first virus of the season (also here’s some congee)

Hubs and I are both sick with some kind of plague. We are pretty sure where we got it from, but no one is here to point fingers (Kev). Sore throats, phlegm, coughing. It’s pretty miserable. On the bright side, he’s been working from home so we’ve been able to spend a lot of time together.

Whenever I’m sick, I crave the comfort foods of my childhood. (Well, whenever anyone is sick, they crave the comfort foods of their childhood, I suppose. Though I’m talking about my specific case, so… Anyway.) For me, this means some kind of brothy noodle soup, wontons, and/or congee. Since Adam is still on a liquid/pureed diet, that means it’s CONGEE TIME.

Congee is a rice porridge that is pretty ubiquitous in Asian countries. In China, it’s frequently a breakfast food, served alongside fried dough sticks (youtiao) or with an array of toppings so you can choose your own adventure. Possibly you’ve seen it at dim sum restaurants making the rounds. It’s not that different from grits or cream of wheat or oatmeal, although congee classically skews savory rather than sweet.

Recipe below the cut.

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fall (and soup)

This time of year might be my second favorite (I’ve got a soft spot for deep winter that has yet to be usurped). But this is the time of year when the weather first starts to hint at cold. And when trees start dressing in their colorful finery, bit by bit. Then all at once the world is covered in red and gold and orange and you are suddenly surrounded by fall. This is the season of decorative gourds. Of costumes and candy. Of cinnamon and cider and houses that smell like spice.

This is the time of year when I feel most wistful and whimsical and downright sentimental. It makes me self-reflective (even more so than usual) and quiet (again, even more so than usual). What is it about fall that makes a person feel poetical and nostalgic?

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