Chicken Noodle Soup

James gave me the cold that he and Jacob had last week. I had hoped to avoid it, but refused to stop kissing him. It's my own fault I suppose. As much as being sick sucks, it does have one redeeming quality: chicken noodle soup.

Now, I've been spoiled my whole life with all these natural ingredients and homemade goodness. But you can get the same thing in the can, right? My roommate had a can of "Healthy Choice" chicken noodle soup, boasting 8 grams of protein, 100 calories, and 460 mg of sodium. I decided to compare the ingredients to what I was making in my crockpot. Take a look at this:

Chicken broth, chicken breast with rib meat, carrots, enriched egg noodles (durum wheat flour, water, whole egg solids, egg white solids, niacin, ferrous sulfate, thiamine mononitrate, riboflavin, folic acid), celery, less than 2% of: modified corn starch, flavor, salt, autolyzed yeast extract, sugar, modified rice starch, rendered chicken fat, potassium chloride, isolated soy protein, maltodextrin, guar gum, xanthan gum, sodium phosphate spice, beta carotene citric acid, disodium inosinate, and guanylate.

If you couldn't tell, that was the list of things contained in a one-serving sized can. In my own soup, listed in order they were thrown in the pot:

Onion, garlic, celery, carrots, broccoli, mushrooms, chicken breast (cooked in butter), potatoes, water, salt, spice, egg noodles( unbleached unbromated flour, eggs, water, salt), peas, and corn.

I could see getting picky and saying that I did, in fact, put the chicken fat in when I cut up the cooked breast and dumped it in and some of my spices (I'm looking at you, sodium chloride) may very well be some of those scientific sounding chemical names. But I still like the look of my ingredients much better. It's just what I need to cure what I have.



I also took the opportunity to bake a new loaf of bread. Fresh baked bread is one of my favorite things in the entire world. When times are good, I'm making some every other week. I still had half a loaf left from a week or two ago, but I figured it would be stale by now and I would pour some broth over it to make stuffing. Imagine my delight when I picked up the aluminum foil package and felt the plush bread give way under my strong grasp. Unfortunately, when I unwrapped the loaf, the top had molded over. I suppose I still get a fresh loaf tonight.

I love bread dough. Most people, especially in my generation and of my age group, have never even seen bread in its raw and uncooked form. When my roommate Angela was in the kitchen while I baked, I implored her to try a pinch of dough. She gave it a disgusted look, turned her nose up, and refused to try. I was very surprised! This is a delight, a delicacy even. Today, my roommate Lisa was interested in learning to make it. I asked if she's ever tried the dough. She said no, so I took a pinch and offered her a pinch. She said it tasted good, but I know she doesn't love it as I have loved it. I grew up eating this stuff! My mom made that dough practically every weekend for the entirety of my childhood. It's like home to me.

I guess that's just what cooking it to me. Home. I am greatly saddened that so many people will never know the happiness I know in the kitchen. A lot of friends say their mothers are great chefs and cook so well, and I get very disappointed when I see these ladies in action, opening cans and dumping bags of frozen veggie mixes. Where did all the magic go?

I solemnly vow to keep the magic of freshness, raw ingredients, wholesome cooking, and love of food alive in my kitchen for now and forever until the end of time. Amen.