Ree's Creamy Carrot Soup Is Ready in Under an Hour (2024)

There’s not a parent or grandparent alive who hasn’t at least once felt that feeling in his gut—that “ugh”, that dread, when a kid asks the question, “CAN I COOK SOMETHING?” It’s okay…you can admit it. We’re all friends here; you’re with homies here; you’re in a safe zone. It’s not that cooking with kids isn’t an important part of life. It is. The kitchen, more than any other place, is where memories are built…and where moments are cemented in time. Mother letting Sally bake bread, Grandma allowing little Billy to make oatmeal cookies, Grandpa showing little Abigail how to scale a trout…these are the things children remember the most.

But once you actually have kids and give them the keys to your kitchen, all of those idyllic images are shattered when you realize that kids, in their default state, are cyclones, and will leave in their wake a swath of flour, sugar granules, smudges, and destruction. Few kids—at least the kids I’ve had the pleasure of knowing—are born with a clean-as-you-go approach, least of all in the kitchen. So unless you hover over them and supervise, even kids with the best intentions will leave your kitchen ten times worse than how you left it. And the sooner we establish that as a pretty common reality, the better off we’ll all be.

We have to let our kids into the kitchen, though—we just have to. We have to let them explore, experiment, discover. Unless they coat their hands in flour, unless they get batter all over their shirts, they’ll be less likely to develop a love for and oneness with ingredients…and confidence in the kitchen will only get harder and harder to come by. So I’ll be posting more recipes like this one today, dishes that kids can have fun preparing, along with tips for making the whole process go a little more smoothly.

And I’ll be sure the finished dish is something that humans will actually want to eat. I promise.

One thing I like to do when I let my kids cook is lay out all the ingredients beforehand, often measuring out the liquids and spices for them. Later, as they get more comfortable with adding and stirring and mixing, I have them go ahead and do the measuring themselves. Lots of opportunity for on-site math lessons. But when they first start out, do the measuring for them. Take it one step at a time.

First, I have the kid (or kids) peel the carrots. That’s a relatively easy job. Nobody’s scraped the skin off their finger yet.

I lay down a paper towel when the punks peel carrots.

That way…

They can just fold up the four corners and throw it in the trash…or the compost heap, whichever floats your boat.

“I shall now prepare a healthy and nutritious carrot soup. Who cares if I haven’t brushed my hair in four days?”

Grooming in the country is sometimes an afterthought.

First, she cuts the carrots into pieces. I’m having her use a knife that’s sharp enough to cut through the carrots, but not so sharp it would require reattachment of a finger if she slipped.

It helps for her to make this face. The carrots cut better that way.

Next, she presses the garlic. Normally, I’d just mince the garlic, but using a garlic press is easier for kids.

Plus, it’s kind of reminiscent of a Play-Dough Fun Factory.

Next, my girl adds the carrots to a pot.

And she adds the premeasured chicken broth…

And the garlic.

Next, she zests a lemon using one of those miraculous microplane zesters. NOTE: It’s best to teach the kids to hold the fruit in one hand and run the zester over them lemon with the other hand, rather than move the lemon over the zester. I can’t explain why; it just works better that way.

Then tap-tap-tap—the lemon zest goes into the pot.

Next, she turns the burner on low, puts the lid on, and simmers the carrots for twenty minutes.

Then I make her go brush her hair.

After twenty minutes, the carrots are tender. I have a hot pad right next to the stove so my girl won’t burn her hand when she lifts up the lid.

Now, I happen to have this immersion blender, which is fun and easy for the kids to use…as long as they keep it IMMERSED. Because, you see, if an immersion blender is lifted out of the substance it’s blending, it becomes a SPLATTER-PAINT blender.

Trust me. I know.

If you don’t have an immersion blender, just throw the carrots (and broth) into a regular blender. Then let your punks pour them back to the pan. They’re really runny and bright orange and will make ’em go, “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW.”

I love things that make ’em go “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW.”

Next, my girl adds the juice of half a lemon and the premeasured half & half to the pan. (NOTE: You can substitute plain, unflavored yogurt and/or 2% milk if you’re healthy and sensible.)

Then she gives the soup a stir…

And watches the magic unfold. Yum.

Here’s where she throws in the ground nutmeg…

And salt and pepper to taste. I teach my kids to add a little, then taste, then add a little, then taste. Cooking’s more fun that way. Next, just turn on the stove and warm up the soup for just a couple of minutes. No need to boil.

And it’s time to eat! My girl actually spooned this into the bowl without dropping any on her toes or her brother’s head.

If you have fresh herbs (we have basil growing out of our nostrils), slice some up…

And let ’em sprinkle it over the top. Delicious!

Now it’s time for the chef to taste the fruits of her labor.

She’s a little unsure…it’s always nerve-wracking tasting something you’ve worked so hard on.

Drumroll please…

“Mmmmmmmmm! It’s delicious!”

See how easy cooking with kids can be? With just a tiny bit of preparation, they’re capable of much more than we think.

“Okay, fun’s over—now clean up this kitchen!” I tell her.

“Whaaa?”

I just love it when my kids clean the kitchen. It teaches them discipline, responsibility, and allows me to plop down on the sofa and stare at the ceiling for thirty minutes. I’m so glad I have children.

Love,
Pioneer Girl