This is a great lazy cheat for awesome slurpy food when you’ve got some soup leftovers. (Note: This only works for clear soups, mostly the Asian sort. And of course, minestrone soup.)
I know I’ve sorta made a post about this before but hey, this is specifically for Coucous in Chinese Chicken Soup. You might say it’s a level up from Couscous, Stocked.
- Get your chicken soup leftover into a bowl and chuck it into the microwave for 2 minutes.
- Yes, that’s TWO minutes on high heat; you want it piping hot.
- And then in goes the couscous, right into the blistering hot bowl of soup. TIP! The ratio for this a little tricky. But basically, you need enough liquid to cover the coucous. Since you’re doing the reverse i.e. adding couscous to liquid, add the grains just so that there’s still enough water to cover the coucous. In this case, it’s okay to put less than more. (When the couscous is done, the grains would have been completely swollen with tasty goodness.)
- Cover with a plate or lid for 5-7 minutes.
- Have it hot, like you would with chunky soup.
Photography: Sarah Lee
I got a suggestion from a friend to try this one out – Marmite Pasta. (In case you don’t know what Marmite is, it’s made from yeast extract, a by-product of beer brewing. Imagine a concentrated gravy, thick and sticky.) It’s Nigella Lawson’s recipe, which she got from someone else, and I’m sharing it here. I decided to have an evening snack and had no idea what I was getting myself into.
This five-minute meal is incredibly easy to make. While the pasta is cooking, toss a wad of butter into a hot saucepan. Add Marmite, according how salty you’d like it to be. Then, steal some of that starchy pasta-cooking water and add it to the saucepan as well. Stir and smile to yourself.
At this stage, I got itchy and dumped a portion of minced beef into the sauce. It reminded me fondly of Bovril, which is similar to Marmite, except that it’s beef extract. Well, at the least the original one is, until Mad Cow Disease changed it to chicken extract. I remember. When I was a kid, every time I was down with a fever, Dad would spread Bovril on toast and cut each slice into sixteen smaller parts. Then, he would stick a couple of toothpicks in each piece, so the plate resembled a dish of cocktail finger food. He did this ‘cos he knew I didn’t feel like eating proper food. Thanks, Dad. (:
Anyway, away from memory lane now. Finally, drain and add the pasta to the sauce. Mix and serve. Gobble and slurp.