Summer soups

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“Why do we have to have soup every night?” Ernest asked last night as he spooned minted pea soup into his pie hole and my dashing husband and I discussed the fact that I’d roasted the chiles to make a cream of green chile soup just like the one we’d had Sunday night at Duarte’s Tavern* while we crunched on tomato bruschetta I’d made to go alongside the soup.

“Because I haven’t had soup all summer,” I explained with a bit of a laugh as I realized that I was eating – and serving – soup for the fourth time in five days with plans to make it five out of six, ” and I’m trying to recover from the daily allotment of grilled meat we had all summer.”

It’s true. We ate a lot of meat during our sejour in Minnesota. My parents eat very well. No stereotypical Midwestern casseroles or canned veggies. Fresh, crisp salads and homemade guacamole are served almost daily. But so is meat. Or at least some bit of animal be it beef or pork or chicken or fish. This is almost especially true in the summer, when the grill tempts us all with its siren song of delicious carcinogenic charred bits.

So I’m in a bit of recovery but Ernest is in a bit of withdrawal. He’s gone from getting his grandmother to serve him chicken wings for breakfast to a diet with more varied protein sources.

* Duarte’s is in Pescadero, about an hour drive south along the coast from San Francisco. They have great fresh fish dishes, awesome pies with super flakey crusts (the olallieberry is a favorite in our family), soul-soothing sourdough bread, and the best cream of artichoke and cream of green chile soups imaginable. And for people like me, who hate to have to choose, they’ll serve two soups side-by-side in a bowl (the similar textures keep them from running into each other – it’s brilliant).