Chicken Soup of the Heart

She was finally asleep. He leapt into action.

The flame on the oven went on immediately. He started boiling the chicken broth. He opened up the chicken breasts and plopped them into the broth. Three days ago, she had caught a cold and had never let it go. He chopped up the vegetables, starting with the carrots, moving on to the celery, and even an onion or two. They had tried the Nyquil, the Dayquil, all the quils, all to no effect. He minced parsley and added it, with the vegetables, to the soup. She slept a lot, thankfully, but still retained the temperature.

He skinned some garlic and minced it. He then added it to the soup with a bay leaf and shook some salt and pepper into the mix. He had a feeling he was forgetting something, and then figured it was the carb. So he faced a hard debate: Rice or elbow macaroni. The macaroni would add substance to the soup, but the rice would be easier to swallow. He put a couple of cups of rice to the side. While he waited for the pot to boil, he cracked open a beer. The comfortable aroma of the soup started permeating the kitchen. He tasted the soup, decided to add a little more salt. He had almost finished the beer when the first bubbles started. He added the rice, covered the pot, and reduced the temperature.

He removed the cover just ten minutes later, removed the chicken breasts, and replaced the cover. He stripped them to the bone, then put the meat into the pot and the bones in the bin. He slumped a little as he realized that he had forgotten a root vegetable and something green, and checked the pantry: They were out of the vegetables he needed!. He checked in on his wife, who was snoring in the cutest, most blackmailable way, so he figured a quick trip to the store would be okay. With only the slightest sense of utmost panic, he grabbed the car keys and ran for the SUV.

He parked just outside the co-op. It was of course crowded. He went straight to the vegetable racks, looking for a parsnip and leeks. He saw some fennel, debated whether the licorice taste would be appropriate, and then decided to grab it anyway. He grabbed a large parsnip (they never seemed to be out of stock) and turned to the leeks. There was one more! He marched off to it, but then, as he was just a step away, a large woman snatched and bagged it. He sighed. He spun around and headed to the cashier. But then a clerk passed him with a cart full of vegetables, including some treasured leeks. He grabbed one and then, with a song in his heart and whistle on his lips, hit the cashier.

Well, after grabbing some bell peppers and some goat cheese. He smirked as he thought of what he could do with those.

Back home, he checked the soup and decided to remove it from the heat. He realized that he needed to soften the parsnips and leeks before he could put them in the soup, so he put some olive oil in a pan. As it warmed, he chopped the parsnips and leek into more manageable pieces and then put them in the pan. He quickly decided to harvest some of the fennel fronds, then threw them into the pan as well. He fried the parsnip to the point it was softer but well before it was brown, and then removed it from the heat. In one smooth action, he removed the pot top, slid the vegetables in the pot, and put the top back.

Yes, he was pleased with himself.

Then he had the air fryer warm up. As it did so, he chopped up the bell peppers, put them in a bowl with an egg, and mixed them up with the goat cheese. He balled it up, rolled the balls in some panko, and put the balls in the air fryer, which had just dinged its readiness. In fifteen minutes, he would have some pepper cheese balls. He put the soup in the crock pot (to keep it warm). By the time the cheese balls were ready, he was in a pair of sweats and an old college jersey. He put the balls on a tray.

He then heard the snoring stop. He smiled.

He grabbed a bowl of soup, a spoon, and a saucer of balls and took them into the bedroom.

She sat up as he entered. She smiled as he entered. Her hair was in disarray, her nose was red and runny, and she was wearing an ugly shirt. “I must look awful.”

He saw her smiling at the carnival, her face as the veil was removed, her eyes at a birthday party. “Never.”

She stirred the soup with her spoon, enjoying the smell. She tasted it. She smiled. “The fennel was a nice touch.”

He snuggled next to her. “I hear it has healing properties. You’ll be better in no time.”

She smiled. “You just want me out of the house so you can get back to your gaming.”

He smirked. “Yep. You got me.” She hit him and the two snuggled closer. He let her eat and then she went back to sleep. He cleaned up and went to bed. He was the big spoon.