grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Tortilla Soup with a Poem

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Tortilla Soup
You will love this tortilla soup! But first, a poem…
All night
I watch the skies.
Like an excited child
I imagine deep snowfall, soup
simmers.
snowfall

Chicken Tortilla Soup
(Gale Green’s recipe)

2 boxes (24 oz each) chicken broth
2 shredded chicken breasts (grilled or roasted)
2 cans Rotel
1 can whole kernel corn, drained
1 bunch chopped cilantro
salt and pepper to taste

Toppings
tortilla chips (the thinner & crispier the chips the better…)
avocado, diced
shredded cheese
sour cream

Add chicken broth, Rotel, corn, cilantro, salt and pepper to dutch oven and bring to a boil. Then simmer for 30 minutes. Add chicken and simmer for additional 30 minutes.
Add broken tortilla chips to bowl. Pour soup over chips to soften. Top with cheese, avocado and sour cream if desired.

Variations: Add rice and/or black beans.

Muy delicioso! Thanks Gale!

Update: I wrote this post in February 2013, after a big snowfall in Fayetteville. Thinking back, it may have been our last decent snowfall. This morning (3-21-2020), the sun is shining but we are all sheltering at home due to COVID-19. Soup makes things better. Stay safe everyone!

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

not Wanted!

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Guess what? I managed to spend Friday afternoon at the Lakewood Library without causing a stink. In fact, I believe I redeemed myself.

Although I was concerned about returning after my last awkward visit, I had research to complete for my children’s book class, and I was too lazy to drive to another library branch. Plus really, should I be forced to do that?

There were no WANTED posters with my picture or blog name. I considered this a positive.
I made no eye contact but went straight to the children’s section which was empty—no adults or kids, only me. I did not dare sit in that section but searched for the books I needed and casually walked to the adult section to read. So far, so good.
After about an hour, I slipped back into the children’s section to re-shelf my books. There, in the same area I was not welcome a few weeks ago, sat a lady with no kids, talking on her cell phone. 

Oh, this woman was toast…
I instantly became nervous for her, knowing a librarian would soon swoop down to exile her into the adult area, slapping her wrist for talking on a cell phone (which I fully supported {the cell phone slap not the exile part}.
I considered warning her, but still trying to lay low I said not a word, returned my books and then bravely queued up to speak to the lady at the front desk. I was there to confess I lost my library card—hadn’t seen it in fifteen years and needed a new card. I prayed she would not recognize my face or name.
She was friendly and helpful and told me a replacement card was $4.00 which I paid.  Then she told me I owed $1.50 in fines.
I almost said, “For what? When? I haven’t checked out a book in forever, whine whine whine.”

But I didn’t.
I stopped myself...

I was determined to follow the rules, to be in good standing with the library, to again freely surround myself among books.

I paid the fine but wondered if I had been charged $1.50 for loitering in the children’s section last month?

Bygones.

I am proud to say I am a replacement-card-carrying, in-good-standing, library member. But, when I left, that woman will still sitting alone in the children’s section! Very sketchy, if you asked me.


talya
Musical Pairing:
P.S. in case you missed the first part of the story….Asked To Leave

I was one of the crazies.

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Saline water gurgles over my right shoulder sounding like an aquarium. In the next room a television drones on as someone wins the Showcase Showdown. The mere sound of a game show makes me nauseous, transports me back forty years to sick days home from school.

The smell of hospital food is unmistakable, sickness and sorrow stirred into chicken broth. In the corridor a nurse bellows, “I hated being pregnant—worst experience ever!”

Some women love being pregnant.” Another responds, shocked at her confession.

“Only crazy women!” She continues down the hallway, skipping Gene’s room. The lunch cart needs a squirt of W-D 40.

From my fake leather chair I murmur, “I was one of the crazies.”

Gene doesn’t reply.


talya

Musical Pairing:

Feb, 2011
RIP Gene Boerner

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!