You know those weeks when everyone you love is either bleeding, cursed, exhausted, hungry in a supernatural way, or saying “I’m fine” with the confidence of someone who is obviously not fine?
For me, that is apparently just life now.
So when I can't sleep, I get out of bed, cross the pool house, turn on the hot plate, and make soup.
Because I cannot make Marcus stop getting hurt.
I cannot make Lemon stop being hungry.
I cannot make Vic stop carrying everything by herself.
I cannot make Cassian become normal, which at this point feels like an unreasonable goal anyway.
But I can chop an onion.
I can make broth.
I can put something warm in a bowl and hand it to somebody and say, please, please just take this one thing from me.
It is the soup.
The actual soup.
The batch I was stress-making at home in the pool house, on one increasingly overworked hot plate, instead of sleeping.
The one I stirred at 3:00 in the morning three feet from where I sleep while trying not to think about anything.
The one where I finally remembered to cook the onions before adding the garlic.
The magic apparently just goes: oh, she already made healing soup. great. grab that.
Which means I now have the most emotionally complicated one-burner meal-prep system in Rhode Island.
What I've Learned About Making SoupAround here lately:
I have apparently become the person who asks everyone whether they have eaten, gets told “I’m fine” by people who are visibly bleeding or cursed, and then responds by putting another pot on the hot plate. School is technically also happening.
5. A hot plate only has one burner, so plan the order.
This is my whole kitchen. There is no second burner hiding somewhere.
If the noodles need a separate pot, they either happen before the soup or after it.
The stockpot cannot simply “move to the back burner” because there is no back burner.
There is the burner. Singular.
I have apparently become the person who asks everyone whether they have eaten, gets told “I’m fine” by people who are visibly bleeding or cursed, and then responds by putting another pot on the hot plate. School is technically also happening.
This is my whole kitchen. There is no second burner hiding somewhere. If the noodles need a separate pot, they either happen before the soup or after it. The stockpot cannot simply “move to the back burner” because there is no back burner. There is the burner. Singular.
If you are also the kind of person who thought soup was just “put wet ingredients together until warm,” here are the things I have recently learned against my will.
This is called mirepoix, which sounds fake but is apparently one of the foundational concepts of cooking. Cook it gently in a little fat until the vegetables soften and the kitchen starts smelling like somebody's mother knows what she is doing.
Garlic is delicate. I had previously been treating it as a main ingredient. Add it after the vegetables have softened, stir until fragrant, and then move on before it becomes bitter little gravel.
Broth already tastes like something. Water mostly tastes like a decision you will have to compensate for later.
Tiny bubbles. Gentle heat. The soup should look comfortable. It should not look like it is attempting escape.
Carrots and potatoes need time. Greens do not. Noodles are especially treacherous and will cross from “not done” to “building material” while you are looking away.
Salt slowly. Pepper slowly. A little lemon juice can rescue something flat. More garlic is not technically a personality.
This has all been very humbling.
I used to think recipes were suggestions written by people with control issues.
I now own measuring spoons.
Please respect my privacy during this difficult time.
Why I Make So Much
A lot of recipe blogs tell you this is a “perfect weeknight meal for the whole family.”
Mine is apparently a perfect 3:00 a.m. meal for a collection of exhausted people with extremely concerning medical histories.
I keep making too much because chopping is quiet.
Stirring is repetitive.
Soup gets better when I pay attention to it.
People don't always.
So I make another batch.
Then somebody gets hurt and I summon a bowl of it across town like the world's least glamorous emergency catering service.
- onions
- carrots
- celery
- broth
- potatoes
- noodles
- lemons
- butter
- garlic
- bay leaves — some for soup, some for luck
- more containers
- something Lemon can actually eat
- ask Vic if she needs anything
- ask Marcus if the hot plate is SUPPOSED to make that noise
- do not let Marcus install industrial equipment
- remember Cassian is technically a guest even when he acts like he owns the place
- DO NOT BUY ALCOHOL
- Jessica: eat literally one normal meal please
- more broth because apparently this is medicine now
- something Marcus will actually eat before he decides raw meat counts
- something Lemon can eat that is NOT A PERSON
- ask Vic if she has eaten TODAY not 'recently'
- something Cassian cannot call 'serviceable mortal broth'
- more thermos liners
- tell everyone I love them when nobody is actively bleeding
- figure out how to make them actually take the soup when I give it to them
Jessica's Batch Log: 01 → 15
Apparently if you keep making soup every time your friends almost die, eventually you get better at soup. This is not how I wanted to learn.
Made because Lemon looked tired and I had no idea what else to do. Mostly hot water. Onion somehow raw and burnt.
Made after somebody said they were fine in a tone that meant the exact opposite. Added too much salt, then too much water.
Made because Marcus was hurt again. Learned broth exists. Massive technological advancement.ECHO // COMPOSITION NOTE: dissolved amino acids, minerals, and proteins are measurably higher than in the water-based batches.
Made at 3:00 a.m. because I could hear everyone through the link and nobody sounded okay. Burned the garlic.
First real mirepoix. I was trying to make enough for everybody. I made enough for a small shelter.
Finally learned to simmer. This was the first batch that felt like food instead of an emergency response.ECHO // COMPOSITION NOTE: lower thermal agitation preserved vegetable structure and reduced starch breakdown.
Made specifically because Lemon was struggling. He said it helped. I am choosing to believe this was about the soup.
Made after another night of not sleeping because somebody needed something and I could not figure out what. Noodle disaster.
Noodles stored separately. One less thing to go wrong when I need to get food into somebody quickly.ECHO // COMPOSITION NOTE: starch migration into the broth decreased sharply once noodles were stored separately.
Added lemon juice because the soup tasted flat. Also because I needed to fix something and this was fixable.
Burned one bay leaf for luck before starting. Used a different bay leaf in the soup. I am taking all available advantages.ECHO // COMPOSITION NOTE: combustion residue successfully excluded from the culinary batch. Bay-derived volatile compounds remain present.
Scaled the batch down because apparently making enough for everybody does not mean making enough for an evacuation center.
First batch I tasted and did not immediately panic-adjust. I was very busy worrying about literally everyone else.
First batch I would hand somebody without apologizing first. This felt more important than it should have.
Summoned during an emergency. I gave them soup. I told them I loved them. Nobody ate the soup.ECHO // COMPOSITION NOTE: magical transfer produced no measurable loss in salt, lipid, starch, or protein distribution.
Pool House Magic Healing Soup
Cozy, savory, beginner-friendly soup made at home in the pool house on one hot plate, usually in an enormous stress-induced batch and suitable for magical emergency delivery.
Ingredients
- 1 onion, diced
- 2–3 carrots, diced
- 2 celery stalks, diced
- 2 tablespoons butter or oil
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 6–8 cups broth
- 2 potatoes, chopped
- cooked chicken, beans, or whatever protein is currently emotionally manageable
- thyme
- 1 bay leaf
- salt and black pepper
- noodles, cooked separately if storing
- a squeeze of lemon if it tastes flat
- healing magic, apparently
Instructions
- Make sure the hot plate is on a stable surface with nothing flammable crowded around it. This is a home, a bedroom, a pool house, and apparently a kitchen, so counter space is a diplomatic issue.
- Set the hot plate to medium. Heat butter or oil in the stockpot, then add onion, carrot, and celery. Cook until softened. Do not turn the dial all the way up because you are upset.
- Add garlic and stir for about 30 seconds, until fragrant. Do not become distracted by how good it smells.
- Add broth, potatoes, herbs, and bay leaf.
- Bring just to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer gently until the potatoes and carrots are tender.
- Add cooked protein and any softer vegetables near the end.
- Taste. Add salt slowly. Add pepper. If it feels heavy or flat, try a small squeeze of lemon.
- Before the soup is finished, burn one dry bay leaf in a fireproof dish for luck. Make the wish quietly, let the leaf burn out completely, and do not drop the ash into the pot. The bay leaf simmering in the soup is a separate bay leaf.
- Remove the bay leaf. This step is apparently not optional.
- If storing the soup, portion it into smaller containers so the pool house refrigerator is not trying to cool one enormous pot of lava.
- Because there is only one hot plate, cook noodles either before starting the soup and set them aside, or after the soup comes off the burner. Keep them separate until serving if you do not want them to drink every molecule of broth overnight.
- Stress-make additional batches in pool house as needed.
- During supernatural emergency, summon prepared soup to injured friend.
- Become personally offended if they refuse it.
We have had such a full week around here! Marcus is doing Marcus things, Lemon is trying not to become a cautionary tale, Vic is taking care of everybody except herself, and I am standing over a stockpot like that counts as a plan!
Things have been a little hectic at home lately, which is a cute way to say I am sleeping next to a hot plate and waking up to stir broth because I am worried somebody I love is going to need it.
If your week is anything like mine, you may also have five people saying they do not need help while visibly needing help. This is a great time to chop onions because onions at least admit when they are making you cry.
Back-to-school season is always such a transition! Especially when school is not remotely the biggest problem in your life and you are mostly trying to keep everyone fed, healed, and not eaten!
I love a recipe that can be made ahead because sometimes your friends do not schedule their emergencies around dinner, which I personally think is inconsiderate.
One thing I love about cooking is that there are rules. If the soup is too salty, there is a reason. If my friends are falling apart, apparently there are twelve reasons and nobody will tell me all of them.
I am currently pretending that chopping vegetables counts as having a plan, which is going surprisingly well.
My hot plate is carrying this household emotionally, spiritually, and thermally.
I keep making enough soup for everyone because apparently my response to fear is portion control in reverse.
Nobody is allowed to say they are 'fine' within six feet of this stockpot unless they are also holding a bowl.
The good news is I am getting better at soup. The bad news is I am getting better because everyone keeps giving me reasons to practice.
This week has been really busy between school, magic, everybody getting hurt, everybody insisting they are fine, and me apparently becoming the only person in Foxglove who thinks eating a normal meal is still a useful idea!
We have had such a full week around here! Marcus is doing Marcus things, Lemon is trying not to become a cautionary tale, Vic is taking care of everybody except herself, and I am standing over a stockpot like that counts as a plan!
Things have been a little hectic at home lately, which is a cute way to say I am sleeping next to a hot plate and waking up to stir broth because I am worried somebody I love is going to need it.
Create-A-Soup Machine
Can't sleep? Neither can Jessica. Press the button and let one hot plate, one stockpot, and several bad decisions determine what gets made next.
Click the button. Accept your fate.
Substitutions & Emergency Swaps
Add extra carrot or onion. The soup police will not come.
White beans, chickpeas, lentils, or leftover beef are all fine.
Rice, barley, tiny pasta, or potatoes. Do not let the absence of noodles become a personal crisis.
Water works, but you will have to add more flavor yourself. This is where herbs become employed.
A tiny splash of vinegar can wake up a flat soup. Tiny means tiny.
The soup will survive. The luck ritual will not. Decide which problem is more urgent.
This recipe is no longer qualified to assist.
Do not improvise a meat substitute using anything that had a name yesterday.
Finish cooking before beginning that conversation.
Ask what “optimize” means before agreeing to anything.
That is outside the scope of this blog. Please close the hot plate.
Frequently Asked Questions
Can I substitute water for broth?
Yes, but I have done this and then spent forty minutes desperately putting flavor back into the pot. I am trying to protect you from myself.
How much garlic should I use?
The official answer is probably three cloves. My answer has historically been “until I feel safer.” We are working toward the official answer.
Can I cook the noodles directly in the soup?
If everyone is eating it immediately, yes. If you are leaving a stockpot beside your bed in the pool house because you cannot sleep, no. Trust me.
Does Jessica eat the healing soup?
No. Next question.
Does it actually heal people?
Magically, yes. Emotionally, results remain mixed.
Reader Comments
jess did you remember to turn off your hot plate?
DELETE THIS
no ♡
soup was good
THANK YOU
i said it helped
THIS COUNTS AS A FIVE STAR REVIEW
In my world such food is traditionally served after funerary rites. Yours is less complex.
cassian you cannot call my soup "less complex" and be afraid of water.
you know you can just buy soup right
YOU HAVE A TATTOO THAT MAKES YOU THROW UP LEECHES AND THIS IS WHERE YOU DRAW THE LINE
yeah because canned soup is shelf stable
if you bring this to rehearsal put hot sauce in it
no because last time you said "a little" and turned my food into a chemical weapon
seconding hot sauce
thirding hot sauce
VALUE MENU HAS LOST COMMENTING PRIVILEGES
Sweetlin', have you ever tried serving it cold?
DAPHINE NO
Just brainstorming, baby. Could do a bisque. Little peppermint garnish.
GET OFF MY RECIPE BLOG
We sell chicken stock by the case. Ask about our bulk discount.
why does russo's general have an account
Family business.
can you cater next friday
LAST TIME I WENT TO A MUSIC EVENT PEOPLE GOT EATEN
is that a no
CONGRATULATIONS! You have been selected for a FREE FAMILY MEAL UPGRADE during your next visit to Bonus Action Park! Restrictions apply. Offer not valid during dimensional collapse, mind wipe, fire, or Tuesdays.
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We found a roll of film labeled "SOUP???" behind the counter. Please pick it up.
don't develop that
VIC WHAT DID YOU PHOTOGRAPH
soup
Foxgle: magical minestrone? when noodles.
Jessica, you have improved the sodium balance in the most recent batch by approximately seventeen percent.
thank you :)
who is poolhouseguest
nobody
jessica
THIS IS A SOUP BLOG
why are there twelve containers of soup in the pool house
meal prep
for who
EVERYONE STOP ASKING QUESTIONS AND EAT THE SOUP
you have an entire kitchen just in your house and you use a hot plate?
IT IS A VERY GOOD HOT PLATE
i can wire you a second outlet
YOU ARE NOT TURNING MY BEDROOM INTO A COMMERCIAL KITCHEN
wasnt gonna say commercial
for the record i did summon healing soup during an active emergency and none of you ate it
i ALSO said i loved you