Blog 58: Courage and Kickass Cookery

Today I decided that nothing sounded better to me than some potato soup. I went in search of recipes here, there, and everywhere. And by that, I mean I looked on Pinterest and then Googled it. Looking for healthier options, I chose the Baked Potato Soup from Skinnytaste. It is definitely a great recipe if you're looking to be all healthy and shee-it. But it is difficult for me to follow any recipe to the letter. It makes me feel...claustrophobic. That' s sort of how I live my life. I once told someone that I am not a perfectionist--I'm an approximitist. I'm sooo copywriting that word. If something is mostly right, I'm happy. I think flaws or weirdness add character--to me as a person, to my delectable quasi-gourmet dishes, or what-have-you. Once I had livened up the recipe (effectively transforming it into something much less healthy, mind you), I fed it to two of my favorite guinea pigs: my boyfriend Tom and his brother, who I call Mr. Benjamin. I think they kind of loved it. (My recipe is posted at the bottom of this blog, by the way) After telling them a couple of the odd things I added toward the end of putting the soup together, Tom, seemingly impressed (and probably legitimately so), said: "I really never would have thought of adding those things to anything." Mr. Benjamin, with somewhat of an indifferent air, added: "I'm not that brave." And it was in this moment that words tumbled out of my mouth, as they often do, that later made me stop and ponder. Without pausing to think, I replied: "Bravery is what makes a good cook." I stand by that. Then I began to consider the thought that courage and a willingness to take risks are necessary for true success in all areas of life.

When I was younger, I was all too concerned with never screwing up. It was kind of a burden, actually.  People had me on a pedestal and I made myself sore teetering and tottering to stay up there. I was so easily embarrassed by the weirdest things. I wanted to be flawless. I wanted to be cool. I remember this one occasion--I think I was somewhere between 10 and 12. My dad took my younger sister Emily and I to the Museum of Appalachia. There was a combination comedy act/bluegrass band playing and they were picking members of the audience at random for a generational "hillbilly-hip hop dance contest" or something silly like that. They picked me and I was so mortified. I don't remember who else was in it besides this goofy middle-aged lady. She had long, bleach blonde hair and was wearing a fanny pack. I recall everyone else participating. The goofy lady won some sort of gift certificate. What did I do? Well, I was too cool for that weird stuff. I stood off to the side and crossed my arms, shaking my head and turning red when my turn came around. I remember my dad cheering me on, encouraging me to just have fun. But I cared too much what other people thought or if I'd look like a dork. It sounds silly, maybe, but even with all the stupid or horrible mistakes I've made, not dancing that day is one of my biggest regrets. I regretted being a snotty brat, I regretted disappointing my dad and not making him laugh, and I regretted not winning us gift certificates. We weren't exactly rolling in money. When I got a little older and thought back on that day, it made me ache a little. I suppose that sounds dramatic. It wasn't so much the incident in itself as much as the precedent it set for my teenage years of being petulant and pathetic. I missed out on so many awesome opportunities simply because I wasn't brave enough to take advantage of them.

I can't say I'm the most courageous person right now. There are times when I'm quiet when I should speak and there are times when I shy away from the spotlight when I could truly shine. However, I can gladly say that I love a good risk. Whether it's fearlessly concocting a delicious dinner or just following my heart and dating or befriending the people I want despite popular opinion or even telling some guy off for leering at someone on girl's night out, I like to blaze trails. I want to really harness that bravery and expand it. Blah blah, I sound so after school special. I'm just saying--I'm tired of people being big fat chickens! Guys silently pine after the girls they want, no moves made, and then complain or cry when those ladies end up in some other guy's arms. Girls let guys treat them like worthless sluts because they're too afraid of not being liked to stand up for themselves. People make bland food because they don't have the cajones to throw in an ingredient that might completely ruin things. The list goes on, ya know? Just...everyone stop being so scared. It certainly doesn't enrich your life at all. And it's not something you want to infect the people around you with. That's how mindless mobs happen. That's how pointless wars happen. That's probably how things like UGG boots and the popularity of Twilight originated. And do you want that kind of evil in your life? I don't. I just don't. Cowboy up, people. Cowboy up.

Haylee's Kickass Potato Soup

• 2 russet potatoes, washed and dried
• 4 red potatoes (best if previously sliced and broiled with olive oil and Montreal Steak Seasoning)
• 1 small head of cauliflower, stem removed cut into florets
• 1 8-ounce can fat free chicken broth
• 2 cups 1% reduced-fat milk
• salt and freshly cracked black pepper, paprika
• 1 8-ounce container reduced fat sour cream
• 1 large block extra sharp cheddar cheese, grated
• 6 tbsp chopped chives, divided
• 2 T Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing
• 1 T Dijon Mustard
• 10 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled

Pierce potatoes with a fork; microwave on high for 5 minutes turn over and microwave another 3 - 5 minutes, until tender. 

Meanwhile, boil cauliflower with water in a large covered pot until tender. Drain and place in a large bowl. Add chicken broth, milk, and sour cream. Puree in blender. (You'll probably have to do it in two halves so as not to overfill the blender. That's why I recommend putting it in a bowl first). Return pot, with the pureed mixture, to the stove. Adding the cheese and potatoes, bring to a boil. Stir in half of the chives. At this point, add the seasonings, Dijon Mustard, and Ranch. I only used the salt, black pepper, and paprika, but remember--take risks. Use different herbs/spices if you like. I bet cayenne pepper would be nice. I let it simmer, stirring occasionally, for about 10 more minutes to really let the flavors meld together.

It should kind of look like this:

Remove from heat. Ladle soup into each bowl. Top each serving with remaining chives and bacon.

Yeah...it's pretty glorious. Enjoy and ignore the fact that it's now only a more nutritious fat kid soup.