Creamy Chicken Noodle Soup
Or Cream Of Chicken Noodle Soup
There's a lot of things I really hate about how our current American society handles food and cooking, but there's a particular thing that I hate about recipes. And that is of course, Capitalism. Like this is an example of how Capitalism has actively contributed to making a thing, and everyone involved in that thing, worse at doing that thing.
Recipes as we know them are a modern concept, like an Album of Music or a Movie, it is an abstract thing that we have rules about. It is a thing that affects literally everyone who participates in society. The commodification of music and stories has definitely resulted in Albums and Movies that would not have been possible without said commodification. How you feel about that says something about your politics, there are certainly people on both sides of the argument. But I don't think anyone actually thinks the commodification of recipes has resulted in better food, and if they do they are wrong.
Recipes as commodities have to either benefit a product by incentivizing the purchase of that product, like the recipe for rice crispy treats benefits every company that makes puffed rice cereal and marshmallows, or it has to be enough of a Complex Special Snowflake to Sell Other Shit like cookbooks, or Cooking Shows, or however the fuck cooking blogs monetize their shit.
And I fucking hate it! And if I ever actually do anything with my waste of a life I might build a website and recipe database that's just free and opensource and just fucking about and only about the real heart of recipes that makes them actually useful!!!
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 yellow onion, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
2 celery ribs, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup whole milk
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
4 cups chicken broth
3 cups cooked shredded chicken
1 teaspoon fresh thyme
1 teaspoon kosher salt
½ teaspoon black pepper
2 cups wide egg noodles
½ cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley
This is the ingredient list for the recipe I used tonight. I want to read this recipe to the person who wrote it and every time I get to an ingredient that is strike-through I want to violently shake them and scream FUCK YOU in their face.
3 to 5 tablespoons of butter or oil
1/4 cup to 1 cup chopped vegetables, suggested 1 small onion & 2 carrots. Celery, garlic, mushrooms, or any root vegetable optional.
1 cup milk, highly suggested whole or 2%
3 tablespoons flour
4 cups chicken broth (4 tsp chicken bouillon powder or 2 bouillon cubes dissolved in 4 cups water)
3 cups cooked shredded chicken (approximately 3 breasts, but including dark meat and skin will enhance flavor)
2 cups wide egg noodles measured dry and uncooked
For extra creamy texture and taste highly recommend: 1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
Suggested seasonings: 1 tsp salt, 1/2 tsp black pepper, 1 tbsp lemon juice, 1 tablespoon parsley (MY suggested seasonings, 1 tsp lawry's seasoned salt, 1 tsp black pepper, 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper, 1/2 tsp garlic powder, 1/2 tsp onion powder)
THIS is a list of ingredients that's actually helpful! You know sometimes exact amounts of salt and lemon juice are extremely vital and necessary parts of a recipe, and sometimes they are just part of the random shit you can throw in to make it taste more like the kind of food you like. This recipe does not NEED fucking LEMON JUICE. It does not NEED an acid, some people think that lemon flavor pairs well with chicken. But if you didn't have lemon juice it would be fucking stupid to substitute a different acid like lime juice or vinegar. There is a difference between ingredients in a recipe and god damned flavor suggestions!
What a recipe SHOULD be is a blueprint for primary ingredient ratios. Before I looked up this recipe I knew exactly how to make it. I knew I was going to combine butter, flour, broth, milk, meat, vegetables, and noodles. That's the recipe! That's literally all this recipe boils down to. Those are the important parts. You can substitute any vegetable or meat or broth for another and describe very different soups. And if you used these same ratios you'd probably still end up with a decent soup, just not the ideal one. Potatoes will absorb moisture, while mushrooms will produce it. This is the ideal ratio specifically for carrots, onion, and chicken. If you don't put any onion or garlic in it, will it be a radically different soup? NO GOD DAMN IT! What about if you use a fuck ton of vegetables, just going bonkers? 6 carrots, a large onion, 3 celery ribs, and a half pound of mushrooms? It will still be fine, and probably enjoyed more if you love a ton of CRUNCH in your soup. (I don't, I like a my soup to be the same consistency of soft and mushy. And I didn't have any carrots, so the only vegetables I used were onion and half a stick of celery) But if you double the amount of milk and cream? You're risking the whole thing! That much milk and the flavor is going to be bland, maybe even sweet, and good luck cooking the noodles at a low boil, that much milk is going to be sticking and clumping and burning at the bottom of the pot you'll need to stir it nonstop like you're making fucking tapioca.
When a recipe is commodified it's trying to deliver some asshole's exact experience of his exact soup exactly how it would taste at his stupid restaurant in the first half of autumn during a waxing gibbon moon, that's not fucking useful! That's not how we buy our food or ingredients and its not how we cook!
It has been a number of years but I looked and I mean really looked to find a useful app or program or website for building a library of recipes, actual recipes, basic fundamental building blocks for meals. But there isn't one, every fucking thing out there was so god damned commodified to the point of being useless.
Anyways here's the fucking instruction steps to this amazing delicious soup I cooked tonight, it was the best soup I've ever made or tasted and it was really easy but that ease came from the fact that I had a ton of leftover rotisserie chicken from the grocery store that was really bland and dry when I ate it on its own but all the dark meat and skin was really good for the soup. I also have heavy cream because I like it in my coffee.
If you are adding heavy cream at the end, pour out your measured amount now and leave close to the stove so that it will warm closer to room temperature and isn't refrigerator cold when you add it at the end.
In a large pot, heat the butter (or oil) over medium-high heat. Add the onion, carrots, and celery fucking vegetables. Cook until vegetables are tender about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 2 more minutes if you're a sophisticated cunt and chop fresh garlic for a soup otherwise just use a little garlic powder, I did because I had some garlic but I doubt it made any difference!
In a small bowl, whisk together the milk and flour. Pour the mixture into the soup pot and stir, making sure there are no lumps of flour. I did this as instructed but you could probably just stir the flour into the sizzeling butter and vegetables and stir until there's no clumps and then stir in the milk. Stir in the chicken broth. Add the shredded chicken and thyme whatever fresh herbs you have lying about because you're so sophisticated. Season with salt and pepper.
Bring the soup to a low boil and stir in the egg noodles. Cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, or until noodles are soft. You need to baby this step to make sure the milk doesn't burn on the bottom of the pan, better to move to your smallest burner and use your lowest setting and cook longer if the noodles aren't quite tender at 10 minutes, putting a lid on it between stirs is advised. Stir at least every 3 minutes. Oh look I actually gave some exact details at the part that's actually important and will make a big difference to the outcome.
Stir in the heavy cream, lemon juice, and parsley and any additional sensitive flavor elements like lemon juice if that's the kind of person you are. Save this for the very last moment, stir on low heat about 2 minutes then remove from heat.
Ladle the soup into bowls and serve warm. I'll suck it from a beer bong while it's still boiling hot if I want to, what kind of fucking step is this? Was this your way of trying to say that you can't just let the soup with the heavy cream sit on the stove on low heat for 30 minutes while you wait for everyone to sit down because it will burn?
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i can see you - jamie tartt x reader
i can see you - jamie tartt x reader
jamie tartt x gn!reader
summary: Jamie can’t stop imagining you pressed up against the wall and his mouth on yours…will he act on it? Based off the song I Can See You by Taylor Swift from Speak Now Taylor’s Version.
word count: 1.4k
Warnings: COULD be considered NSFW so maybe MDNI (18+) just in case, implied smut, Jamie pining after you, language
A/N: I started this the day Speak Now TV came out, but I didn’t get the chance to finish it until now cause I was moving and didn’t have internet. This gets a LITTLE spicy, so enjoy. :) also THIS GIF 👀
’Cause I can see you waiting down the hall from me
And I could see you up against the wall with me
And what would you do?
Baby, if you only knew
That I can see you
Well…Jamie was fucked.
You stood down the hall from him talking with Keeley about the big press conference coming up for the team, making sure you’d scheduled everything for the boys that you needed to.
Jamie couldn’t hear the conversation, just stood gazing at you with a soft expression by the water fountain. He’d told himself that staring probably wasn’t the best idea, as you had a rule that you didn’t date people on the team, but he couldn’t help himself. Everything you did, everything you said, even how you moved…he was hopelessly in love with you.
He had imagined this scenario at least a hundred times. You’d walk down the hall to him. He’d wrap his arms around you, one hand on the back of your neck, the other on the small of your back, and pull your lips to his. Then you’d slide your hands up over his shoulders, reciprocating the passionate kiss, and he’d walk you slowly backwards so that you were pressed against the wall at the mercy of his hands and mouth. And that’s where you would stay; bodies pressed together in a way that made you both want each other even more, ready to find an empty room at a moments’ notice. Then after you’d both spent at least an hour (if not more) drawing pleasurable experience out of pleasurable experience out from each other, you’d both confess your love for the other.
He shook himself out of this enchanting imaginary moment when he saw you laugh at something Keeley said, pat her shoulder, and start walking down the hall towards him.
“Fuck,” he hissed as he noticed you notice him staring. He spun quickly on his heel, pretending to fill up his already full water bottle.
He heard your footsteps approaching, then silence as you came to a halt in front of him.
“Uh, you realize your bottle is already full, right?” you teased.
He glanced up, stopping the spout from sending more filtered water cascading over his hands into the drain. He felt his cheeks grow warm.
“Erm, can’t ever be too hydrated,” he heard himself stutter. “Coach Lasso is always gettin’ on me to drink more water, so…here I am doing that.”
You wrinkled your eyebrows in a confused smile, which sent butterflies fluttering about in his stomach. You were just so cute…
“Ted wanted me to let you know that he’s going to call you up to talk about your assists this month,” you told him. “And Roy wants to talk to you in his office after the conference. Something about…” You checked your phone, frowning in puzzlement. “...Uncle’s Day?”
“Shit,” he cursed. He averted his eyes bashfully. “Yeah, I might’ve…intruded a little on Phoebe’s holiday with him.”
You rolled your eyes good naturedly. “Oh come on, you know Roy. He acts like he’s some untouchable, rough-and-tumble, aggressive bear, but on the inside, he’s like a cute, angry little duck.”
Jamie let out a huge laugh. He was afraid it might have sounded too eager or loud. The self-conscious, nagging voice in his brain told him that it was dumb to laugh like that at such a small joke.
But you clearly enjoyed that he found your joke amusing. Your face went slightly pink, looking almost a little embarrassed.
“Should I tell Roy you’ve just compared him to a duck?” he joked.
You feigned an attitude but your smile was evident. “Alright. Go ahead. What would he do? Yell at me? He does that anyways.”
“Yellin’ is that man’s love language, I swear.”
“What’s yours?”
His breath caught in his throat. “What?”
You held his gaze confidently, eyes darkening slightly as you asked yet again, “What’s your love language?”
Jamie’s heart was stuttering. His brain had needed a moment to catch up to what you were asking.
“I, erm…” he stammered. His eyes bounced around, not able to meet yours. “For meself, it’s probably…eh, physical touch and, uh, words of affirmation.”
He finally was able to make eye contact. You clearly were paying attention, nodding as he finished speaking.
Jamie decided to be just as bold. “I told you mine, so you tell me yours.”
You smiled back. “Physical touch and quality time.”
He smirked, flirting back. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”
“I’d hope so,” you grinned, patting him lightly on the chest. Then without another word, you walked back down the hall, glancing back a few times to make sure he was watching. His chest tingled where you’d touched him.
Oh MAN…Jamie was really fucked now. Had you been thinking of the same things?
He questioned the interaction over and over again in his mind throughout the rest of that day. He knew he was distracted, especially during the press conference. Ted had to get his attention multiple times so he could answer questions that had just been asked of him.
But after the conference was over and the work day had ended, Jamie decided to act on things.
He stood by the water fountain, waiting for you to come down the stairs to go home. He tapped the top of the cooler anxiously.
You’d both been very professional with each other up until that conversation earlier. He’d never been tempted this much to act on his feelings. He knew that if he had acted on them before, you’d have become an addiction for him, which he couldn’t afford at this point. But, again, that was before the flirty exchange about love languages earlier.
Footsteps.
There you were.
He inhaled sharply, butterflies in his stomach fluttering like mad.
He saw you appear, bag in hand, staring down at your phone as you stepped down from the last stair.
He called your name. You whipped around, puzzled. Your face lit up when you saw him.
“Jamie,” you said, “what are you still doing here? It’s like seven. I thought all the players had gone home.”
He smiled lightly, coming closer to you as he spoke. “There’s not many of us left. I think Sam and Isaac might still be here, but…I have something else I need to do before I leave.”
Your confused expression only grew. “And what’s that?”
He stopped right in front of you, faces inches apart. You made no effort to move away from him, just stared back at him. Your eyes flickered to his lips.
“This,” he replied softly.
Jamie crushed his lips to yours. The reciprocation from you was instant. You dropped your bag to the floor.
His hands wound around your body, hands caressing as much of you as possible. Your arms went up to his neck, one hand on the back of his head, the other over his shoulders.
Your mouths moved hungrily against each other, trying to feel as much of each other as possible. It was like rain had finally come after a drought. You both realized how much you’d wanted each other.
Jamie was licking into your mouth. You slid your hands to tug on the collar of his sweatsuit jacket. His fingers were tracing the sliver of skin between your t-shirt and jeans. Your whole body was on fire.
Jamie wasn’t thinking straight. He backed you into the wall of the hallway, pressing your body against his. There was no space between you at all. His knee moved between your legs, pressing up. You whined against his mouth. He smirked into the kiss and groaned.
This was exactly what he had imagined so many times before.
His lips trailed off yours down your chin and neck. He licked and bit and kissed his way to your jugular. His left hand went up the back of your shirt to trace your spine in an agonizingly delicious manner.
Your breathing was heavy, trying to find some relief on his knee as you ground down. His mouth was relentless on your neck. It was everything you’d wanted for so long.
You fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, pulling slowly down. His mouth was immediately back on yours, but he unzipped the jack quickly and slung it off.
He was only in a tank top, leaving his arms bare. You dug your fingernails into his biceps as he kissed over your jaw to behind your ear. He felt fireworks under his skin where you traced.
You let out an involuntary moan. He pulled away, grinning widely, lips still inches from yours.
“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Can’t have you alerting everyone here what we’re doin’, love. Not a sound...”
You pulled his lips to yours again.
In between kisses, you suggested hoarsely, “boot room?”
Jamie pulled back again. You could feel his breath against your chin. “Are you sure?”
You nodded, blushing, still giving him some of your signature sass. “Obviously. I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I wasn’t.”
He pecked your lips once more, grabbing your hands and immediately leading you away to the boot room to act the rest of his fantasy…and yours.
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