I almost never order takeout — not because I’m all high and mighty but because I’m alternately lazy, cheap, depressed, indecisive, or all of the above. Occasionally the urge for brick-oven-charred pizza strikes (maybe even from the Indian pizza place), but more often than not, my takeout ventures are driven entirely by a burning desire (no pun intended) for hot and sour soup.

I get cravings sometimes, but I can usually calm them down. When I need hot and sour soup (usually when I’m sick), I really need it. Bad. And then I have to go through the whole mental battle of trying to decide whether I want to eat that much MSG; whether I want to spend a bunch of dollars when I could just make dinner; whether I have the energy to walk three blocks to pick it up…but dammit, I need my soup.

Well, I was skeptical about this one, but Cook’s Illustrated (not usually my favorite) came through with a recipe for hot and sour soup involving completely normal pantry ingredients that’s actually really good.

I had a pork chop and stock and most of the other ingredients, and just ran around the corner for some tofu, sliced bamboo shoots, and fresh shiitakes (ok, fine, so they’re not all common pantry ingredients). I found that my black Chinese vinegar had gone south, so I went with the red wine and balsamic vinegar alternative, boosted with a little more cider vinegar — the sour wasn’t quite sour enough.

Lots of white pepper and chili oil, and a half hour later, I am not joking: best hot and sour soup I’ve had in ages. I thought I hated bamboo shoots, but they added just the right tang. The little bit of pork gave it just enough heft for a light dinner. And the crunch of the scallions scattered over the top just reinforced that it was fresh.

Beautifully, I’m not even sick.

nope, I wasn’t kidding

I’m pretty good with a knife. Never lost a finger, and in fact have been lucky to experience very few tragic kitchen accidents (if you ignore the massive scarring I incurred while working the pastry ovens at Aqua…and the asbestos fingers). Brilliantly, I’ve sustained most of my injuries while cleaning my knives.

Hence tonight’s bandage event, a completely unnoticed slice to the knuckle, received, I assume, while washing my chef’s knife after mincing some parsley for a massive batch of meatballs.

(Which are delicious and the perfect antidote to a long, gray day, by the way. Freeze batches of the meatballs in their sauce for a welcome treat next week and beyond. Tonight I’m making meatball sandwiches.)

In any case, I acknowledge that this is kind of gross (and no, there’s no blood in the food), but you have to admit that the bloodstain I left on my other sleeve as a result of the bleeding knuckle is pretty funny. Or ironic.