The ordinary extraordinary: lime coconut curry soup
Sometimes words bubble up in my chest. There’s a tingle. A pressure. Incomprehensible images flash across my eyes. Made more of feeling than light. And sometimes it’s hard to decipher what the words are trying to say.
I’m learning to enjoy the mystery. To wonder and sit in awe of what we call the mind, the body, the sky. As I walked through farm country last night, the atmosphere’s curve bent the blue and cloudy sky toward the sun, so it seemed all would collapse. But it didn’t. The giant rock we call the moon stayed suspended.
I think it’s wonder that grounds me in the present. When I notice the wind rippling tall grass or a robin cocking it’s head to get a better look at me or the sun shimmering the window screen. I’m happiest when I’m aware of the ordinary extraordinary.
When I let this moment breathe instead of measuring how many moments stack before the next moment.
Abraham Joshua Heschel said: “Awe is an intuition for the dignity of all things.”
Maybe awe is the path forward. “Awe embeds the individual self in a social identity.” Says Dacher Keltner—a professor of psychology at UC Berkeley. During one study, people were more likely to define themselves as part of a collective (e.g., culture, species, movement) when they looked at a T-Rex replica than when they looked down a hallway. And in another study, those who gazed up at eucalyptus trees for a minute were more likely to help a fellow human than those who gazed up at a building.
Dr. Keltner says that momentary experiences of awe lead to curiosity. Heschel says that wonder is the beginning of awe, and awe is the beginning of wisdom. It seems wonder begets awe and awe begets wonder and both beget wisdom and compassion and connection.
I woke up feeling blue today. It’s day one of month ten of trying to have a baby. A constant exercise in expectation management. So I decided to let the moment breathe. To wonder at flavors and textures. To see the extraordinary in the ordinary. A soup for the Junuary we’re having—in terms of weather and everything else. It’s spicy and warm and bright. Maybe it can bring wonder and connection and comfort to us all.
Servings: 4 Time: 40 minutes Via: Apple Tree
Using leftover rice makes this a fast meal, but it works with fresh rice, too. Just give yourself enough time to make and cool the rice before the crisping step below (about an hour).
This is a super adaptable soup. Add bell pepper with the onion. Garnish with mint or blistered peanuts. Throw in some pan-fried tofu. Substitute rice noodles (vermicelli style) for the rice. To name a few.
The lime juice is key here. Be sure not to skimp.
1 ½ cups leftover rice (I like short-grain brown best), crisped
1 yellow onion, diced
2 tablespoons fresh ginger, grated
3 garlic cloves, pressed/minced
2 tablespoons coconut oil
Diamond brand kosher salt to taste
2 tablespoons green curry paste
4 cups vegetable broth
2 cups coconut milk
2 teaspoons rice wine vinegar
4 stalks baby bok choy, chopped
Red pepper flakes to taste
Neutral oil for crisping rice (e.g., peanut or safflower oil)
Juice of 1 ½ limes + wedges for serving
Cilantro for garnish
Basil (Thai or sweet) for garnish
Dice the onion.
Grate the ginger. (I store fresh ginger in the freezer and grate it on the second smallest side of my box grater or a zester. No need to remove the skin first.)
Press the garlic.
Heat the coconut oil in a stockpot over medium heat. Once melted, add the onion and a large pinch of salt. Cook until translucent and soft—about 5 minutes.
Add the ginger, garlic, and curry paste to the onion and cook for another minute or two—until fragrant.
Add the vegetable broth, coconut milk, and rice wine vinegar. Use a wooden spoon to deglaze (get any stuck-on bits off the bottom of the pot). Bring to a boil.
While the liquid is coming to a boil, chop the bok choy into bite-sized pieces. Add the bok choy to the soup.
Add a small pinch of red pepper flakes. Bring back to a boil and then turn the heat off and cover with a lid.
Heat a skillet over medium to medium-high heat. Add a thin layer of oil. Once the oil shimmers, add the leftover rice in a thin, even layer. Sprinkle a little salt over the top. Cook for about 3 minutes and then flip the rice over in sections. Cook another 3 minutes or so.
Divide the rice among serving bowls.
Add the juice of 1 1/2 limes to the soup. Stir and taste. Add any additional salt, red pepper flakes, and lime needed.
Ladle the soup into the bowls over the rice. Garnish with basil and cilantro and extra lime wedges.