A soupçon of soup's on

I went to bed completely done in by 12 hours mostly on my feet preparing, delivering, and serving a Mexican buffet for 30 persons. It was an excellent gig for my fledgling catering biz, which has had a bit of a dry spell of late. I was so tired when I got home after an hour in the van, which included getting back to DC from a distant suburb, dropping off my assistant and scooting home, that I almost could not walk from the garage to the house. To make matters more challenging, my beloved Scooper (the King Charles Spaniel, who is older than kitty litter) got me up at 4 am. His body has no clue what the end of daylight saving time means (oh, and did I mention that he's blind and deaf?) Got him out to pee, got him his breakfast, got a glass of juice, sat on the sofa for a bit and then lay down and managed to doze off. I think that hour of dozing was entirely in REM sleep and I awoke remembering that I had been dreaming of cooking and, holy cow, even what it was I was cooking: a six course meal consisting entirely of soups. Once I was fully awake I began writing down some of what I remembered. I don't think I finished the meal inside of the dream. But, no matter. The idea resonates with me and I will gather to together my squad of tasters early in 2013 for a sampling and critiquing.

Now I know that a dinner of all soups is odd enough itself, but with an international flair? Them's fightin' words. I ended up tinkering with the specifics if not with the overall concept to represent 7 countries with the 6 soups (Republican book-keeping I think it's called). Read through them and you'll get it. Even though all these soups are to be served hot (it's winter after all), I still think it's a cool idea. (And I know my witticisms are those of an eternal sophomore.)

With the exception of the first course, the broth of each soup will be poured over the other ingredients at the table, lending a certain class-oise to the occasion.

I like to begin with an amuse bouche. The one I dreamed up is to be a shooter (in a shot glass) of miso. Obviously it is representing Japan.

The next course would logically be an appetizer. I chose escarole as a component of a salad soup. It has a nice crunch and a hint of bitterness that could be counterbalanced with some paper-thin slices of radish and mushroom. In order to tie this to France I will add court bouillon to it at serving.

A soup course (of course) could precede or follow the salad. Here comes Greece with avgolemono soup, made with rice and chicken and a lemony broth.

It's time now for the main courses: I will present a meat and some seafood. Here they come:

Oxtail soup from Germany

Italy's cioppino

He's not done yet, Myrtle. There must be a dessert lurking out there.

Indeed there is a dessert. It will hint of America and Mexico. I call it ...

Fudgesicle Tres leches soup with creamsicle balls

Those who are familiar with Mexican cuisine (also known as grub), know that the "three milks" are condensed, evaporated, and heavy cream. Some years ago I re-created the beloved creamsicle flavor of my youth (with the help of some SunnyD). Believe it or not, fudgesicles are still made.