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Posts Tagged ‘tomatsoppa’


Candace Jacks unga släktling Shelby har tjatat sig till att få bjuda hem bröderna Kyle och Klint till sin tant. Tanken är att den rika miss Jack ska bli så förtjust i bröderna att hon går med på att försörja dem så de slipper flytta till sin mamma efter att pappan hastigt dött. Både miss Jack och Klint tycker att detta är en usel idé, men går med på att träffas vid en middag.
Miss Jack har en egen spansk kock, Louis. Det är lillebror Kyle som för ordet.

Following at her heels is a short, brown man in butter-colored pants and a turquoise shirt carrying a basket of bread and a big glass pitcher of water with ice and lemon slices in it. He’s bald except for a ring of gray hair around the top of his head yhat’s the same color as the bristly mustache covering his upper lip and drooping down both cheeks. His face is shiny, smooth, and round like a Buddha’s face, but his body isn’t fat at all. His eyes are black and friendly.
”Luis,” Miss Jack says to him, ”this is Klint and Kyle Hayes.”
He nods at each of us, smiling.
”Mucho gusto”, he says.
He sets down the bread, pours water for all of us, then disappeares and comes back right away with four bowls of soup and another bowl of olives on a tray.
”Sopa crema de tomate”, he announces.
He puts a steaming bowl in front of each of us. It looks like tomato soup, but it has a white swirl of something in it and a bunch of green leaves on top.
Shelby sticks her head near the bowl, closes her eyes, and takes a big sniff of the soup. She looks up at me smiling dreamily.
”I love Louis’s homemade tomato soup. It’s so good.”
She picks up her spoon and stirs it slowly until the white stuff disappears.
”I never thought about anyone making tomato soup from tomatoes before”, I say. ”I guess I always thought it originated in nature as a red blob of paste in a soup can.”
Shelby laughs at my joke.
I look over at Klint, who’s staring at the leaves in his soup like they’re turds.
”What’s this on top?”, I ask for him.
”Some sour cream and fresh basil. Try it. You’ll love it.”
I stir it the way she did and take a bite.
”She’s right,” I tell him. ”It’s great. It doesn’t taste anything like Campbell’s.”
”I like Campbell’s,” he grumbles.
”This is a nice house”, I say to Miss Jack, in an attempt to change the subject from food.

Jag har skrivit om Tawni O’Dells Fragile beasts här och här (och lite här och här) En mycket mycket bra bok.

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