I did something this week that I'm not sure was a good idea or a terrible one: I went on a date.
Remember Alison, the nursing student I met at the bar back in week 13? She texted me. I'd honestly kind of forgotten about her, which tells you everything you need to know, but she was persistent and I figured why not. We went to a burger place on Brady Street. She was nice — funny, smart, talked a lot about nursing school and her roommate's cat. I talked about the brewery and she seemed genuinely interested, or at least she was good at pretending.
But the whole time I had this feeling like I was performing. Like I was playing the role of Guy On A Date instead of actually being present. I laughed at the right moments, asked the right questions, split the check because she insisted. It was fine. It was totally fine. And "totally fine" is not how a date should feel.
We texted a bit after. I haven't asked for a second date. I don't think I will. It's not her — she's great. It's me. I think there's still a part of me that's closed off, that's been closed off since Danny died, and until I figure out how to open it, dating is just going to be me performing normal instead of being normal.
Heavy stuff. Let me talk about food.
I made my first actual from-scratch meal this week: chili. Real chili. Ground beef, kidney beans, tomatoes, onions, garlic, chili powder, cumin. I followed a recipe from a cooking website and didn't deviate because I'm not confident enough to improvise yet. It took about an hour and my apartment smelled incredible. The chili itself was... good? I think? It was a little bland so I added more salt and chili powder. Better. Not great. But I made chili from scratch and that feels like a milestone.
Babcia made a summer salad on Sunday — fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and dill from her garden with sour cream dressing. When the ingredients are that fresh, you don't need to do much. That's a lesson I'm learning from watching her: simplicity isn't laziness. It's confidence. Knowing that good ingredients don't need to be buried under technique.
Babcia’s salad stuck with me all week—that idea that simplicity is confidence, not laziness. My chili was good, but I knew I’d buried it under spice trying to compensate for ingredients I hadn’t really tasted on their own. So when I decided to cook again a few days later, I wanted to try something that asked me to trust the ingredients instead of mask them: roasted tomato soup. Here’s how I made it.
Homemade Roasted Tomato Soup
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 lbs Roma tomatoes, halved lengthwise
- 1 medium yellow onion, quartered
- 6 cloves garlic, unpeeled
- 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 teaspoon sugar
- 2 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
- 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
- 1/4 cup heavy cream (optional, for finishing)
- Fresh basil leaves, for garnish
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 400°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with foil or parchment.
- Prep and season the vegetables. Arrange the tomato halves cut-side up on the baking sheet along with the onion quarters and unpeeled garlic cloves. Drizzle with 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, then season with the salt, black pepper, and sugar. The sugar balances the acidity—don’t skip it.
- Roast until caramelized. Roast for 35 to 40 minutes, until the tomatoes are collapsed, their edges are darkened, and the onions have some color. The caramelization is where the flavor lives. Let everything cool for 5 minutes before handling.
- Squeeze out the garlic. Pick up each garlic clove and squeeze the softened, roasted garlic out of the skins directly into a blender. Discard the skins. Add all the roasted tomatoes and onions as well.
- Blend until smooth. Add 1 cup of the broth to the blender. Blend on high until completely smooth, about 60 seconds. If you don’t have a blender, an immersion blender in a pot works fine.
- Simmer and adjust. Pour the blended soup into a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the remaining 1 cup of broth and the red pepper flakes. Stir to combine and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook for 5 minutes. Taste and adjust salt as needed—this is the step that separates good soup from bland soup, so don’t rush it.
- Finish and serve. If using heavy cream, stir it in now and heat for another minute without boiling. Ladle into bowls, drizzle with the remaining tablespoon of olive oil, and top with a few fresh basil leaves. Serve with crusty bread.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 21g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 620mg
About the cook who shared this
Jake Kowalski
Week 18 of Jake’s 30-year story
· Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Jake is a twenty-nine-year-old brewery worker, newlywed, and proud Polish-American from Milwaukee's Bay View neighborhood. He didn't start cooking until his grandmother Babcia Helen passed away and left behind a stack of grease-stained recipe cards. Now he makes pierogi from scratch, smokes meats on a balcony smoker his landlord pretends not to notice, and writes for guys who want to cook good food but don't know a roux from a rub.