Earlier this week, I thought up the perfect soup and was determined to make it the way I had envisioned it in my mind. It was going to consist of chicken, rice, mushrooms, kale, broccoli, carrots, chicken stock, olive oil, thyme, and sea salt. I could hardly wait to get it started. Of course, I'm not, exactly, the greatest at experimental cooking. I work better with recipes, already measured to perfection. Thus, I decided to check the internet, briefly, for a recipe along the lines of what I had in mind. Unfortunately, I couldn't find one exactly right, so I concluded to simply chop everything up and throw it into the crockpot. This is how other people did it, right? Life on the edge?
After some time, my apartment began to be filled with a beautiful smell, and that's when I decided it had to be close. When everything was thouroughly cooked, but not too cooked, I tried the first sip. Oh man was it good! Proudly, I took down a bowl and filled it to the brim. "Who needs a recipe, anyway?" I thought. Well, that's what I thought, at first. Upon further inspection of my masterpiece, I found that it didn't really look like a masterpiece. It look pretty gross actually. And, furthermore, although the taste was good, the rice was a bit cruchier than it should have been. Kind of like rocks. So, lesson learned: Taste is not everything.
