Parmesnip Soup, Eh?
Herein lies the recipe for parsnip and parmesan soup, as passed down from generation to generation of mighty Guildsmen who like their soups like they like their gold: golden.
If, like me, you find the whole process of food preparation to be a needless waste of time, just do this:
HACK: slice six parsnips in half, and chop up an onion.
COOK: dump it all onto baking tray with 25g of cheese and some oil, and cook at 200 degrees C (180 fan) for 45 mins.
DEVOUR: shove everything into a pan with 1.35 litres of veg stock and 25g more cheese, and blend it up all.
Job done – go do something more interesting than fucking cooking.
If you’d prefer to follow step by step instructions to create the tastiest version of this soup (27.7g carbs (9.5g sugar), 24.6g fat (11.7 saturated) and 76g carbs, 16.5g protein, 347 calories per bowl), read on. There are beefed up and leaned down versions at the bottom of the page, for those who are powering up or shedding excess body fat.
ACTIVATE COOKING MODE!
[toggle_box] [toggle_item title=”INGREDIENTS” active=”false”] This is roughly what you will need to create enough soup for six people. I consume this soup to myself in 1.5 sittings. So…it’s your call.- Parsnips. Let’s say six of them, shall we?
- 50g of parmesan cheese
- An onion
- Whatever you use to make stock
- Some butter
- Double cream and creme
- Chives? If you like ’em and/or can be bothered
- Double cream, or crème fraishe
Before doing anything else, stick the kettle on and pre-heat your oven to 200 degrees (180 degrees if your oven has a fan to assist it). Use Gas Mark 6 if you are of the old school. Use 400 degrees if, for some utterly baffling reason, your county still uses Farenheit.
Hack half a kilogram of parsnips into small clubs (as would be wielded a Barbarian Hamster) and stick on the kettle. While the kettle boils, pour some olive oil onto a barren baking tray and dump it into the oven.
When the kettle is ripe, harvest its water and use it to simmer the parsnips for 3 minutes. Use this time to concentrate on your breathing: mindfulness is often our only escape from the Inner Fury.
Drain the parsnips, hurl 25g of freshly-grated Parmesan cheese into their midst and toss them around roughly, as if you are trying to discover the whereabouts of their silver horde. They won’t tell you: parsnips are tough and stubborn. They also cannot speak. Because they are root vegetables.
When the interrogation is over, whip the baking tray from the oven without spilling hot oil over your hands or family. Scatter the cheesy parsnips across it. “YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE!” you may bellow, if you feel the need.
Distribute 15g of butter over the parsnips and shove the baking tray back into the oven for 45 minutes. Check it regularly to baste the bastards, and ensure you are not burning anything.
[toggle_box] [toggle_item title=”Things To Do For 45 Minutes” active=”false”] No Guildsman cares for calories: they are an inaccurate and pointless measure of a pointless thing. Nevertheless, other people seem to obsess about them – so here are some examples of stuff you can do to ‘burn’ calories whilst waiting for your soup.- Do some light yoga: burns 142 calories and centres the soul
- Walk around quite fast: burns 217 calories and helps you think
- Move your furniture around: burns 342 calories and restores your feng shui
- Attack a punching bag: burns 342 calories and focuses your bloodlust
- Fight another person: burns 354 calories (depending on the person) and makes you mightier
- Do some high intensity bodyweight exercises: burns 458 calories and makes you more powerful
- Run 7.5km: burns 571 calories and makes you more capable of performing feats of endurance without being sick
- Watch any old TV because you’re so tiiiiiiiiired: burns 0 calories, obliterates your imagination and short term memory, and makes you generally weaker in every conceivable way. Nice one, be proud. If you’re tired, do something that energises you – you fucking idiot.
When there are only a few minutes of cooking time left, hack up an onion into hundreds of smaller onion-pieces.
When the full cooking time has elapsed, bellow with triumph, haul the baking tray from the oven and pour whatever oil is left into a pan fit for a King…of Soups. If there is no oil left…I dunno, pour some more in. Or some butter. Whatever. Then toss in the onion-children and fry them in until they are weakened: soft and sort of see-through. While you wait, boil the kettle YET AGAIN!
When the onion is ready, flick into the mix a tablespoon of flour (surprise!). Let the floury onion pieces cook for a minute, while you create for yourself 1.35 litres of vegetable stock. Take a moment to bask in its simple glory – then slosh it into the pan with the floury-onion-children.
Bring the whole thing TO THE BOIL, then IMMEDIATELY chuck in the tiny parsnip clubs. Cover it all with a lid, and simmer it for about 10 mins. You may simmer as well, if you wish. Brooding, like the raven.
You will be left with yellow goop. SMASH IT into the form of a soup. Add 25g more Parmesan, for fun, then stir in 4 tablespoons of double cream (or crème fraishe) and reheat the whole thing.
Serve with black pepper and a decorative flourish of your broadsword.
Rough Nutrional Content Per Bowl
Calories: 347
Carbohydates: 27.7g (9.5 sugar)
Protein: 17g
Fat: 24.16 (11.7 saturated)
VARIATIONS!
BEEF IT UP!
Or rather, TURKEY IT UP! Fry 200g of sliced turkey with the onion to add 200 calories to the soup, mainly in the form of 140g of lean rotein.
If you’re totally insane or cooking up a healing potion, use 400g of turkey to create a mighty ‘soup’ containing 2644 calories and 382g of protein! Divide into 6 portions and drink one every three hours to feel your muscles knit themselves back together.
LEAN IT DOWN
If you believe a cheese-based soup will help you lose fat, you may want to consider using half the Parmesan and leaving out the butter and crème fraishe. This will bring the calorific content of the whole soup down to something like 500 total, or 125 per bowl, but also reduce the tastiness accordingly.
Please note, I own none of the photograph in this post. I stole it. From the internet. Which means it is probably owned by Facebook, in some twist of modern circumstance. This is my confession. I cannot be sued, because I own less than nothing.