“Seriously the best split pea soup I’ve ever had.” -Hubby
When that phrase the first thing out of someone’s mouth after savoring the first bite of something you prepared, you are stoked. When the sentiment is maintained throughout the meal, you know you stumbled onto something great and you should scribble down what you did so you can recreate it next time.
The key word in this statement is “stumbled.” Friday morning, both my boys slept in and I got distracted by several news articles. So, as the hubby is finishing his shower and I am shoving the little man into a sweatshirt, I let out a four letter word that I then beg my son not to repeat.
Something about the blue sweatshirt and my rush to get to the gym 30 minutes early reminded me of the ingredients I did not prep for the slower cooker split pea soup we were having for dinner that night.
“He’s yours!” I holler at the hubby as I rush into the kitchen to start chopping and tossing veggies – in a most haphazard, unorganized fashion. Somehow I still have all 10 fingers, though one of my fingernails has seen better days.
Twenty minutes later … all ingredients have successfully landed inside the slow cooker (no pretty prep pictures this time), though exact measurements were not taken. Doesn’t matter, mommy is craving a good workout and there’s nothing a little hot sauce and crusty bread can’t fix, amiright?! Besides, worst case scenario, we have pizza dough, shredded mozzarella, and some not-yet-expired pepperoni slices in the fridge. And, of course, the local gyro joint on speed dial.
Four hours, a quick gym session, and much needed coffee time with my sister later, I arrive home to an intoxicatingly delicious scent of onion, garlic, ham, and yumminess blending together. If it tastes as good as it smells, our cell phones (and credit cards!) get the night off.
Another four hours and it’s done. I have 40 minutes until the boys will be home and want to eat – just enough time to stage and shoot! Not really, but I gave it my best.
Only after the photography was done, the staging cleaned up, and the bowls of soup poured did it register in my pregnant brain that I hadn’t taken even the smallest taste. It could smell divine and taste like a dirty diaper. Obviously, it all worked out and a valuable lesson was learned, trust your gut – and nose!