Do? Do Not.

This weekend I took an extra day off. For me, there are Do days and Do Not days. Most days turn into Do's, without planning them that way. You've forgotten to pick something up at the pharmacy, but on the way, you stop at the deli because there are only 3 slices of bread left so you're going to need more soon, but before you go the phone rings and your mom needs you to give her coworker advice because her 18-year old son is about to move into the city and won't he just get shot his first day there? And before you know it, all the hours are gone and you've blindly careened through them. Whoosh.

A weekend of Do days is hardly a break. I took Monday so I could Do Not. It consisted of whim after whim. Hm, I think I'll treat Q to brunch for her birthday! Hm, I think I'll eat an ice cream cone! I think I'll wander through Anthropologie and buy nothing because who in the hell can afford ANYTHING at Anthropologie! Even off the sale rack! Guess what! Fifty dollars for an asymmetrical cotton tee-shirt is not a bargain, you guys! Whims, if you couldn't tell yet, are rife with unnecessary exclamation points. Just lousy with 'em.

A big part of a Do Not day is also cooking without a recipe. Recipes, written ones with food stains, torn messily out of magazines, are a very Do practice. Do this. Do that. Do eat what you've made with satisfaction. I much prefer to end a day like Monday with a contrary experience. Do Not go shopping – use what you have in the house. Do Not look up anything online – trust your instincts and feel your way through. Do Not expect anything – keep tasting and let the dish become what it's supposed to. It's totally zen cooking. The Dalai Lama would love this soup. If you keep a well-stocked pantry (which I'm still figuring out, half-assedly) you've probably got something in there and you don't even know it. Do Not let the hours get away from you. Hold them close and make this soup.

Garlic cloves, minced

onions, carrots, celery, all diced

a can of diced tomatoes

one cup of tiny pasta like tubetti (so cute!)

extras: a bunch of shredded swiss chard, some chunks of yukon gold potatoes, a sliced parsnip, some frozen corn, pieces of a leftover fennel bulb, a zucchini...

This is more of a guiding format than a map itself. Be sure you cook like with like – hard, root-ey vegetables that take a while to soften first, then softer stuff later so it doesn't turn to mush. Adjust as you like it – less onion, tons of garlic. You're the one who's going to eat it!

Sweat the onions, carrots, and celery in a pot with a splash of olive oil until they get soft, and then add the garlic. Once that raw garlicky smell mellows out, add other stuff you might want (except a leafy green like chard). As it all softens together, season with S+P and add your chosen herbs – rosemary and thyme work nicely with this group of characters. Once it's all soft and looking like it belongs together, add your can of tomatoes and a can and a half's worth of water. Bring it all to a boil and once it's there, add the pasta and drop to a simmer for about 12 minutes. If you want, add the chard or other greenery after your pasta is to the right consistency, and after you've adjusted for salt and herb-ey-ness, let it all hang out for another 10 or so. If there's a God, you'll end up with a nice simple pot of soup that, while a bit homely and basic, will satisfy you because it is what it is, and nothing less.