Bird Watcher Soup

I shuffled my feet against the brown, hotel-style carpeting on the sixth floor of our apartment building, dragging along a gym bag which was hooked over my shoulder and swinging around wildly like a Jack Russel terrier. Pool soaked, un-groomed hair dripped slowly against the back of my winter jacket, causing the puffy dull black nylon to brighten into a patent leather shine. Not bothering to blow dry my hair is one of the many reasons that I continue to be mistaken for a teenager, even though I am now 30. I vowed to start dressing more presentably recently. I even bought several pairs of dress pants and high heeled boots, but most days I still pull on my jeans and snow boots, and melt into the University student crowd as though I were camouflaged. I expected to come home and find Christina sitting at her desk as usual, working in front of her various computer monitors, with a blinking headset hanging from her right ear. When sitting at her desk Christina looks like a person who is maintaining ground support for a space shuttle. On this particular day, however, she was lounging on our living room couch, the three cats snuggled around her breathing and twitching to the rhythm of their kitty dreams. She was paging through a giant coffee table book entitled "BIRDS".

"What are you doing?" I asked, as though it weren't obvious. What I really meant to say was, 'why are you doing something that I wasn't expecting you to be doing'

"I felt compelled by the idea of birds today, so I went to the bookstore and bought a book about them" she answered.
We paged through the book together, and although I was only half interested at first, I soon felt enchanted by the beautiful pictures of feathered multicolored wingspans and plumage.

Over the following weeks, we began researching breeds, looking at interesting cages, and fantasizing about having a bird as a pet. We decided on a Senegal parrot, a bird similar to the kind my grandparents had when I was growing up. I really wanted to be able to get the bird for Christina for her birthday, which is coming up, so I suggested we swing by a pet store today on our way back from her art installation.

I called around, but found that most pet stores stopped stocking parrots due to what the store managers described as a "down economy for parrots". I was so resigned to the idea of the great parrot recession, that when calling a business listed as 'Avalon Parrots' I found myself asking the store manager if they actually carried parrots.

"um..yes.." she said "that IS what we carry" and I experienced a wave of awkward embarrassment.

"we are a parrot rescue organization, you can adopt a parrot from us, but we ask that you come and visit them and get to know them before we allow you to take them home." She said that they currently had 2 Senegal's, so we told her that we would be right over.

When we walked into the store, we were greeted by a beautiful red and blue parrot, who was bizarrely half plucked. The plucking looked almost intentional, stylish even, as though he were emulating a poodle. He had a pink pimply neck, but his head was poofy with brilliant ruby red feathers, and he wore a coat of blue wings. He looked, to me, like a unique sort of a bird, a lovable rebel, and I assumed his ensemble to be intentional..that is, until the store manager described him as a "self plucker". I wondered if birds suffered with self esteem issues which lead to self deprecation. I pictured the bird fighting with his owners, and then locking himself in his cage and plucking, the way a human teenage self mutilator would.

"You never listen to me" the bird would say, and then he would take out his emotional pain on himself, picking out each feather in a misdirected act of revenge. Perhaps, he was tired of being admired for his looks, and to prove that there was something more behind those beautiful feathers, he decided to shave a la Sinead O'Connor. Or maybe he felt like a freak on the inside, and in a desperate act to make his insides and his outsides match, he decided to pull out his feathers. The latter being an act akin to a teenager dying ones hair purple with a jar of manic panic.

"Maybe we should get.." I began whispering to Christina, my eyes locked on the exotic rebel. Just then the half plucked bird squawked so loudly that I knew we would never be able to stand him in our apartment.

"The Senegal's are over here" The woman said, leading us through a labyrinth of birds to a little black iron cage with two Senegal's in it.

"Sammy is a floor walker" she said, and one of the little birds, as though he were being cued, hopped down from his cage and waddled confidently toward us.

"Cooper is shy, she sticks mostly to her cage". I leaned in a bit, to get a closer look at her. She had a helmet of green feathers, with a few yellow ones marked in like strokes on an impressionist painting. She shuffled along the side of her cage and bowed her head in front of me. I stood awkwardly.

"I think she wants you to scratch her neck" the manager said. "oh, um right" I said, and I reached in to scratch her. We stayed in the store for hours, getting to know the birds. Sammy ignored us, for the most part. He rocked his rope swing in a circular motion like a rambunctious child improperly using a swing set, as though to say "pick me and I will run you into exhaustion". An Amazon named Monty climbed onto my shoulder and repeated telephone conversations into my ear. He laughed at all of my jokes, which really made me feel like we had a connection. Cooper looked longingly at us while Monty was perched on my shoulder, as though to say

"if only I were more brave, it would be me on your shoulder. Take me home, and give me a chance. I belong with you." When we got in the car to leave, Christina said she felt this connection to Cooper too, as though he were our estranged pet separated from us in another life. When we got home, I began to assemble a soup, slowly, patiently, carefully. I worked as though I were still carefully approaching that shy little bird.

The stock (Vegetarian)

In a soup pot, add 2 sliced yellow onions, 2 cloves smashed garlic, 2 cups water and some salt. Add 4 cups chopped mushrooms, 1/2 bunch diced celery, salt, and 4 cups cold water. Heat until simmering and add 4 peeled sliced carrots, 2 peeled sliced parsnips, some dried mushrooms (shitake if you like it sweet), 1 bay leaf, some pink peppercorns and water to cover. Bring to a boil and simmer for 1 hour, uncovered. Sprinkle in some salt and thyme and basil along the way, as though leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for the birds.

The beans

soak and cook separately 1 cup Great Northern Beans, 1 Cup black beans, 1 cup kidney beans. When they are done cooking, heat some olive oil and saute onion and garlic, then add the bean mix. Season with salt, mirin, thyme, soy sauce.

The Soup

In a soup pot, heat some olive oil or ghee. Add a little salt. Add 3 peeled diced Scarlett turnips, 3 peeled, diced, rutabaga, 2 peeled, diced parsnips, 1 peeled diced onion and 1/2 bunch diced celery. Cook, stirring.When the vegetables are almost soft add the beans. Then drain in the stock. Mix a little dark miso with some of the hot stock until it forms a paste and add to the soup. If the flavor is too light and the stock is too liquids, cook it down uncovered for 20 min. Optional~drop in 1 Ume plum (a very salty Japanese pickled plum).