Souper Sunday
by gillis
I’m not sure when I became a person who gets excited about soup, but I get excited about soup. I think my love for soup grew slowly, then all at once. Maybe it’s like the culinary equivalent of a plantar’s wart, you have no idea it’s there until suddenly it’s impacting your life and the way you live it.
I distinctly remember being younger and not caring about soup, maybe even thinking that people who were my age and were “soup people,” were a bit sad. Eagerly looking forward to broth or bisque? Sure, maybe when I’m an octogenarian or my teeth are compromised. I wish I could point to a moment, or a dish, when things changed between me and soup, but I really can’t, which is too bad because if I could remember when soup first turned my head, I might be able to recreate the moment, or at least the soup. All I know is that the soup list is the first thing I check out on a menu. It’s a certain type of disappointment to be at a restaurant that doesn’t have daily soup specials. If they don’t have things they need to use up creatively in a daily soup special, their food is probably coming out of freezer bags or cans rather than being made from scratch daily. I wish I didn’t think about things like that when I eat out, but I do.
I’m not much of a cook, so making soup is a good “in” for me because it isn’t precise like baking, and it doesn’t usually require a cook’s full and undivided attention. I’m easily distracted and disorganized. Soup, unlike coworkers and family members, can be very forgiving when I forget things or become overwhelmed. Put a few things in a pan with oil or butter to sweat, add some broth, and pop in whatever else might add flavor or texture, and let it simmer. It’s the oldest alchemy in the world.
Today I made potato leek soup. First I cleaned and chopped leeks, but I actually screwed that part up. Right off the bat, I forgot to cut the leeks in half to rinse them, and instead went right to chopping them into slices that made tight, beautifully graphic concentric circles of white and light green. It was a sweet pile of springtime. And it was dirty. I had to retrace my steps and separate all of the darling little circles so I could get them into a bowl of water for rinsing. And then another fresh bowl. Followed by a third. No matter, they eventually softened and became aromatic in the pan. When their spell had been cast, I added the potatoes, herbs, and stock. The pot simmered and the magic deepened while I went about my distracted little way, reading, folding laundry, checking email. When everything in the pot had shared all it could for the cause, I moved the soup, ladle by ladle, into the blender. After checking to see that the lid was secure, I blended the whole thing up in a whirl. When it returned to the stockpot, the soup had a shimmery, creamy glow to it. It was both simple and miraculous.
gillis and her big mouth 
The description makes me hungry. Potato soup was one of my mother’s specialties. She made it simply with butter, potatoes, celery, milk, salt and pepper- no real measuring, when we were growing up. Later, she made a fancier version with a few other vegetables, bacon, and cheese added- from a recipe. When I want some comfort food, I go with the original. Add a few saltines, and it’s heavenly.
Your decision to write about soup made for some lovely descriptive writing! And it is nice to have food writing juxtaposed with your personality and the other tasks you are doing simultaneously. Finally, this is an inspiration- I haven’t made my pot for a few weeks. What will it be?
Your slightly off-the-cuff writing had me laughing (culinary equivalent of a plantar’s wart!) lol I do love a good soup, though. Potato leek sounds wonderful! (minus the dirt; again lol). Great Slice!
Your description of your soup sounds delicious. Now I want to try leek soup. I was never found of soup as a kid either, but lately, there is nothing better than a pot of homemade soup simmering on the stove on a cold fall or winter day.
I really loved this, especially the line “soup is the oldest alchemy in the world”. You’re absolutely right about that. I think a pot of some kind of this delicious alchemy is going to make its way to my menu this week!
I’ve come to love soup, especially on a snow day. I’ve never been brave enough to make potato leek soup simply because of the leeks. I know how to cut them and eradicate the sand, but the sand is something that’s always on my mind whenever I work with leeks.
You’re a wonderful writer! I love your descriptions and your wit! I have never been much of a soup person myself, but every now and then, an amazing soup enters my life and I’m stunned. I would really like to try to make potato leek soup, and i hope to try to make it one of these days. Thanks for the writing and soup inspiration!