Joy of Cold Soups

Cold Soup for a Hot Day

Boy is it hot: really scorching outside. When it's this hot, that means it's time for . . . soup?  What?

Soup in the summertime seems counter intuitive, but that's where cold soups can really fit the bill, for several reasons:

1. They tend to use fresh produce, either from the garden or the farmer's market.

2. They come in savory options, if you want a something remotely traditional for a soup course, or sweet options, if you want a light dessert.

3. They are refreshingly delicious.

4. They can be made ahead of time, in the cool of the morning, and chilled for several hours.

By Gila Brand at en.wikipedia (Own work) [CC BY 2.5 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5)], via Wikimedia Commons

For savory cold soups, you can choose from vichyssoise, gazpacho, borscht, or cold cucumber soup, among others. You might try this cold Summer Squash Soup I made recently:

Cold Summer Squash Soup

4 medium yellow squash, sliced
1 yellow onion, chopped
4 TBSP butter
3 cups chicken broth
1/4 tsp. cayenne, or to taste
1 cup plain yogurt

Melt the butter and then saute the squash and onion until the vegetables are tender. Add the chicken broth; let the mixture come to a boil and then simmer it for five minutes. Let cool and then add the cayenne pepper.  Blend the mixture and return it to the pan. Whisk in the plain yogurt. Chill for at least one hour (preferably more) before serving. Serves 6-8.


For sweet soups, fresh fruits will play a starring role. Try strawberry soup or cherry soup: yum! You can even go old-school and make traditional Fruktsoppa (Swedish Fruit Soup).

To beat the summer heat, it's hard to beat cold soup, whether as a main dish, side dish, or dessert. Bon appetit!

Gardening and Grief

Gardening and Working through the Grieving Process

My father died May 1, 2015. He hadn't planned to do so, of course. Ever since then, I have been working through the five-stage grieving process--or seven-stage, depending on which model you choose to observe.

While I've been tending the container garden area, the main garden lies almost dormant this summer -- except for the asparagus plants and what I affectionately call "mystery squash": various squash seeds were started, and I failed to label them.

While I have been mourning my father, the main garden, sadly, has suffered from neglect: the weeds have taken over, the soil has not been enriched lately, and I've not planted anything new. Yes, El Niño has certainly played a role, with the torrential downpours that have occurred until recently, but still: grief has invaded the main garden.

By Angelsharum (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

As I move into the acceptance phase of grieving, it is time to reclaim the garden.

In the cool of the morning or in the evening, accompanied by the cool, reassuring presence of Spirit, it is time to pull weeds. Yes, Ralph Waldo Emerson did say the following about weeds: "What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered." Be that as it may, as I cast away weeds, I cast away regrets, the "might-have-beens," to be left with the good, loving memories of my father.

It is time to feed the soil, to nourish it, for fulfilling the promise of a vibrant, vital autumn garden: a second harvest and a second chance.

It is time to begin today.

By tending the garden, I tend my soul as well as my father's legacy: the lessons of love I have learned from him and his contributions towards making the world a better place. In his memory, I till the ground and plant the seeds of a promising tomorrow. Namaste and Blessed Be.

Sensual Pleasures of Summer

Summertime Pleasures through the Senses

Ahh: summer-- a bountiful time in the garden and in the kitchen, in the yard or on the front porch. This is a season of riches: of plentiful produce, of longer days, of increased opportunities to fulfill our wishes.

I can hear you now; "Are you crazy? It's so hot: it's 98 degrees in the shade, and the humidity makes it even worse. It's hot and sticky out there, sapping my energy. And did I mention that it's hot?"

Yes, it is hot--for part of the the day (okay, a good part of the day). Even so, this precious season brings certain sensual pleasures to enjoy: you may just have to enjoy some of these gifts in the early morning or late evening hours.What to do during the hottest part of the day? That's what siesta as for.

Sights

Summer is a time for rich color: vibrant greens, blues, pinks, yellows, oranges, and reds--seen in trees and flowers, fruits and vegetables of the garden. At the beach, the water seems bluer and the sand seems more golden. In the evening the fireflies dance in the air. Everything seems to shimmer brightly at this time of year.

Sounds

Summer is a glorious time for the sounds of birds chirping, or squawking, as well as the sounds of cicadas and crickets. What can compare to the sounds of waves lapping the shore at the beach or lake, or of the occasional summertime rain shower?

Textures

Summer is practically synonymous with being at the beach or lake and feeling the sand between the toes, followed by a cool dip in the water. In the summer, the gardener gets to enjoy the feel of succulent, ripe fruits and vegetables, ready for harvest.

Smells and Tastes

Summer tantalizes the senses of smell and of taste. The scents of flowers blooming, ripened produce, the smell dinner cooking on the grill (so as not to heat up the kitchen) are almost intoxicating. The taste of ice cream, homemade or store bought, tastes more refreshing during this season. And certain drinks -- iced tea, margaritas, and mint juleps -- truly make a summer afternoon or evening.

Enjoy the sensual pleasures of summer!

By Alfons Mucha [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Add even more to your summer experience with the Creative Goddess ecourse, courtesy of Leonie Dawson's Shining Biz and Life Academy. Disclaimer: I am an affiliate of the Shining Biz and Life Academy and its programs because I believe in them and endorse them wholeheartedly.

Getting Your Gardening Fix in an El Niño Year

Gardening in Spite of El Niño

This year, weather-wise, has been topsy-turvy because of the emergence of El Niño, which consists of warm water temperatures in the Pacific Ocean along the equator. This pattern can wreak havoc on anything related to weather, including gardening.

In my neck of the woods, we have been experiencing record rainfall, while other areas have been experiencing moderate to severe drought. Either scenario is going to affect gardening efforts.

While I have added to my container garden--cherry tomatoes, peppers, squash, and herbs--I have, honestly, not been able to do anything with the main garden this summer. While the weeds continue to grow higher than my head, I could start feeling frustrated and inadequate, not to mention resentful of this weather pattern, but what purpose would beating myself up mentally serve? This attitude would be a waste in emotional energy.

Instead, I've decided to take things a sunny day at a time. On the mornings or evenings it's not raining, I take an hour, or even two, to weed, to tend the container garden, or to prepare the main garden for a fall garden (in my area, a fall garden is feasible and practical). The "Tortoise and the Hare" fable definitely comes to mind here: I know I'll get there, eventually. It's a practice in delayed gratification at its finest.

An example of a container garden 

I have determined that the El Nino pattern could be seen as an obstacle, or it could be seen as an opportunity to slow down and to savor the garden, even if it's not "perfect." The truth is that a garden is always a work in progress: this realization becomes more obvious when one has to seize the gardening moment whenever it decides to present itself.

There's no use in fighting or resisting the El Niño weather pattern: that is an exercise in futility, and who needs that?

"Learn to be an observer in all seasons. Every single day, your garden has something new and wonderful to show you"  (Anonymous Author). This is a worthy goal and lesson--even in an El Niño year.