So, originally I declared this week Soup Week, a week in which I would make a different soup each day. Problems arose immediately. The first was the amount of soup, because I planned on making a full pot each night, and there are only two of us here. I don’t have enough room in my freezer (or storage containers) for saving that much leftover soup. The second issue was that I haven’t been feeling well, mentally or physically. So, I began avoiding the kitchen by day two of Soup Week. Finally, none of the soups that I had on the menu were really doing it for me. Initially I was really inspired by the zucchini and pear soup recipe from the NY Times’ Mark Bittman last week, but the more I thought about it, the more repulsed I became. Which is weird, I know, because I’m the person who defends the practice of placing bacon on top warm, melt-y peanut butter on toast. Mere talk of flavor combos aren’t supposed to gross me out considering the words “Try it! You’ll like it!” could be (one of) my mantra(s).

So, now it’s Thursday. I’m still feeling meh, but the kitchen was calling to me. I walked in, proverbial tail between my legs, and said, “Sorry oven and stove top. Sorry tiny counter space. Sorry dishes, new bamboo cutting board, and extra special chef’s knife. I know I promised to hang out with you every day this week. Every day! But, sometimes, and you’re gonna learn this eventually so it might as well be from me, sometimes grown ups break promises.” And then I started dicing onions and slicing potatoes to make a rustic creamy corn and potato soup. Not the corn and chicken chowder you might already be familiar with. Nope, I didn’t use a recipe this time, but did take note of how much of everything I used in order to pass the recipe on. I also crumbled some chicken sausage, fried it, and sprinkled it on as garnish. (What’s with all the chicken sausage on everything? Yeah, so we got this Costco membership . . .)