The New Domesticity: The Promise of Soup
It was a dark, grey morning. The weight of the world seemed to rest on my pre-teen shoulders, and the last thing I wanted to do was catch a school bus. I peered out the window and sighed, “Do I have to go?” My mom was a wise woman. She knew that, yes, I had to go. But she also knew how to make that yes more bearable. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll have a nice, hot pot of soup simmering on the stove when you get home. How does that sound?”
“Soup?” My heart flickered with interest. “I guess that sounds nice.” She cupped my face in her hands, kissed my forehead and promised, “Soup.” That soup got me through the day. I can’t remember what was so horrid about that particular day, but I do remember the promise of soup and the comforting effect it had on my tender heart. It was probably the first time I realized how powerfully important a simple meal can be.
With longer November evenings stretching before us, we have many opportunities to make the most of mealtimes. Lest we fall into a busy autumn rut that makes mealtimes disjointed, harried, or even non-existent, let’s use the word “SOUP” to consider how we might make even the simplest meals memorable and comforting. Along the way, we’ll hear from a few classic authors who wrote mouth-watering descriptions based on their own experiences of long ago.