to create. Now that I'm a parent, the thought of losing a child takes my breath away. The possibility alone stings my heart. I cannot fathom anything more painful, and I'm left feeling helpless and unsure of how we can support their family in this time of tremendous grief. I find that I'm putting myself in their position multiple times throughout the day, asking, "What would I want from friends & family? How would I want to be comforted?" And so, I've made them a loaf of homemade bread, which will be hand delivered by Dan this afternoon. He'll go to their house to sit with them, to perhaps cry with them, to just be with them. That's the thing about grief- it strips us down to the fragile, vulnerable core, and bonds humans together in a way unlike any other. All we can do now is pray, and let our flood gates of love open wide. I know they'll be taking baby steps towards finding peace. As for today, I just pray for an ample dose of hope.

"Earth hath no sorrow that heaven cannot heal."
-Thomas Moore
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