I have been on a mad gracefulness roll lately let me tell you. If there was a falling over things, dropping things and just generally whomping about like the 3 Stooges less physically adroit sister Olympics (which, now that I think of it, there should be) I would be a gold medalist this week. At work every time I go to pick up a stack of books, which is to say approximately every four minutes, the middle of the stack will cascade out of my hands and onto the floor or my toes. At home, I have stumbled, tripped and, in a beautiful and perfect moment of its own kind, stepped on the dog’s water bowl, which action caused it in a wonderful illustration of physics to upend and pour all its contents INTO MY SHOE. Dansko, to be precise. Water filled Dansko, to be even more precise – they are surprisingly leakproof if you had ever wondered, like yes, you could conceivably drink champagne out of one if you wanted to be. . . um, I am not sure what you would be, drinking champagne out of a Dansko. Anyway, that moment I had to laugh at and tweet about, because you know I don’t think anyone could even do it on purpose.
Last night I had a glass of wine and then bethought me of the NY Times Sunday magazine I had filched from the Queen of Bohemia’s house because of its fabulous 2 page spread on gazpacho. They are calling any cold uncooked soup gazpacho by the way, which irritates me, but whatever, all the recipes looked amazing and I happened to have all the ingredients for traditional gazpacho on hand or at least growing in the front yard. So I started to make gazpacho and just as the food processor got filled up with beautiful veggies Kundalini Express came on the iPod and I thought, oooh, I should make an Instagram video of the gazpacho with a Love and Rockets soundtrack, it will be beautiful and sophisticated and super cool and I will be the toast of the internet.
I fired up the phone and cranked up the speakers and decided that just because instagram video has previously crashed my phone every single fucking time didn’t mean it would happen THIS time and started filming away. It was all going swimmingly and so I happily twisted the lid of the food processor and pushed the on button with one hand while filming with the other in a singularly elegant and sophisticated way.
And I probably should have thought of the fact that the thing that fits into the spout of the food processor is long since lost and that meant the top was actually open and the machine was rather full. Which means I should in turn have expected the fountain of gazpacho that erupted all over the kitchen and even my phone which flew in a rather elegant and sophisticated arc across the table and into a puddle of gazpacho as I shouted FUCK! into the video and lunged for the off button.
Fortunately or unfortunately, Instagram video crashes my phone every single fucking time I try to use it and this time was no exception, which is kind of too bad, because it was a moment that should have been preserved for posterity. By posterity I mean your posterity, because this luckily happened while my posterity were not home and if they don’t ever find out about it I would be okay with that. They have these sort of evil senses of humor, my posterity – who knows where they got that? – and they would be unlikely to let me live it down. The gazpacho I rescued was delicious, by the way, and even the Queen herself enjoyed it. So here is the sort of recipe, lifted from the NY Times without compunction. The parts in bold are theirs, the not bolded parts are mine. It won’t be the same without Love and Rockets, though, or Bauhaus in a pinch.
2 lbs tomatoes. I used like 5 because that’s what I had that was ripe plus the two halves in the fridge. I didn’t want to sacrifice my Giant Tomato because I am saving it for . . something. I don’t know what yet. Anyway my gazpacho could conceivably have been a bit tomatoier because it was more orangeish than red but it was still delicious.
1 medium cucumber, peeled – it doesn’t say that but all I have are these wonderful pickling cucumbers cross pollinated with yellow Indian cucumbers and while they have a great flavor the skin is kind of tough, so. Your mileage may vary.
1/2 yellow bell pepper. I used a whole purple one out of the garden because I have purple bell peppers, y’all, yes, PURPLE!
2 thick bread slices. I used a hunk of slightly elderly foccaccia from Aldi.
1/4 cup olive oil
2 TBSP red wine vinegar
1 garlic clove
1 cup water – I ended up using about 1/2 cup because of the eruption and all, see, I was going to pour it in for the video, gracefully.
salt & pepper, well duh
Put it all in the food processor and process away. Remember to really close the lid of the food processor because all that oil makes it rather difficult to clean up, as in I think I will still be finding bits of gazpacho some months from now and my glasses got all oily, even, which they still kind of are because I am a lazy, lazy person. Oil and eruptions aside, it is delicious and you should go make some right now.