Doughnuts, Soup & Summer

Saturday morning I awoke to a change in the weather that can only be described as sublime. Slipping out from the sheets, goosebumps worked their way up my legs as the chill of a fall breeze blew in through the open window. Oh autumn, I knew you were coming! I promptly brewed a cup of tea, pulled on heavy sweats and sat on my deck listening to Canada geese announcing their departure for warmer climes.

I do not hate summer. But we're not on the best of terms. Consider the following: Humidity makes my hair look terrible. In a fight between a bikini and jeans, jeans always win. Summer dishes are finicky and hard to cook, but stew - who messes up stew?

In other words, summer is like a doughnut. When you get to the bakery on Saturday morning, if it is a respectable bakery, the doughnuts on display were made that same morning. When you bite into one of them, the inside is light and moist. Should you decide to eat the same doughnut when it is a day old, you will find a heavy, dry Twinkie in place of your perfect doughnut. The shelf life of a doughnut is not to be ignored.

Summer has a shelf life, too, and it's non-negotiable. One day, it's perfect. The next, the moment has passed. When this happens, the best thing to do is embrace what's next. I started by having my tea on the deck in sweats, and when the cool weather persisted, I gathered the ingredients for tomato soup.

Some of the best fall memories I have involve tomatoes. My mother has canned stewed tomatoes since time immemorial, and at some point, I joined the messy, inspiring endeavor. You chop tomatoes, green peppers, onions and celery until your hands are raw from the acid and prolonged exposure to moisture. You always have to make sure to cover the chopped onions with tomatoes right after you pour them in the bowl to keep your eyes from stinging, and please avoid cutting your hand when chopping celery.

As I was completing these exact steps to make my fresh tomato soup today, I remembered the smell of all those fresh veggies filling up my mother's kitchen, the bright, hard autumn sun filling the room with light. The whole affair amounted to bottling up summer so that you could pop the lid on it sometime in December and remember what tomatoes really taste like. What a brilliant idea.

I have to say that in recent months, my cooking has regressed. Failed hotdishes and tired recreations of tacos is pretty much all I seem to be able to conjure up these days. So, even though the tomato soup is my mother's recipe, I did not have any certainty about how it would turn out. When it had stewed just long enough, I thickened the broth with flour and added a dollop of sour cream for luck. Carrying it through our skeleton of a kitchen upstairs, I seated myself on the deck to get the full fall effect.

It looked so, so good, but I couldn't trust myself. I let the spoon hover in the air a moment before popping it in my mouth. Oh. My. Gosh. The soup was perfect, and it was all I could do to keep myself from putting the bowl to my face and drinking it down. Mother claims you cannot screw up this recipe, and she is right.

Fresh Tomato Soup

1 cup chopped celery

1/2 cup shredded carrot (or chopped, which is how I like it)

1/3 cup chopped onion

1/3 cup chopped bell pepper (red or green)

1/4 cup butter (don't skimp!)

4 cups peeled, seeded and chopped tomatoes

4 cups chicken broth

4 tsp sugar (white or brown)

1/8 tsp pepper

1/4 tsp curry powder (optional - I didn't use any)

1/4 cup flour

1/2 cup cold water

Cook celery, carrot, onion and bell pepper in butter over medium heat until tender. Add tomatoes, chicken broth, sugar and spices. Bring to a boil; reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, for 20 minutes. Combine flour and water in jar and shake until combined (or, whisk together in a small bowl). Stir this into the soup. Cook and stir one minute more, until thickened.

P.S. Looking for updates on the remodel? I'm writing a column (my first!) about it for our home improvement issue of the Jackson County Pilot newspaper later this month. Stay tuned!