Knoepfle soup - Part III

Just in case you missed all the fun, here are the links to Part I and Part II.

I'm well aware of the fact that I never finished my knoepfle soup post. The final photo of the soup in a bowl was horrible. It lacked color, contrast, texture, was boring, and did not look appetizing at all.

It was entirely unacceptable.

You try! Just try to take an exciting picture of soup. It isn't easy, I'll tell you that much.

So I did what I do best. I procrastinated.

The soup, on the other hand, was quite good. I ate it for breakfast that whole week.

The last few days eternal week has been cloudy, windy, and cold. Good soup days. One of them was a good day to try again. As luck would have it I still had a rooster in the freezer, and something special in mind to make that photo work.

We left off at the point where we were ready to make the knoepfle dough.


You've braved The Nest Queen (who at the time I started writing this post was not a dedicated setter, but only the grumpy guard of all freshly laid eggs) and returned to the kitchen victorious with your two fresh eggs.

We have something like this assembled.


This is the easy part, just throw it all in the stand mixer and flip the switch.

Well, I mean we crack the eggs first. Obviously we don't want the shells.

Once upon a time I dumped a whole bunch of hot steaming potatoes into that stand mixer bowl, added some cream and butter and got ready to flip the switch on the power strip that it is plugged into. Thankfully I noticed that one of the boys had left the mixer on a high setting. (My boys sometimes sit on the counter to help me cook, also the reason the mixer is plugged into a power strip.) I looked over at my husband and laughed as I said, "Could you imagine if I hadn't seen that and actually turned it on" as I reached back and flipped the darn switch on.

RRRRRRRRrrrrrrr... Mashed potatoes everywhere. Including the ceiling.

I screamed. My husband just shook his head and walked away.

In my defense, I was pregnant with the Bean at the time, and as you ladies know that tends to affect every single part of your body. Including your brain.

I (usually) love my beautiful blood-red stand mixer to the same degree as I hate my yucky carpet. Very, very much. It's been worth every penny I spent on it.

Okay, next dump the dough which we worked so hard to make into a pile of flour and make a nice big mess. Flatten the dough somewhat and cut it into strips with your handy kitchen shears.

There, you see the lack of color? Like a sad, gloomy day? It only gets worse.


Awhile back I said some rather unkind things about my Pampered Chef cookware. I'm not sorry for that. But to be fair, I do want to say I love my Pampered Chef kitchen shears. I got it nearly twelve years ago, I use it many times every day, and it's still as good as new.

But like I said, that was twelve years ago and I have not a clue if they still make them as great now. Don't run out and buy one and then blame me if it rusts apart after a week. Not that it will. I'm just saying.

And, yes, that is Sunny all cut up in the background of that photo. He smelled amazing, and tasted even better.

Now add two quarts of milk to our broth and cooked potato concoction. Whole milk is best. It makes the soup nice and thick.


Bring it back to simmering, gently, you don't want to burn it on the bottom. It takes awhile to heat up that much milk.

The kitchen shears does a great job of snipping those long pieces of dough into bite-sized pieces, and into the soup they go, followed by a chopped up Sunny.

And the trick up my sleeve for the hopeful salvation of the soup bowl photo?

Fresh parsley. My parsley seedling, which I judged had grown just big enough to endure the loss of three of it's five leaves, came to the rescue.

Thank you little parsley seedling, please don't be angry. Be strong. Keep growing so we can continue this relationship throughout the summer.


Well, that's not going to win any food-porn awards, but it's sure an improvement.

If you're feeling inspired to entertain yourself with a day-long soup project in your own kitchen, and just in case you don't have a frozen rooster named Sunny, or Mr. Fatty, or Pretty Boy in your freezer... I was kind enough to include the recipe, which I sort of followed.

Click on it for a version large enough to read. Remember that I doubled mine because I had a whole annoying rooster.