I just gave the kids what they wanted and fixed myself my very own meal.
Neither of the boys (one mine, one borrowed) are picky eaters, but 1. I didn’t feel like the production of cleaning my kitchen so I could make them a meal and 2. I wanted to let them pick as a treat. They ended up choosing a local burger joint and, when we called in the order, I ordered just for them.
As soon as we arrived home, I sent them upstairs with a bag of burgers and fries; I opened the refrigerator and took inventory. Asparagus. Miso. Mushrooms. Avocado. Cheddar. Making a careful choice between the standard avocado, cheese, and cracker board and miso soup, I chose the soup.
See, it’s rainy and also that weird time between meals where you need something, but not too much something. In my rummaging I remembered a few lines from Phyllis Grant’s Food 52 piece recollecting the joy of making a solo lunch. While far from Phyllis, I felt like taking time to actually make something for myself would be a good choice.
It took 5 minutes, tops.
After picking out my prettiest bowl, I pulled two stalks of asparagus, two baby bella mushrooms, and the container of miso from the refrigerator. I kicked the kettle on to boil. I washed and diced the asparagus and mushrooms so they were teeny, teeny, tiny.
I scooped about 1/2 of a big tablespoon of miso from the container and placed it in the bowl.
By this time the water was boiling. I added just a tablespoon or two of water at first to make a slurry. Don’t skip this step – you’ll be stirring forever. Just smoosh up the veg and water and miso paste until it’s evenly distributed. Then, add water to your desired strength.
Please forgive my weirdly lit and placed phone pictures. My house is a mess and I am eh, a little lazy.
Once your soup is prepared, place a cloth napkin or kitchen towel under your bowl and walk into whatever room you want to be in. I chose my living room. And in the time it takes you to turn on Hulu and select the latest episode of your favorite show, your soup will be cool enough to eat.
I often hear the standard “take care of yourself” line, which is always vague and often offensive. It’s the nicer little sister to “I don’t know how you do it.” I always want to tell the deliverer of this message to give me $100 and drive my kid to hockey practice. This five minute miso is my way to say “I do. I do take care of myself.”