Winter Soup: Brandi's Tomato Soup

My sorority house often served the comfort food combo of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup on a cold day.  I loved it. Still do.

So, as uncreative as I am in the kitchen, I knew I wanted to figure out how to make my own heart-warming goodness. Most people say they create tasty recipes "through trial and error."  Not this girl.  I completely goofed and accidentally added some things and forgot other things because I tried to remember how to make a soup after reading a couple of different recipes.

No one could be more surprised than I was to discover how yummy my mistakes tasted!

All of these ingredients are readily available at my house.

Brandi's Tomato Soup

Ingredients
onion (red or yellow work)
stick of butter
3 cans diced or whole tomatoes
2 cups chicken broth
1 TBS. tarragon
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 cup of sour cream (pure cream tastes good, too)

• Dice onions and cook them in butter until clear. If you cook them until they begin to brown, well, that works, too.
• Add tomatoes and chicken broth and tarragon.
• Boil. Stir occasionally. Simmer about 40 minutes.
• Add sour cream and mix with your fancy emulsion mixer until smooth.

Special trick
Whole tomatoes work better than the diced if you use the emulsion mixer.  If you've ever slightly lifted the mixer to try to mix up those little diced pieces, then you know what happened. Yep. It looked like someone had stepped on a ketchup packet and splattered it everywhere.

Complete Magical Meal Suggestion
What pairs better with tomato soup than grilled cheese?  The other night I used heart-shaped cookie cutters on the grilled cheese. Everyone was happy.  For a little luncheon with friends, toss a bag of Caesar salad and cook up some frozen mini quiche. Add the grilled cheese sandwiches and cupcakes for a tea party with a cozy, comfort food feel.

Enjoy!

Check back next Tuesday when Valerie Lawson will help us get into the St. Patrick's Day mood with some potato soup!

Friday Favorite: Sooner Born and Sooner Bred

My husband and I met at the University of Oklahoma, so our kids truly are "Sooner born and Sooner bred."

We were excited when my hubby and dad took Max to his first football game.

 

They tailgated.

 

They gave Max popcorn and Cheetos for dinner.

 

 They saw the Sooner Schooner.

They hung out in the stands. 

They hung out a long time in the stands because it stormed and the game was delayed.  They learned that a kitchen trash bag makes a good poncho for a three year old, but not a grown man. They decided to come home before the game ever began.  But that's okay.  Max had a great time. He doesn't know the Sooners ended their winning streak, and he doesn't know he didn't see them actually play.  As far as he knows, he had the full experience. And he loved it.

Let the indoctrination begin!

Friday Favorite: Miss(ed) Oklahoma

Although she is queen of her domain, my friend Jennifer lives in a neighborhood of princesses and a home of four princes.  When a queen summons, I do her bidding.

She invited me to attend the Miss Oklahoma pageant in Tulsa to support her lovely neighbors. One was contestant Emily Ousley and the other was her "Oklahoma Star," a program in which little girls are mentored by contestants. They were both lovely.

Plus, I saw two OU Tri-Deltas were in the running, so I got all collegiate nostalgic. 

Although we almost missed the pageant.

On the way there, Jen said, "If anyone were with us, they'd kill us."

Yep.  But it was hilarious.

After spending an afternoon with me driving us to pedicures and tea at Dragonmoon Tea Company, Jennifer insisted on driving. She activated her On Star and said, "You have to get this."

Clearly, she didn't yet comprehend the magnitude of my geographical challenges. Like the Bermuda Triangle, my curse soon reached out and grabbed her.  We barreled down the interstate, following the instructions, and encountered a giant "CLOSED" sign plastered across our route.  I laughed at her surprise. This sort of thing always happened to me. She called and gathered new directions. We were to turn on 11th street. Guess what? We were at an intersection where both signs said 11th street. I kid you not. These things happen to me all the time. It's a gift.

The pageant began at 7:30. The rain began at 8:04.  We arrived in the parking lot at 8:08. As we raced toward the Mabee Center, a woman eyeballed us.   I called, "Did we miss the good part?" (Since I've never attended a pageant, I didn't know what that would be, but certainly there is one.)  She encouraged us to hurry because we'd missed the opening number and they were about to announce the top 15.

We never found our seats, but we caught a lot of the show.

In fact, I fear we were part of the show. A pregnant lady in heels.  A tired mom of three under three lugging a good-natured four-month-old. We found seats near her friends at one point, but because Baby J wasn't fond of classical music in the talent competition, we courteously sped out. Let me restate that...Jennifer was courteous. I'm pretty sure I bonked some poor guy on the head with both my purse and her diaper bag.

While watching the swimsuit competition from the aisle, an older gentleman must have been impressed with the soon-to-be crowned Betty Thompson.  He looked me up and down. "Those girls don't understand women don't look like that after thirty."  Hackles raised, I threw my shoulders back and pregnant belly forward.  "Speak for yourself.  After I had my first baby, I looked just like that." I patted my tummy. "You ought to see me next summer when I'm through with this one." 

He had the nerve to grimace like he didn't believe me.

To his credit, I checked myself out in the mirror before I left for the evening and thought remember when someone told you you looked hot, and you knew they weren't thinking you needed an air conditioner and glass of iced tea?

Still... Even queen mothers should be treated with respect or they can be be a royal pain.