The Storm Chaser

Being snowed in wasn't the end of the world-their homemade soup took care of that.

The Storm Chaser

         Snow pummeled the A-frame windows like a thousand tiny fists. Greg leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at the snowdrifts piled higher than the barn roof. "Plows won't be here until the moon grows another crater of ice," he said, arms crossed. His wife, Jill, rolled her eyes from the pantry, a half-empty bag of sweet potatoes dangling from her fingers. "Spare me the dramatics, Frostbite. We're not that stuck. We've got two generators, a woodstove, and--" She paused, squinting at a dented can of coconut milk. "A dwindling supply of creativity."

         The challenge was issued.

         By 6:30 p.m., the kitchen resembled an archaeological dig. Jill had overturned three cabinets; Greg had resurrected a jar of expired curry paste from the back of the fridge. "This stuff smells older than the sled dogs," Greg said, sniffing skeptically. Jill snatched it from his hand. "And yet, it might still be edible. We're blending tradition with madness here."

         Their mission: transform the farm's culinary graveyard into a meal worthy of the storm's endurance. Greg chopped sweet potatoes into uneven cubes while Jill debated the merits of wild rice versus the questionable "mystery grain" in a cloth sack. ("I think it's barley. Or is that glitter?") They settled on the wild rice--a gamble that paid off when the grains, rehydrated and plump, later anchored the soup with earthy heft.

         A pot hissed on the stove as onion and garlic sizzled, their aroma cutting through the cold house. Greg added carrots, frozen peas (slightly thawed from the deep freeze), and a splash of coconut milk. Jill, ever the rule-breaker, dumped in the curry paste--followed by a can of diced tomatoes, a dash of soy sauce from the pantry shelf, and a handful of spinach that may or may not have been on its third week of semi-conscious existence.

         "This is either a Michelin star or a food poisoning trophy," Greg said, stirring.

         "It's an adventure," Jill corrected, tossing in a pinch of cayenne for luck. The soup thickened, a lurid orange-green swirl of chaos.

         As the soup simmered, so did their rivalry. Greg sneakily added a quarter-cup of honey to tame the spices ("It's for balance!"). Jill retaliated by sprinkling in dried cranberries from the holiday cookies of yore. The resulting broth was a wild medley--savory, sweet, and just spicy enough to make their eyes water.

         They ate it with saltine crackers, ladling out steaming bowls labeled "Greg's Courageous Experiment" and "Jill's Risky Masterpiece."

         "It tastes like a monsoon in a Thai market," Greg said, mouthwatering.

         "It's got the soul of a Minnesota potluck," Jill countered, "with the audacity of a New York food truck."

         They laughed, the noise echoing against the snow-muffled silence outside.

         By morning, the storm had relented. The plows will arrive tomorrow. But the real victory? Their soup christened "The Storm Chaser"--a recipe they'd later recount at family gatherings, always with embellishments about the "mysterious spice" and the time Greg tried to set the stove on fire roasting cumin.

The Storm Chaser Soup
Serves 4-6
         2          tbsp olive oil
         1          onion, diced.
         3          cloves garlic, minced.
         1          tbsp curry paste (or more, if you like chaos)
         4          cups of vegetables or chicken broth
         1          can coconut milk (13.5 oz)
         2          sweet potatoes, cubed.
         2          carrots, sliced.
         1          cup wild rice (or barley), cooked.
         1          cup frozen peas
         1          can diced tomatoes.
         1          tsp honey (optional, for "balance")
         1          cup dried cranberries or chopped apricots
         1          handful spinach or kale, chopped.
          Salt, pepper, and cayenne to taste.
          Sauté onion and garlic in oil until fragrant. Add curry paste and cook for 1 minute.
          Pour in broth, coconut milk, sweet potatoes, and carrots. Simmer 15-20 minutes.
          Stir in rice, peas, tomatoes, honey, cranberries, and spinach. Cook for five more minutes. Adjust seasoning.
          Serve with crackers, bread, and a sense of humor.*

*Note: The thrill is in the improvisation. Add glitter if you must.

Word Count: 662
Prompt: Write a story or poem about being stuck inside with loved ones by extreme weather and creating a new soup recipe with whatever ingredients they can pull together from the kitchen. Include the experience of making the soup, AND the recipe they produce (and if it's any good)!