While we wait for Wall Street types to do the right thing and start jumping out of windows, we’re making soup as a hedge against the harsh economic climate. This particular pot has its roots in an old Better Homes and Gardens cookbook, but has flowered in a variety of odd directions depending upon my mood and what I have on hand.

Score yourself three pounds of crosscut beef shank and put it in a big pot with about 18 ounces of tomato juice, six cups of fluid (water, beef stock, vegetable stock or a combo), a handful of chopped onion, three or four crushed cloves of garlic, a couple teaspoons salt, a half-dozen peppercorns, a shake or two of Worcestershire sauce, a bay leaf, a dash of cumin, a pinch of Mexican oregano and whatever chile powder you may favor and can bear (this batch has a rounded teaspoon each of mild and medium Chimayo red, plus another of chipotle). Cover and simmer for two hours.

Remove the beef, chop into cubes, discard the bones, feed the marrow to your wife. Well, mine likes it. Strain the broth and skim the excess fat, unless it’s cold outside, which it is, so fuck it. Return the meat to the strained broth, add a cup or so of diced spud, another of corn, a can of red, black or white beans (drained), another of crushed roasted tomatoes, and anything else that strikes your fancy. I usually plunk a bit of roasted, peeled and chopped green chile in there, just ’cause.

Slap the lid back on and simmer for another hour. Check the seasonings and serve with a side salad and maybe some organic corn chips to crush and add for roughage. A little grated Parmigiano-Reggiano or Black Diamond cheddar makes a nice garnish. What the hell, chop a little flat-leaf Italian parsley and sprinkle that on, too. Double up on the recipe and take half to your neighborhood hobo jungle.

This is good with a French red, a Spanish rosé or a U-nited States of America beer, in this case an Obsidian Stout from Deschutes Brewery. Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow. …

I meant to shoot a couple pix of dinner, but spaced it (lots of balls in the air, trying to get everything to finish cooking simultaneously), so you’ll have to settle for a shot of the aftermath.

We started off with a sparking rosé, corn tortilla chips and the pico de gallo salsa I made last night, segued into chicken and jalapeño quesadillas, and then dove into the main meal, a blend of red and green chile in honor of the holiday — chicken enchiladas smothered in green chile, Anasazi beans with chipotle chile, red chile roasted potatoes and posole. Dessert was an excellent raspberry cobbler prepared by Herself, as I’m not much of a baker.

I wound up having to make two batches of green chile, because the first one tasted not quite right. Not inedible, I thought, but not top shelf, either, and I’m not quite certain why. I ordinarily use a 50-50 mix of hot and mild Hatch chiles, and I suspect the hot ones may have gone slightly off thanks to an overlong stay in the fridge after defrosting. So, thinking that a case of the Chihuahua cha-cha would make a poor holiday gift indeed for my sis and brother-in-law (to say nothing of Herself and me), I whipped up a second batch using only the fresher mild chile and that proved serviceable, after I needled it a tad with some ground green and a dash of ancho powder. I had a few poblanos squirreled away, but there was no time to roast and peel the buggers. As it was, I was still cooking when the kinfolk arrived.

Nobody had to talk to Ralph on the big white phone afterward, so I consider dinner a smashing success. If you’d like to take a whack at these recipes, they’re all in the Santa Fe School of Cooking Cookbook, except for the variation of posole that I make, a one-pot jobber with diced pork that’s so old I can’t remember its origins.

What was on the menu at your place? Leave me some recipes in comments — but don’t expect me to cook ’em anytime soon. We’re gonna have leftovers for days.

Late update: Almost forgot another holiday tradition: Dancing with Herself to “Fairytale of New York” by The Pogues.