It was just a craving. Thatís my only excuse for making slow cooker soup on (a) one of the hottest days of the summer, and (2) a Saturday, when I donít get up in time to get an early start on anything, much less something that takes seven hours. So thereís why I was eating bean and sausage soup (stoup, actually, because itís more stew than soup in some ways) at 9:30 pm.
The craving didnít actually happen today. It happened Wednesday, the day I did my grocery shopping for the week. Or maybe it was Tuesday night when I wrote out my shopping list. Suppose I hadnít thought of it earlier in the week. Suppose I woke up this morning with a craving. Would I have made a special trip to the supermarket for the ingredients? I would not. I would have had leftover pasta arrabbiata for the third night in a row.
Ha! My spell check wants me to change ďarrabbiataĒ to Arabic. Or rarebit. But I copied the spelling off the recipe, which came from Rachaelís magazine (as do most of the new things I try, unlike the old favorite I made today, which came from kind reader bg). Anyway, I trust Rachaelís spelling prowess when it comes to food related items.