Make It Up Monday #1

What happens when a friend 1200 miles away wants your recipe but there is no recipe? You give a pictorial play-by-play!

“My Best Friends” was inspired by… my best friends. Like everyone, I’ve had a lot of friends come in and out of my life through different stages and different seasons.  Some friends move geographically. Some “move” through just for a season, while their location never changes. They are all cherished for their own individual reasons, even after they have gone .

Then I have some friends that are very dear to me that have never been geographically close. Thanks to modern technology, we can connect with people and develop friendships all over the world. This post is inspired by one of those very dear friends who lives about 1200 miles away. She visited me here in Raleigh recently, and we cooked dinner together. Twice. We’re tight if I’m letting you help in my kitchen. Share my knives? Yup. Let’s slit our palms and make a blood bond. Too far? Ok, ok. Besides, that breaks so many kitchen sanitation rules. And I get squeamish with blood anyway.

Last night I was making dinner; dicing up some onions and red bell peppers. Suddenly, I had a moment of nostalgia from the week prior when we made chili, and we were dicing up the exact same ingredients. I texted her and asked “I’ve cut the onions. Where are you? The bell peppers are waiting for you.” I don’t remember her exact reply, but it was probably something like the emoji sticking its tongue out. But then she asked what I was making.

“Now what are you making?”

“Kielbasa kale soup.”

“I might need the recipe.”

“This is made up as I go.” (Thus “Make It Up Monday”)

“Well give me the gist.”

And that started the pictorial play-by-play, sharing a dinner recipe across 1200 miles via text, and now shared with you here.

Kielbasa and Kale Soup

I live in Raleigh, NC. Some of the food package/labels you will see might be local store brands. They aren’t paying me to show their brands. It’s just what I have.

First up, the kielbasa.

Yeah, that’s two boxes of Frosted Flakes on the counter. I was unpacking groceries.

Next up is the kale. I bought a single bundle of fresh kale. Rinsed it all off, stripped the leaves from the ribs, and then roughly chopped it all into smaller chunks. Toss it into a bowl for later.

Silver bowl of kale

I also diced up some onion and red bell pepper. Plus a bit of garlic gets minced up. (If you hate the work of mincing garlic with a knife, use a microplane. WAY easier. I don’t endorse any particular brand microplane over another, but here’s the one closest to what I use. I bought mine nearly 20 years ago.) If the garlic cloves are big, maybe just 2. If they are small, 3 or 4 might be good. If you don’t like garlic, leave it out. (But you should know it’s in the kielbasa, too.)

I only used half of the uncut bell pepper you see here. The other half was cut into strips for my teenager to snack on. In fact, not all of the diced pieces in this picture made it into the pot as she kept stealing as she passed by multiple times. (Don’t show this picture to my Culinary Skills I instructor. He might take away my A for an inconsistent dice job in this photo.)

Now, I probably should have already said this, but next to me on the stove is a big stainless steel soup pot. (Why do I mention that it’s stainless steel? Because you want to avoid aluminum. We will be adding acid, in the form of tomatoes, and acid does not play well with aluminum. So any pot you have that isn’t aluminum should be fine.) It’s warming up, just a smidgen below the middle number on the dial. Once it’s warmed up, I add a swirl of EVOO (Thank you, Rachel Ray, for putting that acronym in my culinary vocabulary instead of “extra virgin olive oil”.) Then I dump in the veggies, stir them around and add a bay leaf.

No filter. Just steam on the lens.

While that’s sizzling away and getting a little color, I turn to the kielbasa. I go for half moons this time.

Again, don’t show my instructor the inconsistent knife skills.

After getting the kielbasa cut up, it goes right into the pot. Stir it around to get a little color on it as well.

Stir that kielbasa in.

In comes the acid. 1 can of diced tomatoes. Don’t like chunks of tomato? (My friend 1200 miles away doesn’t care for them.) Add a can of tomato sauce instead. Or just leave tomato out and add 1/4 cup of red or white wine. Or do wine AND tomato. (Dang it. Why didn’t I think to add wine last night?)

I’ve also added some fresh ground pepper and some oregano at this point. How much? Probably about 6 turns on my pepper mill, and I would guess about 2 teaspoons of dried oregano. (I have fresh oregano growing outside, but I was too cold to go out and get it.)

Do you see the little bits of color developing on those veggies and the kielbasa? Yum!

When I looked in the pot, I realized it needed a pop of color. Yes, the kale is going to add a beautiful contrasting green, but what is in there now is all in a similar color range. I want one more stand out item. So I go to my pantry and retrieve this…

Yeah, I need a new can opener. This one has a spot that I think is bent on one of the wheels. Anyway, I dump the beans in the cute little colander you see in the sink and rinse them off well with cool water. Then they go into the pot.

Next up, add the main liquid. I don’t keep boxes of stock on hand, it’s just not how I operate. I prefer using bases. I can control the concentration, and it just works better for me as far as shelf space in my pantry and fridge. So I added 6 cups of water and a generous tablespoon of the base you see in the pic. (I went shy on the amount of base the label recommends because I wanted the flavor to be subtle. Want a stronger flavor? Use the amount your label says to use.)

Put a lid on the pot and let it all heat back up to a simmer or low boil. I wash up cutting boards and knives while that’s happening. #CleanAsYouGo

This is the point where I taste test. I haven’t added any salt at all through this process for several reasons. The kielbasa is going to have some salt, and the base is going to bring some salt to the party as well. So here is where I add salt a little at a time, letting it cook in for like 30-60 seconds and stirring up really well before tasting again.

Then it’s finally time to add the kale.

You can see the burner setting as well. It’s just below medium.

Stir the kale in, getting it all mixed into the liquid, and put the lid back on for a couple of minutes. You can load the dishes into the dishwasher that the teenager has hoarded in the bedroom. Just me? Ok then. Moving on.

Isn’t that gorgeous?

Did I mention I also had the bread machine going? I should do a blog post on my newest kitchen toy. (**Makes a mental note to do a blog post on bread machine.)

I serve the soup up with a dollop of sour cream (for the teen, not me, since I have developed lactose intolerance. Grrr.) and a chunk of warm bread fresh out of the bread machine.

I didn’t bother with a pic of the empty bowl but trust me when I say the teen almost licked the bowl clean.

The total time this took me, with kid interruptions and pausing to take pictures was roughly 90 minutes. That included the time spent chopping the veggies, washing and chopping the kale, etc. If my friend had been here to help me with the chopping, instead of going home to her family (*sigh), this would have gone faster.

Let me know if you’ve enjoyed this pictorial play-by-play. And let me know if you want to see more of this. (There’s this neat little comment section down below.) I make no guarantees, but I had fun doing this. So odds are good that I would do it again.