Come for Soup

I promised this wasn't going to be a cooking blog and it's not. BUT.....remember that fable Stone Soup from childhood?  Yes that one! The ultimate farce where selfish villagers are tricked into being hospitable, giving and kind with the promise of soup magically made from just stones!
Disclaimer: I don't make stone soup. I do however make lots of scrap broth.

Scrap Broth

The thing is we in the Kalish home love soup. It's economical, it's healthy, it's delicious. As any chef will tell you, every good soup starts with stock, a broth etc. In the good old US of A I was spoiled by Trader's Joes, Imagine and Tabatchnick boxed broths. These don't exist in Israel. What does exist is a huge variety of MSG powders in every color of the rainbow. Enter scrap broth, otherwise know as what Shulamit does with all those veg peels, tops, tails and otherwise less desirable/edible parts of vegetables instead of composting. Not that I'm opposed to composting. Composting is great. But for us in the concrete jungle of Jerusalem scrap broth just makes so much more sense. 

So come for soup, fennel soup, carrot dill soup, tomato roasted red pepper or mushroom red lentil. We're here!

The Best Mother

When my son was born, one of my sister-in-laws said "Remember, no matter what, YOU ARE A GOOD MOTHER!". I have to repeat this to myself every waking nano second of every day and some sleeping nano seconds besides.
Today for example, I sat for what seemed like the nth time, making my way home with my screaming one year old on the bus. Screaming ceaselessly because he hadn't had his afternoon nap in his crib, screaming because he had been in a stroller for too many hours, screaming because my poor little guy was just so past his limit. All I could do was sit and offer lullabies, cuddles and bottles for the duration of 40 minutes while he screamed and flailed.  I could feel the eyes of elderly grandmothers, young school girls and boys and middle aged working class men boaring into me and accusing me of ruining their ride and not being a better mother.
In reality I know this is only in my head. People are sympathetic even if overtired piercing screams are not on their checklist of a pleasant bus ride. People don't actually think I am bad mother. Heck they don't know me. Yet haven't we all had those moments. Forgoing the afternoon nap to get the grocery shopping done moments. Ice cream for dinner moments. Pajamas to the park moments. Floor that hasn't been mopped in a few weeks moments (you know, if you can't afford a cleaning lady....).  I just want to say this on behalf of us all. I am a good mother, you're a good mother. XOXO