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I spent most of yesterday suspended in some sort of strange stomach virus limbo. I didn’t feel sick enough overall to conclude without reservation that I, indeed, had some digestive malady, and, yet, every time I’d get within sight of most foods or within nose whiff of most smells, I would feel my poor stomach turn ever so surely toward aversion.

Normally, I would just put my feet up and resign myself to a day of rest, but it was the day of my husband’s birthday party. So I decided to tough it out, thinking that unless I actually vomited, the show must go on.

It was in this state that I met my first rutabaga. It had been part of my CSA box, and I had shoved it to the back of the crisper, vowing to find SOMETHING to do with it at SOME point. A week had ticked by, and I had done nothing, so it was time to figure it out before the root went bad. I decided to take the path of least resistance and make the recipe for soup included in my CSA newsletter. Read the rest of this entry »

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