It's Ribbleicious

Some days, usually at a random time, I get the urge to do something domesticated. Today was one such day. On whim I decided to make a pot of chicken soup. Chicken "Ribble" soup to be specific. I'm not exactly sure what the real term for ribbles is, (I've called it that since I was young) but it is simply balls of dough in the soup instead of noodles. It was something my grandmother made frequently and became a sort of family tradition. However, several member of my family, my sister in particular, are repulsed by the ribbles for an unknown reason.

I've never really made soup before and definately never ribbles. I think it was quite a success and gave me warm reminiscent feeling on this chilly and dreary day.

My method was far from "mom and grandma traditional". My mother is somewhat of a purist in her cooking, (and a damn fine cook I might add) and gave me the recipe which included making broth and using cheese cloth to make an herb sachet. I opted out of the sachet. In fact, I'm quite sure my mother would have a small fit if she knew I used store bought chicken broth and chicken breasts instead of a whole roaster chicken. To me, whole chickens always looked like babies being cooked and it freaks me out. Not to mention picking the carcass of a chicken is, to me, one of the most vile things. I did however make the "ribbles" from scratch. Although, I took a more modern spin on the dough and added some spices and herbs to make them a bit more interesting.

One hour, 3 smoke alarm triggers and a messy kitchen later I had a great bowl of soup. I'm pretty proud of the way it turned out, but now have to figure out what to do with the two extra gallons of soup I have for one person. Soup anyone?