A Soup Goddess

I love making soups.

Soups are an excellent venue for various ingredients: meats, spices, liquids, herbs and vegetables. I've never made the same soup twice. In other words, each pot of soup is a fresh creation. Every time it's a different combination for that never-before-tasted bowl of soup. Experimenting with seasonings and fresh ingredients takes time; time makes the best soup!

When I serve soup at the dinner table, I'm usually the first one to comment on how good it tastes. My children like soup and almost always ask for a second helping, but I'm my biggest fan. The more time and experimentation involved in a particular pot of soup, the more I enjoy the product. We had guests one day and the wife commented, "You really love making soups, don't you?" When I asked "Why?" she responded that she could tell how my much my family was enjoying the meal.

One of our family's favorite soups is what I call "Magic Soup." Much like Stone Soup, I feel as if I produce a great soup from water alone. OK, I add turkey bones and fat, a few onions and carrots and simmer it almost forever. The result is a rich turkey broth begging homemade noodles.

As much as I love soup, I rarely order it when we eat out. Most restaurant soups are from mixes or come completely pre-made. (If I wanted to open a can and add water, I'd do that at home.) I did however, have an excellent bowl of Tomato/Basil/Feta Soup at St. Peter's Food Coop.

My track record as a soup maker is pretty good. I've learned a thing or two over the years. If you add pasta to your soup don't let it sit for too long. Pasta continues to absorb liquid, especially just cooked pasta in hot soup. Rutabaga adds a sweet-like flavor that doesn't mesh with well in soups. (Believe me, I've tried.)



As far as I can remember, I've only had one disaster with a soup. I bought a mix at a gift shop at the North Shore for a beer cheese soup. I added the right amounts of milk and beer and IT WAS TERRIBLE! Most unfortunately, it was an evening when my son had invited 2 friends from school for dinner. My family and guests sat politely stiffing their hot soup and taking only the smallest sips of the stuff. I finally took my first spoonful, I almost spit it out. Our guests, though very polite, looked relieved when I whisked the bowls off the table and brought out the bread and peanut butter.

Even the popcorn meant to jauntily float on top of the soup couldn't redeem it.