31/07/06 chickpea and tumeric soup

Fortunes were revealed and destiny discussed over a bowl of chickpea and tumeric soup with Sam, Mel, Sri, Claire, Luke, Julie, Dave and Stef. To belittle is to be little, and we should be affectionaite to those around us. But is this our destiny? Is it pre-determined, or does it change with each decision one makes?
Oh and lots of talk of babies as one would expect with an expectant mother in the room. Is it sex, spicy food, or three men and a baby that brings on labour - or a combination of the three (?!).

matt maquarie's divine orange soup - 24/07/06

\went something a little like this:
the eleven apostles - claire, enrique, luke, dianne, boris, julie, richard, eva, sri, monkey and sam feasted, as though it were their last, on a soup made orange in colour, but there were no oranges in it. there were, however, grapefruits in it - as well as lentils, carrots, and orange sweet potato. enrique made it, having swiped the recipe from claire. our first guest chef. it was very thick and a little spicy. oh, and sam burned an apple tart for dessert and people made polite remarks like, "oh, no, i like my apple tarts...ahh.... well-done".

the standout conversation.. is there a god?

enrique & sam: god is (although we define 'god' in a mystical sense, akin to buddhist annihilation).
julie: god may be, how could one know ?
sri: no god. people invoke the concept as a psychological manouevre to cope with existential anxiety.
claire: something is, but words are inadequate to describe it.
mel: (how strange - i don't know the thoughts of my own concubine on god, even after monday night. perhaps it's because she's divine, and needn't utter pedestrian opinions?).
luke: don't talk to me of god. i'm too wretched.

bloggers opinion: that whole god working in mysterious ways whenever something doesn't go to plan thing really is a bit clutching at straws..

A potted history of soup by Sam

29.05.06 carrot, tomato and sumac
05.06.06 spicy black bean and chocolate
12.06.06 yellow lentil
26.06.06 vegetable and barley (mel)
03.07.06 pumpkin and coconut
10.07.06 french vegetable and pistou (mel)
17.07.06 cauliflower (soup of love)

we tried, but couldn't produce guest lists or conversation topics for the various nights with any confidence of accuracy. much of the detail of the particular nights has blended together - much like a soup - in our minds.
no matter. we go on from here.

Enrique Del Val

I still remember my first soup. We were young, the football world cup was still to come, John and Pete were close mates, the world was a place more or less in peace.
I attended giving no notice because I wanted to annoy the hosts. Not much later, I tried it again bringing friends along to eat. I started arriving late, interrupting conversations and wearing t-shirts with pathetic slogans. Like the saucepan those originated from, the loving kindness and generosity of Sel and Mam seemed not to have limits.
From today to the day when you may have to go through slim chics in roller skates who talk to you about the latest trendy soft drink, to cross the door in Belvoire St, I would have liked to bless the Monday's dinner soups. But I've been told (and realized) that they already are.
I reckon Pako is looking forward enjoying their own bowl.

A bunch of stuff in a pot

My friends Sam and Mel have soup night every Monday. Brilliant. A bunch of people, a bunch of conversation, and a bunch of stuff thrown in a pot. With a different soup, cast and script each week, this blog attempts to archive the nights for all involved, but also look at threads and patterns of ingredients people and soup in the quest for a perfect combination if there is such a thing. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Monday night.