I have been using this rainy afternoon to indulge in some slow-food cooking. (We got Grandma's gutters done yesterday, just in time for today's rain, and I'm much more satisfied with life since. Thank goodness. Rainy days seem to calm me down.)

The ingredients I was working with got me thinking of my sisters, and "sisterhood" in general. So I indulged myself with some creative time while the pot is simmering on the stove, writing out this recipe in a letter to my sisters, and I liked it so much I thought I'd post it here, too.

So for all of you out there who I could be cooking for and with right now: this is me, sharing an afternoon in the kitchen, by proxy.

I was puttering around, using up leftovers and odds and ends, and thinking what kind of soup/dal/chili to make with the beans I'd left soaking. I realized I was including the "three sisters", corn, beans, and squash. They're legendary companions in the garden and in the kitchen.

The other ingredients include: chickpeas and tomatoes, reinforcing the womanly theme ... and then, onions & garlic. What does that mean, tears and protection? No-nonsense strength?

It made me think of a big group of womenfolk all cooking together and gossiping and comforting whoever was upset that day -- crying and laughing over the onions, telling stories, exchanging advice, sharing lives.

So this is sort of “three-sisters-in-a-kitchen--with-cousins--and-friends--don’t-cry--sit-down--warm-up--and-tell-me-the-latest” soup, except that’s way too long to write on a recipe card. The cooking time is part of the pleasure; it's a couple of hours of slow-down time. The rainbow colors, smells, flavors, and nourishment are cheering and hearty.

Three Sisters Rainy Day Stew:

Beans (2+ cups): e.g. Black beans and chickpeas (1 cup each)
Corn (whole kernels, about 1 cob or 1 can)
Squash: 2 zucchini or summer squash, or leftover cooked winter squash (acorn, butternut)
Tomatoes - stewed or fresh, 1-2 cups / 1 can
Butter or oil (2 tbsp)
1 onion
2 cloves garlic
Soup base: leftover pureed-vegetable soup, or stock, about 1 cup
Salt
Spices (curry, cumin, pepper, thyme, fennel, parsley, etc.)
Optional: green onion, cheese, garnishes

Soak the beans overnight. (Use whatever colorful beans are in your cupboard). I used about:

-2 cups combined black beans and chickpeas.

Drain the water. Rinse them if you like, and leave these legumes sitting in a big pot ready to cook.

In a cast-iron frying pan (I can use all the iron I can get) gently melt

-a little butter. Put the heat on as low as you need, while you crush
-a couple cloves of garlic,

and toss ‘em in the pan. They’ll let you know if the butter starts trying to burn. Chop up the

-onion

(I use a trick I learned in the Joy of Cooking: set it on its roots, and cut a grid down into the onion from the stem-end. Then turn it sideways, and slice off the pieces until I'm left with the root-end. It usually won’t squirt as much tear-juice this way).

Fry the onion bits with the garlic in the butter, flip ‘em around, get the edges sealed and browned. If you keep on top of ‘em, you won’t need more oil. If you feel dexterous, you can start the next part while they're cooking. Once they’re done, take ‘em off the heat.

Juice up those legumes: Add to your pot of beans, some leftover soup. I used almost a cup of combined

-creamy tomato soup and
-creamy butternut squash soup (both are pureed vegetables, not milky soups)

You can substitute any kind of soup stock, chicken might be nice, or veggie.

While we’re at it, let’s throw in some other good soaking veggies -- like

-corn kernels (I used the last withered corncob from the summer garden; try canned corn.)
-tomatoes (28-oz stewed, a few fresh cherry tomatoes, whatever’s on hand), and
-a pinch of salt. (Unless your soup is already blessed with salty stock.)

Throw in the onions, which you have narrowly avoided burning, giving them that lovely smoky-caramel flavor. Turn on low to medium heat under the pot. Add

-water, if needed, to make sure things won’t stick to the bottom.

Now that you’ve got that pot simmering, you can use the buttery frying pan for the softer veggies. Add another butter-pat, melt it while you find some spices. I like:

-curry powder (about 1/2 to 1 teaspoon)
-cumin (1/2 tsp, adds to the curry flavor without the hotness)
-thyme or oregano (not much, just ‘cause I associate it with zucchini for some reason)
-maybe some black pepper (you can add it later if you prefer)

If I’d been able to find them, I would have liked to add a tiny touch of

-fennel or anise, and maybe
-chili pepper, or ground cayenne pepper, to heat things up.

Gently fry these spices in the hot butter to wake ‘em up, and chop

-a couple of green zucchinis

into bite-sized chunks. (With some of the green peel on each piece.)

When the spices are sizzling, drop the zucchini into them and roll them around to coat them in the spices and oil. Then brown them. Once they’re done, you can drop them in the pot with everything else -- but the green will fade. It’ll look more gorgeous if you set them aside now, then add them about 10 minutes before eating.

Simmer the pot, with a lid if your pot has one, for about an hour (could be more if you have stubborn beans). Stir it occasionally. (Pay attention to how it smells; stir it whenever you notice the smell again.)

Go sit down. Have a cup of cocoa, or call your sister, or write me an e-mail.

When everything is soft, taste it and see if it’s spiced right for your table. Add some more

-salt, pepper, or powdered spices to taste, or
-a bouillon cube if it needs more “something.” If you like green, throw in some fresh, chopped
-green onions or parsley.

Serve hot, with melted

-cheese (I like cheddar)

on top. Or ... as a dip for corn chips ... over rice ... on toast .... any way you like it.

Eat slowly, with comfortable chatter or quiet gratitude. Makes about as much as me and my mom will eat in four days, or a good-sized meal for six or eight people. This food goes well with hugs.

Enjoy!