Some of my friends have asked for a medical update. Although I generally shy away from this type of blogging (I'd rather be writing about other things), I will give you the short answer: I just got back from MD Anderson. I am still cancer-free, as would be expected.

They tried to insert a TEP prosthesis and for various reasons, it had to be removed. I am going back in late July to try again. Try googling TEP and listen to the people using them, it is rather amazing. Not entirely new, but only about ten years old now and really good.

One of my doctors recommended that I not do the TEP but I think he was wrong and I am proceeding, based on the advice of the rest of my team there. 

As for food, I am still on a liquid diet- i.e. soup, diet supplement drinks, and red wine. I am slightly dejected because it will be November or December before I can eat food again. Having built such a large part of my existence on cooking and eating and writing about food, you may imagine how miserable this makes me. However, soup is a good thing and I am trying to accept what has been handed to me and perhaps I will write a soup book or something. I started out in that direction when it hadn't really sunk in that it would last so long, so I am in the process of attitude adjustment now. 

As I tell people, soup is just fine as long as it is not your only option three times a day, when it begins to pale. Going to a grocery store brings its own little agony every time I spot something and think "oh I'll do that tonight!" and then remember I can't eat it even if I do cook it. Some normal dishes actually do go into the food processsor and become soup, even if it is mildly ridiculous, but any foxhole in a fight, right? 

Last night we had a tomato soup that we learned from Chef Paul Baumgartner in Buchs, Switzerland. Soon as I write it all down clearly, I'll post it here. 

Ripe Fruit

Peaches on the tree in the back yard. I'm still all stove up from surgery but I am determined to pick as many of them as I can reach, standing precariously on a chair, fighting the yellowjackets for them.  This tree rises from the middle of a giant rosemary bush, so as I plunge clumsy below trying to get to the ripe ones, the scent of rosemary swirls around me. A mockingbird sings the dove's song goofily. Ripe peaches have a scent too, and these have none of the melony aspect that the supermarket varieties have, thank a loving God. I find myself doing something very human, cartoon-like, old as ancestors - I grab a branch and bring it down to me so I can reach the big ripe ones that hang against the sky above me. Some of them are already too ripe, too fed-upon by birds and hungry creatures, and they fall to the ground under the rosemary and I find myself thinking "the gods' share, of course" like a Greek pouring out the first tip of the wine to the gods, or a priest placing a bone wrapped in fat upon the altar so that the aroma might rise to meet Them/Him/Her/It and they be pleased. You cannot get every peach - the gods will have theirs, too! I expect a farmer learns this pretty fast. Peach ice cream soup tonight!

What better way to be reminded to love life, and love the earth, and love a ripe Texas peach? With sight, smells, sounds, tastes? To love my wife with a love like an ache, who "like a fruitful vine"  planted this tree long ago with a vision in her heart that is now real, here, now? 

I'm very, very grateful.

Since I’m confined to a liquid diet for the immediate future, I figure when life hands you the proverbial citrus fruits you turn them into margaritas. Soups it is, then. 

Since it is now springtime in Austin, the sweet corn is starting to come in and the Gulf Shrimp is on sale, both glorious flavors that go together so well. To me, the important thing with this idea is to maintain the lightness and freshness of it while grabbing as much flavor as you can, too.  

Joe in the Minervois

I realize this may bear no resemblance to a classic bisque, but I care not. Although I do think it is important to learn to do things the "right" way, whether it be music or painting or cooking, before you start to experiment, I have made classic bisques, so those dues are paid. Serves 4 

Joe's Shrimp and Corn Bisque

1 lb shrimp, medium or small, peeled, with shells reserved. Heads-on adds flavor, if you can find them that way

4 ears fresh sweet corn, kernels cut from the cob and cobs scraped. Reserve kernels and juice. Reserve scraped cobs

4 cups seafood broth (see below)

1 cup heavy cream

4 T.  finely chopped shallot

*secret ingredient below

Broth

1 carrot, roughly chopped

1 celery stalk, roughly chopped

1 yellow onion, roughly chopped

Parsley

Bay leaf

Thyme- a teaspoon or so dried, a sprig fresh. Go easy. Or omit.

Reserved corn cobs

To make the broth, peel the shrimp and place peels into a pot with 5 cups of cold water. Add celery, carrot, onion, parsley, thyme, bay, corn cobs. Simmer for half an hour or so until the broth takes on some flavor. Taste it! No arbitrary time limit is a substitute for tasting. Strain and reduce to about four cups.

For the Bisque

Put the chopped shallot in a pot with a knob of butter and a splash of good olive oil. Sauté until shallots are softened, just a few minutes on medium heat. Do not brown. Add broth and corn kernels and juice scraped from cobs and simmer for 20 minutes. Add shrimp and simmer for 3 minutes. Add cream and bring to a simmer. Serve. You could sprinkle some finely chopped parsley over the top or a little pinch of smoked Spanish pimiento, or both, for color. 

*Secret Ingredient: If you wanted to get really racy you could sauté a few minced pieces of good fat pork in with the shallots, too, just for added funk. In the South, we would.