Spicy Albondigas
This spicy abondigas soup recipe pairs tender, perfectly seasoned, rice-stuffed meatballs with a rich and spicy broth that's loaded with vegetables. 1 teaspoon dried oregano, 4 stalks celery sliced, 1 bunch cilantro leaves chopped, 1 can tomato sauce, 1/4 teaspoon salt, 1/2 large onion chopped, 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder, 1 large egg, 2 pounds ground beef, 1/4 cup bread crumbs, 1 can diced green chiles drained, 4 medium carrots sliced, 1/2 cup uncooked white rice, 2 teaspoons ground cumin, 1 can diced tomatoes with green chile peppers, 10 cups chicken broth
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Recipe for Albondigas Soup III
Cumin and oregano flavor the broth of this Mexican soup which calls for chunks of potatoes and beef meatballs made with rice. 2 teaspoons ground black pepper, 2 tablespoons dried oregano, 1/2 cup all-purpose flour, 2 quarts water, 1 egg, 1/2 cup uncooked white rice, salt and pepper to taste, 2 teaspoons garlic salt, 1 pound ground beef, 3 potatoes peeled and cubed, 1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
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february 17, @jegulus-microfic prompt: soup. word count: 685
cw: grief/sadness & mentioned death of parents
Regulus dug through the kitchen drawers quickly. He could have sworn the small yellow paper was around here somewhere, he remembered vaguely seeing it just a couple months ago—
There! There it is, hidden beneath magazines and old receipts, looking slightly crinkled. He pulled it out with a relieved sigh.
He pattered gently through the house, noting and hating the eerie silence. Their home had never really been known for its silence, with plenty of clatter going on. James was not a quiet human. He was loud and the echoes of his laughs were usually bouncing around the halls. He made noise when he walked or danced around the house, and he was always humming or whistling some tune that was stuck in his head. Regulus found the constant noise endearing. He always knew when James was around.
But now, he felt cold walking through a silent home.
James was exactly where Regulus found him, laying still and quiet on the bed. He stared blank-eyed at the ceiling, seeing nothing that was there. James was a hollow of a person, and Regulus’ heart broke every day he saw him like this.
James’ parents passed away over a month ago, and James wasn’t himself.
“Hi, baby,” Regulus whispered, crawling onto the bed to sit beside James. He brushed away the curls from James’ forehead, trying to pour all his love into him. James thrived and lived off love—love in all its forms, physical affections, words of kindness and care, friendships and romantic love and familial love—it was all pure James, and he needed it. In fact, he was obnoxious with love, overfull of so much love for everyone around him and the rest of the world.
So Regulus did what he could, touching and caring for James in the small and big ways, especially as he fell apart.
James looked at Regulus, eyes sorrowful, and Regulus wasn’t used to seeing James without a smile.
Today, at the very least, wasn’t a bad day. James’ bad days were spent going through cycles of catatonia and body-wracking sobs. Today, though, James just looked sad.
“I found something I want us to try,” Regulus whispered, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
“Hm?” James hummed.
Regulus showed him the yellow slip of paper, and his hand was slightly shaking. He was mildly fearful of James’ reaction to it.
James looked at it, and looked at, and kept looking, and Regulus was about to ask, to beg for a response when James gulped, and turned back to Reg with tearful eyes.
“I’d love to,” he whispered, voice thick.
The paper was many years old, and there was a bulleted list of ingredients and instructions on how to properly make Euphemia Potter’s homemade albondigas soup. Regulus smiled, grateful for this show of life, and helped James out of bed, changing his clothes and wrapping him in a fluffy robe before leading him to the kitchen.
They assigned roles, and James was gentle when he began making and forming the meatballs. Regulus grabbed the other ingredients, the broth and spices and vegetables. They worked around each other and with each other, and Regulus was pleased to see their comfortable dynamic returning, even in the small ways.
When the soup was done, Regulus shuffled James onto sitting on the couch and shushed him when he complained. He served them two bowls of soup and they cuddled up on the couch, warm and pressed against each other. Regulus hoped James felt every bit of Euphemia’s love from the soup and from him. Regulus would coddle him unashamed because Regulus cherished him, and James needed to feel that.
James finished his bowl of soup and curled into Regulus, head on his chest and breathing steady.
“Thank you, Reg,” he whispered. “I felt closer to her, just for a little while.”
Regulus smiled and kissed his nose. “We can make soup as often as you want, if it helps.”
James smiled, a small and sad-tainted thing, but it was his first smile in months, and Regulus felt himself heal a little bit, too.
part of my february microfic work on ao3(17/29): february, i'm yours
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