Funnily enough, although it’s still August and therefore technically summer, it has been on the slightly parky side to the extent that our central heating has made a unilateral decision and popped itself on for an hour or so every now and again. That said, I’m not into full stew and dumpling mode yet, and although I may be making soup, something I associate more with the colder months, chances are it will go into the freezer. This is, if I haven’t eaten it all through ‘sampling’. It’s darn fine.
Of course the wonderful thing about watercress soup is you can eat it hot or cold in theory, but I’m a little bit conservative when it comes to soup, and haven’t as yet, really truly relished a cold soup. That could be down to the ingredients within the soup so perhaps I should make my own. It would have to be when we had friends round though. I am not very good at selling foods that I am slightly unsure of to himself and the boys, so fear I would probably end up eating alone that evening.
Onto the soup. Chop an onion and put into a pan with butter. Now then, I almost always cook my onion in a large lump of butter with salt and ground pepper so that it sautes however, you may prefer to hold back on the butter. Either way, slow cook until the onions are translucent. Chop the watercress and add to the onion. Then add chicken stock, grated nutmeg and one or two peeled and chopped potatoes. Bring to the boil and leave simmering for twenty minutes or so.
Just a little thought about the stock. I use my own homemade chicken stock *polishes halo*, but you may be vegetarian, or indeed just can’t be arsed with the fuss of making your own stock. In which case, buy those fantastic Knorr Stock Pots. They come in all types of flavours and are amazing.
So, when the stuff in the pan has been simmering away for a while, take off the heat and liquidise. I think actually, you’re supposed to leave it to cool down a little before liquidising, but it’s not the end of the world if you don’t. In fact, I don’t think it makes any difference whatsoever, barring the heat of the soup, which may attack you when you least expect it.
And finally, if you are going to eat this soup straight away, ladle into bowls then add a little single cream in a swirly fashion to each bowl, standing on one foot with the other leg coyly lifted at the knee and thrown, with gay abandon behind you. Make sure at least one arm looks ready to conduct an orchestra. Perfect.