Based on the Boston Globe, 2005 August 21
Serves 4.
In a large flameproof casserole, melt the margarine. Add the onion and carrot and cook over medium heat, stirring often, for 10 minutes or until the vegetables soften.
Add the garlic and cook, stirring, for half a minute more. Stir in the zucchini, stock, water, nutmeg, salt, and pepper. Bring the mixture to a boil. Turn the heat to medium-low and simmer the soup, stirring occasionally, for 30 minutes or until the vegetables are tender. Stir in the mint leaves.
In a blender, puree the soup several ladlefuls at a time, returning the pureed soup to a clean saucepan. Reheat the soup just until you see bubbles at the edge of the pan. Ladle the soup into small bowls and garnish with mint leaves. Serve at once.
To serve the soup cold: Let the mixture cool completely and store in a plastic container in the refrigerator. Before serving, let the soup sit out for 30 minutes. Ladle into bowls, and garnish with fresh mint.
Notes: Haven't tried it yet. It might be good garnished also with a spoonful of soy yogurt.
We were young and our happiness dazzled us with its strength. But there was
also a terrible betrayal that lay within me like a Merle Haggard song at a
French restaurant. [...]
I could not tell the girl about the woman of the tollway, of her milk
white BMW and her Jordache smile. There had been a fight. I had punched her
boyfriend, who fought the mechanical bulls. Everyone told him, "You ride the
bull, senor. You do not fight it." But he was lean and tough like a bad
rib-eye and he fought the bull. And then he fought me. And when we finished
there were no winners, just men doing what men must do. [...]
"Stop the car," the girl said.
There was a look of terrible sadness in her eyes. She knew about the
woman of the tollway. I knew not how. I started to speak, but she raised an
arm and spoke with a quiet and peace I will never forget.
"I do not ask for whom's the tollway belle," she said, "the tollway
belle's for thee."
The next morning our youth was a memory, and our happiness was a lie.
Life is like a bad margarita with good tequila, I thought as I poured whiskey
onto my granola and faced a new day.
-- Peter Applebome, International Imitation Hemingway
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This page was last modified on 2011 December 20.