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<\/p>\nA recipe and a story. Two for the price of one.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Juggling paper sacks and keys, Starsky managed to get through the door without dropping anything — a minor miracle. Shaking his head and scattering a halo of raindrops, he pulled the door closed with his foot, and dumped the groceries in the kitchen before turning his attention to the figure stretched on the sofa. “Hey.”<\/p>\n
“Hey yourself.”<\/p>\n
“How’re you doing?”<\/p>\n
“Fine.”<\/p>\n
Starsky kicked off his shoes and hung up his rain soaked jacket then went to sit on the coffee table.<\/p>\n
“You been out this morning?”<\/p>\n
“It’s raining. And I’m too tired.”<\/p>\n
“You haven’t been outside since you left the hospital! Have you eaten?”<\/p>\n
“I don’t think so. Can’t remember.”<\/p>\n
“Oh babe, you have to eat.”<\/p>\n
“I’m too tired.”<\/p>\n
“You’re too tired because you’re not eating. Gil called me today — he’s worried about you.”<\/p>\n
“Great. I need to have a word with him about doctor\/patient confidentiality!”<\/p>\n
“He’s my doctor too.”<\/p>\n
“So I can expect full details the next time you have to see him about that little problem you get with your dick?”<\/p>\n
Starsky shuddered. “Not the same thing at all.” He leaned forward and ran his thumbs gently along Hutch’s cheekbones. “I could cut myself on those. Gil says you’re doing great in all the ways he can help you with –” he waved a hand towards the small pharmacy of pill bottles lined up on the counter, “– but not so great in the ways you have to help yourself. You need to be eating and pushing yourself a little if you want to get your strength back.”<\/p>\n
Hutch sighed. “It’s really hard.”<\/p>\n
“I know. And that’s why I have a plan. Come on.”<\/p>\n
Starsky pulled Hutch to his feet, and towed him, protesting, to the kitchen.<\/p>\n
“Sit there.” He pulled out a chair, gently pushed Hutch into it and poured him a glass of cold milk. “Sip at that while we work.”<\/p>\n
“What are we doing?”<\/p>\n
“We’re making dinner.”<\/p>\n
“But it’s only 2:00!”<\/p>\n
“Takes a long time.”<\/p>\n
“What are we making?”<\/p>\n
“Gonna teach you how to make soup.”<\/p>\n
“I know how to make soup! I make soup all the time. It takes five minutes. Less.”<\/p>\n
“Not this soup.”<\/p>\n
Rummaging in Hutch’s cupboards, he pulled out a chopping board and a knife. “Where’s your big pot?”<\/p>\n
“I don’t know. It might be in the greenhouse — I was using it to soak my azalea. Starsky\u2026.”<\/p>\n
Starsky retrieved the pot and got very busy with soap and hot water and a scrubbing brush, then dumped a selection of vegetables in the middle of the table. “There you go. Four onions, six carrots, four sticks of celery and a leek. Drink your milk and chop those while I brown this chicken. No need to peel them — there’s flavor in the skins. Splash of oil in the pan, then keep turning the chicken ’til it’s brown.”<\/p>\n
“Starsky — this is ridiculous. Why are we doing this?”<\/p>\n
“Because you need to do something other than lie on the couch watching Little House On the Prairie — don’t deny it, I’ve seen you — and it’s too wet for you to go out. Because what is ridiculous is a grown man not being able to cook anything but meatloaf and yuk shakes. And because you need good food. Get chopping.”<\/p>\n
He was about to turn to the stove with the chicken, when he did a double take. Hutch had gathered a handful of carrots and was pushing the knife down on them with his left hand.<\/p>\n
“Jesus, man, not like that!”<\/p>\n
“You told me to chop them!”<\/p>\n
“You’re not going to chop anything but your own fingers. No wonder you’re always covered in Band-Aids! Look — like this. Tuck your fingers under — away from the blade.”<\/p>\n
After a short knife skills tutorial, Hutch was working in a more acceptable manner, and Starsky was browning the chicken in a hot pan.<\/p>\n
“You’ve never told me where you got all your hausfrau knowledge. In the Army?”<\/p>\n
Starsky flashed him a grin over his shoulder. “Lord, no. It was Mom. She said she wasn’t going to have her daughters-in-law kvetching about her after Temple for bringing up useless men. So we cooked and marketed and cleaned. She had us doing our share as soon as we were old enough to reach the stove. I can even darn socks.”<\/p>\n
Hutch smiled, imagining the two little live wire Starsky boys rushing home with shopping baskets, and the long ago kitchen filled with smells like those that were beginning to permeate his own, then sighed.<\/p>\n
“What’s wrong? You done with those? Hey, you’ve done a good job there. And look, the chicken’s brown all over.” Starsky took the vegetables, and added them to his pot. “You need to let them fry a little with the chicken before you add the water — you get more flavor that way. Then enough water to cover everything by about two inches. Tablespoon of peppercorns. Teaspoon of salt. Now it just needs to simmer. What’s wrong?”<\/p>\n
“Oh, nothing really. Feeling kinda blue is all. Guess I’m bored of being sick.”<\/p>\n
Starsky put the lid on his pot, turned down the gas and came to sit at the table, reaching out to rest his hand on Hutch’s wrist, feeling bones where he shouldn’t be able to feel bones. “Yeah. It’s taking a while — and patience isn’t your thing, is it? But good things take time. And they take work. Bit like the soup.”<\/p>\n
“Oh please! Let’s not get sickening about this — spare me the home spun wisdom!”<\/p>\n
Starsky laughed. “Sorry. You know what happens after I talk to my mom.”<\/p>\n
Hutch’s head went up and he shook off Starsky’s hand, blue eyes suddenly bright with anger.<\/p>\n
“You’ve been talking to your mom? This soup shit was her idea, wasn’t it? Who else have you been discussing my personal affairs with? Why can’t you just butt out and take your do-gooders with you?”<\/p>\n
Without thinking, Starsky smiled — and Hutch flung himself to his feet.<\/p>\n
“I know what you’re thinking and you can stop right now. This is me being pissed with your mother-hemming, not me ‘showing a bit of spirit at last.'” He stormed towards the bedroom alcove, the effect a little spoiled when he wobbled and had to grab the bookcase to steady himself.<\/p>\n
Starsky just managed to resist rushing to help, and listened as his partner flopped onto the bed, his breathing heavy from the effort. Slowly, the breaths slowed, and a few minutes later, relaxed into sleep.<\/p>\n
Three hours later, tousle-haired and shamefaced, Hutch emerged.<\/p>\n
“Had a good sleep?”<\/p>\n
“Best for weeks. Starsky, I\u2026”<\/p>\n
“I know, buddy. It’s OK. Go shower — then we’ll start the matzo ball lesson.”<\/p>\n
“I don’t like matzo balls.”<\/p>\n
“You’re gonna love the ones you make. Like clouds, they’ll be.”<\/p>\n
“Just guessing — that’s straight out of the Rachel Starsky song book?”<\/p>\n
“Couldn’t possibly comment. Go shower.”<\/p>\n
Starsky went to strain his simmering soup, and by the time Hutch emerged, it was back on the stove, a big handful of sliced green beans, carrots and leeks simmering away in its golden depths, smelling savory and wonderful. “Feeling better?”<\/p>\n
“You know, I think I am.”<\/p>\n
Hutch smiled his rare, warm, all-encompassing smile, and Starsky’s heart lurched a little. He had missed that smile so much, and he had so nearly lost it forever. He quickly pulled his partner into a hug. Here he was, alive and nearly well, citrus scented, his blond hair in little curls round his face the way it always went after a shower. For a moment, Starsky clung, then gave a half laugh, half sob, and pushed him away.<\/p>\n
“Starsky?”<\/p>\n
“I’m OK. Just going to taste this for seasoning. I think it needs a bit more salt. What do you think? Careful, there’s nothing hotter than hot chicken soup.”<\/p>\n
He held out the spoon. Hutch wrapped his own hand round Starsky’s to steady it and sipped. His eyes widened. “Starsk, that’s delicious! I think I might be a little hungry — but I can’t quite remember what it feels like.”<\/p>\n
“Half an hour to dinner if you get on with the matzo balls. Stuff’s on the table”<\/p>\n
Hutch looked at him sideways, then decided on the path of least resistance. “I didn’t know I had measuring cups.”<\/p>\n
“You don’t. I brought mine. You do have two can openers, though. OK, a cup of matzo meal. Go on, scoop it out.”<\/p>\n
“Why do I feel I’m back in Elementary School?”<\/p>\n
“Didn’t you cook at home? Put it in the bowl. Then a teaspoon of baking soda and a pinch of salt and a teaspoon of dill.”<\/p>\n
“No time for that in my house. Too much studying to do and music to practice.”<\/p>\n
“Take this jug and break these eggs into it. Carefully! Here, wipe it up with this. Then half a cup of oil. Mix it up. What about Mary?”<\/p>\n
“Oh, she cooked.” Hutch’s whisking slowed as he looked back through time. “It’s kind of ironic. Nobody much cared about her schoolwork, and nobody much cared about anything but mine. And now she’s been through college as an adult and she’s a professor and I’m just a cop.”<\/p>\n
“Nothing ‘just’ about you, buddy. Now pour the eggs into the matzo meal and mix it real quick. If you mix too much they turn into cannon balls. Like my Aunt Rosa’s. Remember last Hannukah?”<\/p>\n
Hutch shuddered. “I had heartburn ’til Christmas.”<\/p>\n
“Now use your hands to make it into little balls. Like this. The size of a walnut.”<\/p>\n
“Hey, this is kinda fun.” Hutch caught Starsky’s fleeting grin and scowled. “Don’t tell me — that’s what your mom said I’d say.”<\/p>\n
“Once again, I couldn’t possibly comment. Bring them over here and drop them in the soup one by one. Watch yourself — don’t let it splash you. Oops! Oh well, you’ll live. There. They’ll be done in twenty minutes. Just time for me to tidy up and you to find something for us to watch. You get to choose. Just not Little House On the Prairie for the love of God\u2026.”<\/p>\n
They settled on Star Trek reruns and were soon sprawled on the sofa under Hutch’s Afghan, bowls of steaming, fragrant broth on their laps, cheerfully condemning red shirted landing parties to untimely deaths. Before he knew it, Hutch’s bowl was empty.<\/p>\n
“That was good!”<\/p>\n
“See what you can do when you set your mind to it? More?”<\/p>\n
“Yes, please. And Starsk?”<\/p>\n
“Yes?”<\/p>\n
“Tomorrow, will you come for a walk on the beach with me?”<\/p>\n
Starsky’s smile was a mile wide. “Of course! That’s what\u2026”<\/p>\n
“If you say that’s what your mom said I’d say, I swear you won’t live to see the morning!”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Notes:<\/strong><\/span> Starsky’s soup<\/span><\/a><\/strong> would have been better if, after he strained it, he’d chilled it overnight then skimmed it before adding the vegetables and matzo balls. But he knew he needed to catch Hutch before he lost his appetite again so he skipped this stage. You can add any vegetables or none. Green beans are an unusual choice but they were growing in the greenhouse, so Starsky thought it was a shame not to use them.<\/p>\n Starsky puts dill in his matzo balls because his mom came from Eastern Europe and dill is a very popular herb there. You can use any herbs you like, fresh or dried. Or none at all.<\/p>\n A recipe and a story. Two for the price of one. Juggling paper sacks and keys, Starsky managed to get through the door without dropping anything — a minor miracle. Shaking his head and scattering a halo of raindrops, he pulled the door closed with his foot, and dumped the groceries in the kitchen before … Continue reading “December 6th- Making Soup Without a Can Opener by Curlew”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,18,11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-211","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fic","category-gen","category-sfw"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2021\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/211","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2021\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2021\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2021\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2021\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=211"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2021\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/211\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":344,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2021\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/211\/revisions\/344"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2021\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=211"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2021\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=211"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2021\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=211"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"\"](\"https:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2021\/calendar\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/12\/making-soup-without-300x240.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"