MY First Comfort Food Recipe

Always incorporating food
into our adventures -
Homemade ice cream at the
Knoxville Farmers' Market

I enjoy cooking, serving, and eating food. Heck, I even enjoy incorporating food into my other hobbies - like reading cookbooks or cooking magazines, or you know, writing this very blog. Despite all of that interest, love, and time, I was still disappointed in my relationship with food because something was lacking: an achievement I hadn't quite reached. 

There are lots of things I love to cook and that I make well, but I'd never call them "mine." I've longed for "my" recipes. You know, the ones that when my Baby is grown, he'll call and say "Mom, how do you make your ...?" and I'll pull out a raggedy stained recipe - that I no longer use, because it's pure muscle memory now - to hand off to him. 

I think most people have that kind of food association with the people they love. There's some recipe that will always be associated with, and tasted best when prepared by, your nana, husband, mama, or next-door neighbor. It might be from scratch, semi-homemade, or maybe even take-out they served in just the right way. 

My dad has a gift for cooking outstanding fried chicken. He uses boneless chicken breast tenders for these "Daddy Nuggets." They're best served with rice, gravy, and tiny "baby biscuits" (which are mine ONLY; y'all eat the full-sized ones). Or maybe his best dish is his "Daddy Burgers" (Seeing a pattern here? Only child + Daddy's girl); they're better than any restaurant burger I've ever had. 

Mom makes the best tomato + Velveeta baked pasta (sorry, no affectionate name here. I called it "Barf" as a kid, for looks alone). And her beef stroganoff is humble, simple, and THE BOMB. Despite all logic, Dad's attempts to elevate it with homemade sauce and fresh peppers fall short. 

And J makes the best meatballs. Period. The funny thing is, they're from his Mamaw's recipe, but she has zero recollection of every making them...so they're certainly his now!

But I wanted MY recipes. Things Baby will specifically request, like I do with beef strogranoff: "No, Dad; I want Mama to make it!"

Sunday at The Summit

First, I wanted my own chili recipe. I was raised on - you guessed it - my Dad's chili. Every winter, he'd get out the gigantic pasta pot (now the electric turkey roaster - efficiency, y'all) to make gallons of chili. We'd freeze it and eat homemade chili year-round. Then, I married J who had his own distinct and delicious recipe. And we're members of a church whose core tenants are: 1. The Great Commandment, 2. The Great Commission and 3. January = Chili Cook-Off time. So, I've seen the depth and breadth of the definition of chili. And how attached folks are to their chili. There are hardcore camps: beans vs. no beans, beef vs.turkey vs. veggie vs. venison, spicy vs. mild; and Lord, all the secret ingredients!

The good news is, after much tinkering, I've found MY chili recipe. However, I'm not sharing that with you today. The Cook-Off is this Sunday and I'm not giving these goods away. Who knows, maybe I'll report back with my "prize-winning" recipe. 

Next, I wanted to have a signature comfort food. I know this is a broad category covering all types/courses/flavors of food. I want it to be something Baby and Hubs request when they're sick or had a rough day or just need a reminder of a warm, loving home. And I've found it, perhaps in the most cliche, comforting sick-day food: chicken noodle soup! 

My lil' star face! 

Baby is an adventurous eater and will try anything, but this kid LOVES soup. Maybe it's the fun slurpy    noise or the warmth or his lazy refusal to chew,    but this first time I made this, he cried until I fed it to him, straight from the pot...for breakfast. And I don't blame him, it's delicious. 

Instead of long noodles like Campbell's or egg noodles, this recipe uses the cutest pasta option: stars! The original recipe is designed for "pastina," a generalized name for the smallest pasta shapes. There are a variety of teeny tiny shapes, but I prefer stelline pastina, shaped like itty bitty stars. Using pastina is obviously adorable, but adds great texture to the soup, too. The veggies are all similar tiny cuts which makes for a better mouthfeel. And c'mon, we all need a bowl of whimsy sometimes. (See PRO TIP below.)

I used a hunk of this 5 lb. Grana Padana cheese I won
in a Splendid Table drawing. I've frozen hunks of it for
recipes just like this that need a little fancy cheese. 

The soup is incredibly quick (less than 30 minutes) and easy to prepare (under 10 ingredients), but has deep developed flavors. You saute the trinity (carrots, celery, onions), then add thyme, chicken broth (see PRO TIP below) and the secret ingredient: a 2-inch piece of Parmesan rind. That may sound bizarre, but it adds a great nuttiness and saltiness, making your soup taste like it simmered for hours. If you can't get Parmesan rind, be sure to garnish your bowls with grated Parmesan. But I highly recommend the rind; grocery stores with an actual cheese counter normally sell rind for fairly cheap (and it keeps in the freezer for ages). Or, kill two birds with one stone and splurge on a little wedge and use every inch of the cheese. 

This was originally a meat-less recipe (could be vegetarian, if you swap in veggie broth), but the first time I made it, I tossed in leftover rotisserie chicken - GAME CHANGER. We buy chicken a lot - even the cuts we don't normally prepare for entrees - just to shred for enchiladas, soups, curries, or chicken salad. Grocery stores normally mark down rotisserie chickens in the evening, which we'll occasionally buy, shred and freeze in two-cup servings. Shredded chicken is certainly one of our pantry (freezer) staples and fits this dish so well. Makes it a little more filling, but not heavy, and adds extra texture, too. 

When you're looking for a simple dinner-in-a-hurry that tastes like low-and-slow comfort food, this soup is just right. But be sure to give me credit; it is MINE, after all.