wine | Jenna's Everything Blog

This is a post about my Saturday night date with the Pioneer Woman’s bathtub and a glass of red. But it’s also a post about Christmas.

Here’s how I tie them together: for some people, Christmas is a time of insane busyness. Running around, shopping, cooking, and doing laundry in preparation for hosting multitudes of guests may not be everyone’s idea of a relaxing time.

The holidays are great, but I’ve talked to so many people who simply get stressed.

After my post documenting the beer in the shower experiment, a number of you planted the seed of red wine in the bathtub. And this seed blossomed into a flower, which grew into a tree, which one day was cut down by a bunch of opportunistic loggers who . . . anyway, the point is, I tried it. As soon as I saw the amazing tub available to me at our room in the Lodge, I knew it was fate.

I love the simple, clean lines of the Pioneer Woman’s bathroom design. The whole room was screaming ‘PEACE AND WELL BEING!’

Except it wasn’t really screaming because that wouldn’t be very peaceful. Think of it more as a screaming whisper.

The only exception to this message of peace was the sink area, which was taken over by a ruffian band of make-up and lotion products.

Anyway, beer in the shower–it was fine. But wine in the tub–yeeeeeeesssss!

By the way, any time you see me type the word ‘yeeeeeeesssss,’ please understand I’m not just saying ‘yes’ in a cute blogging exaggerated way. I’m actually quoting Gimli from ‘The Lord of the Rings’ movie when Aragorn is like “Let’s hunt some Orc” and Gimli lets loose that ‘yeeeeeeesssss’ that could cause the walls of Jericho to fall down on their butts.

The hot water, the spicy red liquid–it’s dreamy.

So my remedy for Christmas stress is: pop into a tub with a glass of your favorite wine. Sit back. Relax. Close your eyes. Enjoy. And keep the bottle nearby for refills.

Normally during my showers I compose mental lists of things I need to get done before bedtime. I think about food. I plan what I’m going to get who for Christmas. But you know what was going through my brain during that bath at the P-Dub’s?

Nothing. Absolute Zero. It was like my mind was in a washing machine. A relaxing, spa-designed washing machine that left my brain white, sparkly, and stupid.

Stupid in the good way, of course. In the empty, Zen kind of sense.

Merry almost-Christmas everyone. Treat yourselves!

*Disclaimer: don’t drink too much! Don’t drink unless you’re not only 21 but also a responsible adult and person! No drunk in the tub/drowning experiences allowed! Please let me know if I need to write anything else to cover my butt in a legal sense. I’m sorry I said ‘butt’!

If you’ve looked at any of my recipes at all, you know one thing: I love garlic.

And I love cream. So that’s two things.

We could also add mushrooms in there for number three . . . and how could I forget rice?? So if you’ve looked at any of my recipes at all, you actually know four things. *Insert clever statement of your choice referencing Monty Python’s Spanish Inquisition skit*

This garlic soup recipe came to me from on high. It came via Tasty Kitchen, Pioneer Woman’s recipe sharing site. It came with angelic choruses singing in the starlit sky. It came with blazes of glory, strings of diamonds and pearls, and ribbons in its hair.

It is g-e-w-d. That means ‘good’ in case you’re a step behind things this morning.

I’m a step behind things this morning. But that’s another story, which my next cup of coffee with Peppermint Mocha creamer should put a lovely ending to–a lovely ending such as: “and then the girl with the saggy eyes poured herself a cup of office coffee laced with Peppermint Mocha creamer and she lived happily! Ever! After! Her eyes went from saggy to bloodshot! Then she started typing at 1,000 WPM and cranking out her morning’s work! And the people rejoiced!”

It’s the power of caffeine on a grey morning, folks.

Anyway, enough falderal. We’ve got to get this thing started or I’ll just keep jibber-jabbering all morning long and we’ll never get to the part with the soup in it. Let’s boil it down to the bare facts: cream. Garlic. Wine. Garlic. Cheese. Garlic.

Ingredients

1 TBS olive oil

1 large onion, thinly sliced

16 cloves garlic, smashed

1 c dry white wine

4 c chicken stock

1 Bay leaf

2 cups French bread, torn into pieces

3/4 c heavy whipping cream

½ cups shredded Gruyère or Parmesan

First things first: slice your onion and smash your garlic.

You can see my container of pre-peeled garlic lurking there in the background. It’s one of the many delights provided by my local Asian grocery store.

Now heat the oil in a large pot and add the onion and garlic.

Cook over medium heat for 10 to 12 minutes, by the end of which they will start to get goldeny brown. It’s called caramelization and it’s the greatest culinary technique in creation.

Make sure your wine bottle is open. This funky opener was made for girls like me, who have broken corks untold with traditional bottle openers. It’s called a rabbit, and it would be a great Christmas gift for the struggling wine-opener in your family.

Add the white wine and cover the pot.

Reduce the heat to low, and cook for 10 minutes, giving it a stir every now and then.

It’s now looking something like this, and smelling like your wildest dreams come true.

Pour in the chicken stock and the bay leaf–you could easily use vegetable stock to make this dish vegetarian.

Bring it to a boil . . .

. . . then cover the pot and simmer it over low heat for 30 minutes.

I used this time to tear up my bread, grate my Parmesan, and measure out my cream.

Yes, it’s my Parmesan and my cream. Not the cream. Mine, mine, mine!! All mine!!! Though I will kindly share the cellulitis with you.

Yes, I cheated and used Parmesan even though I specifically used ‘Gruyère’ in the recipe title. But have you seen the prices on Gruyère these days? Have you seen them? And the Parmesan was on sale for $3.49 a wedge! They made me do it!

Try not to consume all the bread and parmesan before its time.

After those 30 minutes are up, turn off the stove and add the torn bread pieces . . .

. . . cover the pot and let it sit for 10 minutes. The bread will get mushy and schmushy–don’t question the process. Just believe.

Take the bay leaf out and try not to wonder why it’s glimmering like gold. Is it a leaf from Loth-Lorien?

I think Galadriel would totally dig this soup, yo.

Now put your immersion blender in and puree this baby.

You can also pour the soup into a regular blender (working in batches) and whizz it there, but make sure not to hurt or burn yourself in the process. I’ve heard stories of exploding soups and I want to make sure those do not take place in your life or kitchen.