Wayne came home and fought with me tonight; he claims (and this is funny) that I’m spending too much time on the interweb. He claims my internetting (mostly work on my food blog) is getting in the way of his supper – and conversation, he said. (But I think it’s mostly about his supper – and his inability to jump online himself to look at keyhole saws or Weird Place to Live again. Anyway.)

He came home late, starving after a long drive back to the city. I was standing at the counter, internetting. The only thing in the kitchen was a tupperware of my mother’s meatballs; I had eaten three. It was my running night, and he knew I’d be eating early, in the name of proper digestion before exertion, and he would fend for himself.

As great stores of protein fuelled my typing, the vegetarian quickly wilted into a rotten green heap. He started breathing in a showy way – showy for Wayne – a way that sounded angry. He stormed to the cupboard and lurched away from it wielding (and eating) a giant knob of chocolate-hazelnut bar. We are cleansing; that is not on the cleanse. He ate it so I could see it.

Then he took whiskey out of the cupboard and poured it into a fancy little wine goblet. Not cleansy.

And then he turned on you, dear reader! He said, “We need limits!” He said, “Herman was right! A laptop takes over every room it’s in.” He said, “No more computer in the kitchen.”

It’s a food blog.

And so I promised him calmly that I would defame him tonight on the very blog he so hungrily threatened.

But the real point is, the bad and evil internetting I was engaged in while I starved him was (naturally) supper research. A supper that was in our stomachs not 12 minutes after the dust cleared.

It was this wonderful Thai-inspired quick-as-anything soup from the latest issue of Chatelaine:


(Disclaimer: I frequent the place.)

The baby’s flu has turned to a cold, and we’re all getting it, so this slightly spicy, gingery, coconutty soup was the ultimate remedy. All its ingredients are staples in our pantry.

It was also a respectably malleable soup, perfect for making good use of leftover vegetables in the fridge. We substituted the veg it called for with steamed broccoli from a couple of nights prior, baby spinach that didn’t have much longer on this earth, the last of the snow peas (meant for a stir fry that never happened), a big handful of cilantro, several sweet chunks of pineapple (wonderful in a Thai broth. I won’t tell you whose idea that was, or how good it was, on account of someone’s supposed to be getting defamed here), a little crab meat (pollock would do) and leftover takeout rice scooped into our own bowls.

It was delicious – and fast enough to quell everyone’s fire before things got carried away, before the rest of the chocolate-hazelnut bar – tool of war – did any more damage.

We ate our soup side by side on the couch. The pineapple made this really good, I told him.

He said, “It’d be like having a TV in every room of the house!”

You need to support my blog, I told him.

He said, “I do support your blog. We have to get a flash for your camera. You can’t photograph food without a decent flash. We can’t photograph my food oddities without a flash. Where are my food oddities?”

If he gets me a flash for Valentine’s I’ll show him – and I’ll show you too.