If, like me, you hate to see a turkey carcass tossed out after a holiday dinner, then you probably make soup. I did. I managed to get a lot of meat off the frame and made a typical soup, that is, whatever is found in the refrigerator and/or the cabinets, goes in. If I have to make a special trip to the store, then a-follow-the-recipe soup won't get made.
Not surprisingly, last Friday's Round-Up found at least two offerings of soup poems. Tara Smith at A Teaching Life contributed "Everybody Made Soups" by Lisa Coffman and Kay at A Journey Through the Pages cooked up an original titled, "Simmering Echoes."
Those two posts, and the fact that I had recently finished off the last of the seemingly never-ending pot of turkey soup, inspired me to add my own poem to the canon of soup poems. (If there isn't a canon of soup poems, then I suggest we have the beginnings of one!) And, although there are some similarities to the two poems shared last week (there are some basic ingredients that you'll find in every turkey soup), mine comes to a slightly different conclusion.
I normally don't use the word "gift" as a verb, but it seemed to fit the poem. I also heard this segment on NPR, which gave me permission!
Visit Keri at Keri Recommends for the Round-Up and have a great weekend!
After the Second Turkey Holiday
After the carving of portion-sized
pieces, after the dog has been
gifted with the innards, the nearly
naked carcass is given one more life.
These bones that were subjected
to full-bore denuding will release
a surprising amount of flavor
when boiled in a pot of water.
Add to the pot the following
chopped (finesse is not necessary)
vegetables: garlic, onions, carrots,
--maybe a potato, and celery.
Don't forget seasoning: a little
salt, a little more pepper, and
whatever else you find in a small
jar that still smells appealing.
Then add barley. Is half-a-cup too
little? More won't hurt, and, if it
turns into a stew, is that a problem?
If you prefer rice, wait until later.
Gently simmer, simmer, simmer
until time to eat, eat, eat, eat, eat.
After five days of turkey soup cross
it off your menu for another year.