But I can’t even, you guys.
I just can’t even right now.
You see, my car’s not starting. AGAIN. And, while I have no problem functioning without a functioning car, I do have a problem with spending a bajillion dollars getting my car fixed and then having it break down three days later.
And, while I try to stay positive about these kind of things, I will admit I’m more than significantly bummed at the moment. Especially since I have Monday off, so I had big plans for me and my car this weekend — like maybe we’d even go some place. Some place I can’t even walk to. I haven’t been to one of those places in WEEKS.
But, sadly, I can’t do that now.So, I’ve been doing the only thing I can do. Listening to the Indie folk revival station on Pandora, drinking red wine and making split pea soup.
And, yes, that is wine in a water glass. Because the one and only wine glass that I currently own is dirty and washing dishes is another thing I can’t bring myself to do right now. After all, washing dishes is for the hopeful — for people who can foresee a future where they might want to eat dinner out of something besides a Tupperware container.
Today, you guys, I am not one of those people.I bought a bag of dried split green peas months ago with the intention of making soup even though I’ve never made split pea soup before. But, since then, I got all caught up in making other soups — cream of cauliflower, gingered squash, curry carrot — happy, joyful, my-car-is-actually-starting soups.
But today I pulled out the bag of tiny green pellet-like peas determined to finally make split pea soup. I mean, is there any soup more cut out for days when you just want to throw yourself from a moving vehicle? But you can’t. Because your vehicle can’t move. I’m pretty sure there is not.
I rinsed the peas as directed in the warning on the back of the bag, saying that the package may contain foreign material despite “modern cleaning equipment.” Bah! Modern equipment! Just like stupid cars! Can’t be trusted!
Also on the back of the package was a recipe for something called “Good Split Pea Soup.”
Which I decided not to follow because I tend to be wary of any recipe that has the word good in the name. I mean, no one’s going to be, like, “Hey, try our recipe for ‘Just So-So Split Pea Soup.'” Or “We should totally call this, ‘What Were We Even Thinking Split Pea Soup’!”
Besides, the recipe called for elbow macaroni. So, umm, yeah, what WERE you thinking, Split Pea Company?Instead, I cobbled together a pile of ingredients resembling the list of ingredients in this recipe. But instead of using ham hocks, I used just regular non-hocky ham.
Also, instead of marjoram I used thyme because I don’t own any marjoram. Honestly, until today I thought marjoram was the name of some famous actor person’s kid. Apparently, it’s a spice. Who knew?
I chopped everything up and threw it all in a pot and let it simmer for an hour until the peas were all mushy like my dream of a weekend excursion.
And then I blended it all together because I’m a smooth soup freak. Seriously, I puree ALL THE SOUPS. In fact, I’ve probably killed more immersion blenders than cars.
I topped my soup with homemade croutons because BREAD, okay? I’m pretty sure carbs — especially those fried in olive oil and oregano — cure all manner of heartbreak.
The soup turned out hearty and homey and just the teensiest hopeful.
Not, like, Maybe-my-car-will-actually-work-tomorrow hopeful.
But more, like, Maybe-I’ll-actually-wash-some-dishes-tonight hopeful.