Chicken Tortilla

It was my third day on the job. I'd never worked in a professional kitchen before. I was still going through culture shock. I go to my endless list of things to prepare and see that I have to make a soup for the day. I look around in the recipe book and find nothing. "Where's the recipe?" I ask. "In your head" Is my reply. I am then told that I must make something up on the spot and utilize as much as the left-over ingredients from other dishes as possible. I look at the shelf in the refrigerator and see a shelf marked "miscellaneous." These are the left-over, extra, discarded, flotsam and jetsam of the kitchen. All good. All eat-able. But quite a hodgepodge. I look it over. I see black beans. I see tomato pieces. I see bell pepper pieces. I see salsa. I see...... Chicken Tortilla Soup.

I bake off a few extra chicken breasts.
I grab celery, onion, and bell peppers. (The Holy Trinity.)
Visiting the dry-storage room, I gather up my spices: cumin, cayenne pepper, chili powder, salt, and black pepper.

Why these spices? Well...let's just stick to the star of this piece: Cumin.
During the Middle Ages, it was believed that this magical spice kept chickens and lovers from wandering. This may have a kernel of truth to it. Cumin is incredibly aromatic. You don't have to use much to let the whole neighborhood know that you're having tacos for supper. I mention tacos because (I shiver at the thought of typing these words. ) "Tex-Mex" is a popular type of food these days in the U.S. of A. But cumin has been around for centuries. The ancient Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans used it. It's even mentioned not only in the New Testament of the Bible, but in the Old Testament as well. Today, its used in Mexican, Thai, Vietnamese, and Indian cuisines. You may come across a cook book stating that ground cumin and ground corriander are the same spice. Do not trust that book. Put it away. It is evil. Cumin is completely different to the discerning pallet. Corriander is not it's only evil twin. Oh no, there's an evil triplet...caraway. Although they are similarly umbelliferous (having blossoms shaped like umbrellas), caraway is not nearly as hot to the taste and is much darker in color.
Thus end'th the lesson on cumin.

Like most good soups, I start with a Mirpois. I utilize the Holy Trinity of celery, onion, and bell peppers (including garlic) by sauteeing for a few minutes in olive oil. Then I deglaze with lime juice and add the chicken stock and spices. After that gets brewing, I put in my tomatoes, salsa, blackbeans, and chicken (cut into bite-sized pieces). I try it. It's not bad. But it's missing something. Ah...it lacks a certain fresh-herbiness. Cilantro is best suited for this dish. It's another herb that's used in .... (shivers) "Tex-Mex" cooking. I choose not to thicken this soup. I like the way it smells like chili, but has a kind of potage brothiness about it.

I tell the chef that I'm all done and she asks me to write down the ingredients and make a garnish for the soup. "A garnish?" I ask myself. I didn't even think about that. I told her that it didn't really matter what the cooks used, but I mentioned some suggestions. She told me that the soup was my creation and that the garnish should not be a suggestion, but a command as to how the soup will be presented. I felt so proud that I got to create something of my own. I had no idea that this was a task I would be performing 2 or 3 times a week. For the garnish: a dollop of jalapeno sour cream in the middle, a few tortilla slivers, and a sprinkling of lime zest.

It was heavenly. Light but filling. Spicy but not too hot. Chef described the soup as "excellent." She then informed me that this was a test and I did well, commenting on my "perfect" balance of spices. This made me very pleased with myself......because I plan to open my own restaurant that specializes in soups and breads. It's good to know that I have a knack for soup.