To celebrate the lovely cool, fallish weather yesterday, I made soup for dinner. Italian Sausage and Tortellini Soup is hearty enough by itself for a meal with some grated Parmesan cheese sprinkled on top and some fresh, crusty bread served on the side.
The soup takes about 2 hours to make, and serves at least 4 people, but my husband and I usually get 3 dinners out of one batch of soup: so 6 servings. If you are more generous with the ingredients, you may want to add another can of beef broth, which will enable it to feed more people.
Locally I can get poultry (chicken and turkey) Italian sausage in mild or hot, in link or patty. Since I do not have a particularly hot tooth, the mild version is fine for me, and I get links. The sausage needs to be parboiled first, so put the links in a Pyrex bowl or casserole, prick them with a fork, cover them with water, and cook them in the microwave for about 10 to 15 minutes. My microwave is old, so if you have a newer one, it may take less. You don't want to overcook the sausage because it will get dried-up looking even in water. You could boil the sausage in a pan on the stove, if you prefer.
When the sausage is cooked, pour out the hot water, and put in cold to cool off the sausage enough for you to handle it. Cut the links in half lengthwise, then slice across to make bite-size pieces.
Ingredients:
3/4 to 1 pound Italian sausage (3 or 4 links), parboiled and sliced
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1 Italian pepper (a mild, sweet pepper), deveined and seeded, chopped
1 stalk celery, chopped
1 (16-oz) can of diced tomatoes, with juice
2 (14.5-oz) cans of beef broth
1 teaspoon sugar
freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 1/2 cups of diced fresh red and green bell peppers
2 cups frozen cheese tortellini
Directions:
1. Put a 4-quart pot on the stove, pour in 1 tablespoon of olive oil, and set the heat to medium-high. When the oil shimmers, pour in the sausage and brown it.
2. Add the onion, garlic, bell peppers, Italian pepper and celery, and saute' until soft.
3. Add the tomatoes, broth, and sugar.
4. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat, cover and simmer for about 45 minutes.
5. Keeping the soup simmering in the pot, in another pot cook the tortellini according to package directions.
6. Stir the cooked tortellini into the soup.
7. Ladle the soup into soup plates or bowls to serve. Sprinkle with grated Parmesan cheese.
Buon appetito!
Adapted from a recipe in Peppers Hot & Sweet by Beth Dooley
A note about leftovers: the flavors are better-blended and more mellow after cooling and reheating, but the tortellini, or any pasta for that matter, tends to fall apart a bit, absorbing some liquid.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Some people are crazier than others
Yesterday I went to the Finger Lakes Fiber Festival in Hemlock, NY. It was a breath of Fall, my favorite season. The air was cool and windy, the sky was sunny and cloudy, and at times, drizzly.
The Rochester Knitting Guild had a booth in a building with other fiber arts guilds on the Hemlock Fairgrounds. The focus of the RKG booth was the Biggest Sock in the World, to be entered into the Guinness Book World Records. Definitely some people are crazier than others.
The sock is being knit in the round with circular knitting needles used end-to-end to go all the way around the sock, which is about 12 feet around. (This is a guess - it may be bigger.) The sock was on two 8-foot long banquet tables pushed together, and knitters sat and knitted where the ends of the circular needles met. Passersby were encouraged to sit down and knit, then sign the log. Which a lot did; it wasn't just guild members who were doing it.
The sock's next port of call I hear is Toronto, you lucky Torontonians. Have a blast!
The Rochester Knitting Guild had a booth in a building with other fiber arts guilds on the Hemlock Fairgrounds. The focus of the RKG booth was the Biggest Sock in the World, to be entered into the Guinness Book World Records. Definitely some people are crazier than others.
The sock is being knit in the round with circular knitting needles used end-to-end to go all the way around the sock, which is about 12 feet around. (This is a guess - it may be bigger.) The sock was on two 8-foot long banquet tables pushed together, and knitters sat and knitted where the ends of the circular needles met. Passersby were encouraged to sit down and knit, then sign the log. Which a lot did; it wasn't just guild members who were doing it.
The sock's next port of call I hear is Toronto, you lucky Torontonians. Have a blast!
Knitting as a Metaphor for Life
It's been six years since planes flew into the World Trade Center in New York City, and the Pentagon. For most of four days I sat with my attention glued to the TV, knitting and thinking, wondering what would happen. We were reminded of how precious life is, and how harmful is hatred.
It is important to remember that one cannot know what is in another's heart by the color of their skin, the way they choose to dress, their religious beliefs, or their accent when they speak.
For months afterward, the events of September 11, 2001 were always at the back of my mind, while trying to get back to my normal routine. Much of daily life can seem trivial during a crisis, but that routine is also comforting, and imparts a sense of normalcy and control.
The knitting guild to which I belong had been gradually growing in membership, but after September 11th, that growth seemed to boom. Americans were reminded of the value of home, family, and friends, and wanted to do things more close to home. Increased interest in handwork was a natural outgrowth of these feelings.
If you work with your hands, then you know how keeping your hands busy can calm the mind. Knitting simple things lends itself well to being in company. You can knit and carry on a conversation at the same time, and if the company is made up of other knitters, it is even better.
The interconnected loops of yarn that are knitting, are also a metaphor for life. It stretches and eases back. It may wear thin, but it can be mended. It may be cut, but it can be sewn together. It may unravel, but it can be knitted up again. Knitting is a product of creative energy, and the act of creating expresses faith that life will continue, that life is good, that there is hope. While knitting, our hands can express our feelings. Express love.
Parts of the above appeared in an essay I wrote for the Rochester Knitting Guild's newsletter of October 2001. (C) 2001, 2007 by Jeanne Eaton Hoffman
It is important to remember that one cannot know what is in another's heart by the color of their skin, the way they choose to dress, their religious beliefs, or their accent when they speak.
For months afterward, the events of September 11, 2001 were always at the back of my mind, while trying to get back to my normal routine. Much of daily life can seem trivial during a crisis, but that routine is also comforting, and imparts a sense of normalcy and control.
The knitting guild to which I belong had been gradually growing in membership, but after September 11th, that growth seemed to boom. Americans were reminded of the value of home, family, and friends, and wanted to do things more close to home. Increased interest in handwork was a natural outgrowth of these feelings.
If you work with your hands, then you know how keeping your hands busy can calm the mind. Knitting simple things lends itself well to being in company. You can knit and carry on a conversation at the same time, and if the company is made up of other knitters, it is even better.
The interconnected loops of yarn that are knitting, are also a metaphor for life. It stretches and eases back. It may wear thin, but it can be mended. It may be cut, but it can be sewn together. It may unravel, but it can be knitted up again. Knitting is a product of creative energy, and the act of creating expresses faith that life will continue, that life is good, that there is hope. While knitting, our hands can express our feelings. Express love.
Parts of the above appeared in an essay I wrote for the Rochester Knitting Guild's newsletter of October 2001. (C) 2001, 2007 by Jeanne Eaton Hoffman
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