Irish Vegetable Soup

irish soup

There are experiences that move you. There are moments when you know. There are times when you take a leap and jump into the wide unknown beyond, certain you will be forever changed. On a particularly sodden and blustery day in the late winter of 2008, I knew. I was flying through the streets towards home from school on my bike, soaking wet, and mad at the never-ending Oregon rain. I slammed into our house, made straight for the fireplace where my roommate was curled up reading, threw down my bag, and proclaimed, “I am going to Ireland.”

And I did. Twice. Confidently. Decisively. Never-faltering in my belief that I just needed to be there. Experiencing.

Often, in the tiny spaces in between all the moments that make up each day, I catch myself. I look back at a fragment of time when the whole world was laid out and I knew my course. I knew how to make what I wanted happen, and the making it so came effortlessly.

There are only a handful of moments that I have experienced the kind of certainty I felt then. All the other days, I will myself to know which direction, which passion, which experience. Which one is the one?

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I often feel that our lives are meant to be permanately hazy in the living. Some days are fogged in. Other days the sun comes out, there is a clear way forward, and it becomes spring again in our souls.

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I am beginning to accept this nature of things; I am beginning too, to accept myself in the unknowing. After all, in both certainty and indecision, there is much beauty, and that, I think, should be lingered upon and celebrated.

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Irish Vegetable Soup
Recipe Updated: 3/2023
 
This simple pureed vegetable soup is a comfort I seek in the harried moments when I crave simplicity. It is one of the meals I ate repeatedly in Ireland. It is ever on the menu at both small, quick cafes  or pubs, and nicer restaurants, always served with a slice or two of brown bread. It fills and warms you up, and can contain whatever sorts of vegetables you have on hand. This recipe makes a large batch, enough for 5-7 servings.  meals.
 
small handful of dried porcini mushrooms
small handful of parsley, roughly chopped
4-5 sprigs fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
3/4 cup gluten-free quick oats
2 Tbs. olive oil
3 medium leeks, white and light parts, sliced
1 medium onion, chopped
1-2 carrots, peeled and sliced
2 celery stalks, diced
2 tsp. tamari
salt and pepper, to taste
6 cups of water
1 clove garlic, minced
1  pound yellow potatoes, diced 
2 medium turnips, peeled and diced
2 cups green cabbage, diced
1 tsp. apple cider vinegar
 
  1. Grind the porcini mushrooms in a spice grinder. Measure out 2 teaspoons of the resulting powder. Save the rest for another batch of soup.
  2. Toast the oats in a small pan over medium heat, stirring frequently, until fragrant and they become golden. Transfer them to a bowl to cool.
  3. In a large pot, heat the oil over medium heat. Add leeks, onion, carrots, celery, 1/3 cup water, tamari, and 1 tsp. salt. Cook this mixture, stirring it occasionally, until the liquid has evaporated and the onion and celery have softened a bit. You may need to add a little water in this process.
  4. Stir in the ground mushrooms and oats. Add the water, herbs, and garlic. Increase the heat and bring the mixture to a boil. Then reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer for about 20 minutes.
  5. Add the potatoes, turnips, and cabbage. Return the mixture to a simmer and cook an additional 20 minutes, or until the potatoes and turnips are soft.
  6. Stir in the vinegar and season to taste with additional salt and pepper. Turn off the heat, and let cool slightly.
  7. If you’d like a completely smooth and creamy soup, puree it in a blender, working in batches. Or puree half and leave the other half chunky.
  8.  This is delicious, but necessary, with a good hearty bread.
  9. Notes:  Other Irish Recipes that might be included in your St. Patrick’s Day Festivities include Brown Soda Bread, Shepherd’s Pie, or Hearty Winter Curry Pie. Sláinte!
 
 

Olive-Raisin Roasted Cauliflower

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Standing over the cutting board, slicing olive flesh off the pits, I am drawn to contemplation once more.  My heart has felt heavy these last few weeks. For me, late winter has typically been a time of drawing in, folding the blankets of life around me, closing the curtains, blocking out drafts.  For whatever reason, this time of year leads me to risk less, to soak in my quiet hours of solitude, to ignore phone calls and invitations.  I have fallen into this pattern once more, and am in need of getting out of my head, putting my energy to use on a cause less related to my own.  I am reminded of my current tasks, the most important to listen for answers, though the urgency of the everyday often fiddles the knobs on my ears and speeds up the actions of my feet.

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Yesterday was a warm and sunny late-winter afternoon. School was finally out for the week, spring break just around the corner. Ready for some dialing in to the right listening frequency and slowing down of the feet, I longingly looked out the window, ready to feel the sun.

One of my students walked in and in the space of only a few minutes, a forceful acknowledgement fell suddenly into my lap.

There are lives more challenged; basic needs going unmet. My own circle of worries bumps into other circles that are stretched further, weighted far heavier than my own.

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In this moment, I willingly set aside my worries of the day-to-day. I set aside the fact that I cannot control the actions and decisions of others. I’m drawn back to focus on listening. Though I wish it weren’t so, these things, tough situations for undeserving people, happen for a reason.

Time, patience, understanding. Smoothing the blankets. Opening the curtains to let in the light, thoughts flow brighter filtered through golden rays.

There it is, spring is on it’s way.

Olive-Raisin Roasted Cauliflower, adapted from Plenty

Juice from half an orange
1/2 a head of cauliflower, chopped
1/2 a medium onion, chopped
1/4 cup mixed olives, pitted and diced
1 large or 2 small bay leaves
1/4 cup raisins
1 1/2 Tbs. garlic-infused olive oil
Sea salt and ground black pepper, to taste
small handful fresh parsley, minced
  • Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.  In an medium-size oven-proof casserole dish, pour in the orange juice.  Toss in the remaining ingredients, except the parsley. Cover with foil and transfer to the oven. 
  • Bake for about 40 minutes, or until the cauliflower is tender, but still a bit firm.
  • Take from the oven, uncover, and allow to cool down for a few minutes.  Stir in the parsley, and adjust seasoning as needed.
  • Serve warm or at room temperature.