Tofu and chicken soup










The last of the family pack chicken thighs.

That had its crispy skin picked off and eaten, all of them at once, by a voracious pig.

The sauce is a combination of exotic flavors derived from spices too remote, removed and arcane to mention. 

You shouldn't be troubled with exotic species like coriander and cumin and hot red chile peppers. Ginger and garlic, who keeps those things around? Oops.  

Now the cat's out of the bag, as it were -- who puts a cat in a bag anyway? -- so you might as well have the rest, soy sauce, anchovy paste, chicken broth, butter, sake. I think that was it.

Tofu soaked overnight. A woman I met at a restaurant told me she does that. Man, did she ever go on and on. Told me all about herself. All about all the places she's tried around the area. Named places I hadn't heard of. Knew all their histories. Went on for a good thirty minutes at least, maybe forty-five and never once indicated a single trace of interest in me. Not one single question.  

No comments:

Blog Archive