I originally set out to make a tomato egg dish that my mom makes. However, I had only ever helped her prepare it and never saw it through to the end product; which means I don’t know exactly how she makes it.
I took that opportunity to make it up as I go, taking a lesson from my grandfather who almost always has a dish he just makes up at FND.
I had my tomatoes cut up and boiling in water with a dash of salt. I removed the skins. I went to find the baby potatoes in our garage (my mom keeps her potatoes and onions there so I guess that’s where I get it from), cut some up, washed them, and then plopped them in the pot.
While the tomatoes and potatoes were having a grand ol’ time in the pot, I stirred it around and suddenly thought of my grandmother. She used to make a soup like this. I use the word like loosely, because I doubt I’ll ever cook like she did. She had a tomato soup base with potatoes, small bits of pork (I think), beef and fish balls, and egg. It was so good.
Inspired, I dug around the freezer for some balls! I found some and put them in the pot too. So now I had tomato, potato, and balls. I also found leftover roasted pork in the freezer and dropped a few pieces of that in there too. I tasted it. Added some more salt and a little bit of pepper.
Then I just let it boil and toil and bubble.
In the meantime, I scrambled up some eggs on the side and then added it to the soup.
The rice was washed and watered and in a pot ready to be cooked when LG was on the way home. I tasted the soup again, and it was fine…but it just wasn’t the same. I didn’t know what I was missing. More salt? A splash of soy sauce? I opened up a thing of chicken broth and put a little bit in just to see if it made it taste right. Somewhere in the back of my memory I remember my grandmother saying, “ya, that’s because I made the chicken stock from scratch!” But I don’t know if it was about this soup
Regardless, the chicken broth helped a bit, but I had to accept the fact that tonight my soup wasn’t going to be the same as mama’s. I was proud of my soup though, so much so that I wanted to invite my grandfather over last minute to have some with us. But I thought maybe that wasn’t the right and proper thing to do. I should have a plan and invite him properly to share a meal with us. It’s just that the dinners I make are so on the fly that I never really know how they’re going to turn out.
I miss her.