In honor of the Winter Olympics (Wayne Gretzky waiting for those columns to rise… oh my, the nerves… he looked like someone tied his hands behind his back and dropped a snake down his pants) and in defiance of my complete disdain for all things soup, I present this cold creamy tangy triumph!

Yes, I hate soup. It has always been, as far as I’m concerned, a waste of a good mealtime. And yes, in the face of this, there’s always some die-hard broth-head who has had some kind of crazy soup in their past they swear will convert me. “Oh!” they exclaim, “you’d love a potato leak chowder with sliced almonds and an essence of baby’s breath!” No I wouldn’t.

“Oh!” they ask, “have you ever had a hearty tomato lentil soup with grated salmon tail?” No, I haven’t.

“Oh!” they implore, “you simply must try my Aunt Annie’s plomeek soup with candied celery ribs and vulcan meat.” No, I mustn’t.

Frankly, I’d rather go see that movie that came out last year about the killer orphan who was actually – spoiler alert – a grown woman with hooker dwarf syndrome. – than eat soup as a whole meal. In fact I’d rather have hooker dwarf syndrome than eat soup as a whole meal.  Maybe a little tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich when I’m sick with a cold, but THAT IS IT!

So why exactly did I decide to make chilled cucumber soup?  It isn’t really in honor of the Winter Olympics, though I’m told we are doing quite well.  And it wasn’t because I was trying to wow MG because he was at home making puppets.  And I don’t have any British people coming to visit.  I guess the only reason I decided to make it was because the picture in the Gordon Ramsay book looked sophisticated and impressive, and I was feeling some sort of inadequacy I needed to overcome, and English cucumbers are cheaper than Paxil.

Chilled Cucumber Soup from Gordon Ramsay

• 3 English cucumbers, about 1 1/2 pounds each, straight from the refrigerator
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• handful of fresh dill weed roughly chopped, plus a few fronds for garnish
• 2 cups plain yogurt
• 1-2 tablespoons cream-style horseradish, or to taste

Peel all three cucumbers and set one aside.  Cut the remaining two lengthwise into quarters.  Slice out the seedy core from each quarter, then chop into dice. Put into a large bowl and set aside.


Peel the remaining cucumber into long thin ribbons using a vegetable peeler.  Place the ribbons in a separate bowl and toss with a little lemon juice, olive oil, chopped dill and a bit of salt and pepper.  Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.



Divide your chopped cucumbers into two equal halves.  Take one half, one cup of the plain yogurt, some salt and pepper and blitz in a blender or food processor into a puree.  Press the puree through a fine sieve, pushing down hard with the back of a soup ladle.  Discard the leftover pulp.  Repeat the process with the second half of ingredients.



Taste and adjust the seasoning of the cucumber puree.  Lemon juice, salt and pepper.  the recipe calls for 1-2 tablespoons of cream horseradish.  I used 1, and next time will use less because I like it less on the creamy side and more on the tangy side.  Keep puree refrigerated until ready to serve.

When ready to serve, pour puree into chilled bowls and garnish with the tossed cucumber ribbons and dill fronds.  Goes wonderfully with a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich.

This is an improvement over what I did in my twenties when I was depressed, which was smoke grass, drink martinis and watch television until I either fell asleep or threw up.

Ah, the glamour of the twenties!

So I don’t plan too many structured events on the weekends anymore because they’ve become mostly about me and MG making fattening breakfasts, having coffee at The Big Fixx on Sunset (formerly Abbot’s Habit), watching television together and seeing who can win in the categories of “Snarkiest Comment,” “Best Impression of a Loser Celebrity.” and “Most Accurate Representation of What the Cat in the Cat Food Commercial would Sound Like if It Could Speak Human.”

Then we separate for a few hours in the middle of the day so he can get some work done, I’ll get together everything I need to make the night’s dinner, and we reconvene for more television, snarky comments and cocktails.

But none of that happened this past weekend, and by noon on Saturday I’d done all my grocery shopping, all my laundry, hit the post office and the dry cleaner, worked out, erased said workout by stopping at Carl’s Jr., tried to get my cat to eat a french fry and took a nap.

I had absolutely nothing else on my “to do” list for the entire weekend, so of course I spent it in the kitchen, making this meal, along with some other goodies that are being banked away for later postings. But MG wasn’t there to admire my kitchen technique, or rave about the finished meal after snaring his usual lion-sized portion, so it wasn’t nearly as gratifying and I have WAY TOO MUCH left over.

With each passing kitchen attempt I’m becoming more and more fascinated with perfecting the process than I am with actually feasting on the finished result. I’d much prefer to give the food itself over to someone else for them to enjoy, and just stay in the kitchen and tackle the next recipe on my long long list. Anyone else feel that way?

Farfalle with Sage, Peas and Bacon

• 14 ounces farfalle pasta
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 8 slices streaky bacon, chopped
• 1 garlic clove, finely chopped
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 5 ounces peas, thawed if frozen
• 2 1/2 ounces parmesan cheese, freshly grated, plus extra to sprinkle
• 1 small handful sage leaf, and flat-leaf parsley leaves

Bring a pot of salted water to the boil. Add in the farfalle and cook according to packet instructions until the pasta is al dente

Heat the oil in another pan and add the bacon. Fry over high heat for 3 – 4 minutes until the bacon is golden brown.

Add the garlic and fry for a minute. Pour in the cream and bring to the boil. Let simmer for 5 minutes until reduced and thickened slightly.

Tip in the peas, bring back to a simmer and cook for another 3- 4 minutes. Stir the grated parmesan into the sauce, then taste and adjust the seasoning.

When the pasta is ready, drain it in a colander and immediately add it into the sauce.
Add the herbs, then toss the pasta until well coated with the creamy sauce.

Divide among warm plates and sprinkle over a little more parmesan to serve.

Feel better, MG!