Jake and I made soup this weekend. No, wait. Jake made soup while I watched. I was all, "Hey, I've never made chicken dumpling soup, do you know how to do it?" and he was all, "Hell yeah!" The trouble is, his kitchen workspace is very small. I watched him dissect whole chickens and chop up bones. Then I watched him dice onions. Then, I insisted on doing something, so I chopped up the carrots and celery. Then, he added water and put it on the stove. Then, we (usually he) wandered into the kitchen every few minutes to remove the excess fat. Then, I went to bed, and Jake finished with the removing of fat.

I felt kind of bad. If I had known how much of a pain in the ass chicken stock is, I would have suggested we make something else.

The next day, we decided dumplings were just too much of a pain in the ass, and we should just do chicken noodle instead. We bought more veggies, and fresh herbs. I watched Jake strain out all the old veggies and bits of chicken carcass. Then I watched Jake chop new veggies, and the pieces of chicken that hadn't gone in the stock. Then, I watched Jake throw all sorts of crazy herbs and spices into the pot. Then it simmered some more, and then we ate it.

Damn, that was some yummy soup. I don't think I can ever enjoy that chartreuse-colored "chicken" soup the same way again. For I have seen the true face of chicken stock, and it is actually almost clear, and oh so very tasty. I probably will never ever make it on my own, but a weekend hanging out with the Jake is always a weekend well spent.

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