Happy St. Patrick’s Day! In keeping with my last post about soda bread, here’s a poem that seemed fitting to share on such a holiday as this. This poem began quite randomly. A box of barley went missing in the apartment. Poof. Gone. I searched everywhere to no avail. As no one had eaten it and it’s not like someone would break in just to steal half a box of barley, I jokingly blamed the trolls. I’m a mythology major, I do that. Continue reading
I decided to try my hands at soda bread this week, since I didn’t know what else to do for St. Patrick’s Day, except my yearly rant about all the things we get wrong about St. Patrick’s Day, how St. Patrick wasn’t even Irish, how nobody in America seems to know the Republic of Ireland from Northern Ireland or even Ireland from Scotland, and how St. Brigid was more important for most of Irish history anyway. I vote we all get together on St. Brigid’s Feast Day and eat butter. Lots of butter. So much butter.
But I’m really tired of harping on that every year. So, instead, I put on my Irish/Irish American folk music Pandora station and press-ganged my boyfriend into helping me make soda bread. Continue reading
Over the holidays I obtained a crockpot. Remember that awesome feeling when you were a kid and you got that awesome thing that made everything aweseome forever? I am not afraid to admit that’s how I feel about this crockpot. As I said in the last Stone Soup, I like making soup because it is a healthy way to get salt and veggies and I can hoard it like a dragon playing disability roulette and not worrry about making food on days when standing is hard. However, when making soup on the stovetop, I usually end up on the kitchen floor approximately 1-3 times. The crockpot allows me to throw everything in (just when I would normally have to take a break anyway) and not deal with food again for several hours. Continue reading
If you don’t want to read all of my pseudo-anthropologically-minded ramblings, feel free to scroll down to the actual soup.
A Mythology Major Otherthinking Soup
I grew up in a UU Church where On the Day You Were Born and Stone Soup were childhood staples used in sermons themselves, a shared community mattered much more than a shared creed, and food and fellowship went hand in hand with worship. Holy day rituals were followed by a potluck and a bardic circle. Continue reading