So this morning Jim left me a little note, reminding me to eat the Homemade Chicken Noodle Soup before it goes bad. I hardly need reminding to eat, but it would be tragic to see such deliciousness go to waste. I opened the fridge to take account of my stock ( I feel like I’m living in Pusateri’s, but without the security guards) and looked over my bounty. I realized that the personality of each Soup Angel shone through from each offering. Maybe that’s why soup is so popular, cus each serving has an intimacy not offered by a sandwich, or a Mars Bar.
Butternut squash soup from Jim’s sister. It’s cookbook perfect, and could be in a glossy LCBO magazine, yet tastes a million times better than something so sophisticated. It’s a deep, rich velvety soup that is totally polished and ready for a soup centerfold. It looks like an elegant well-presented dish, but once you dive in, you sink into many surprising layers of fun and fantasticness, and will eventually want to kick off your shoes. Likelihood of booze in the soup is fairly high (and if not in the soup, it’s in Jim’s sister).
|A Seafood Novel|
Another Soup Angel is one I've never met who is a friend of Jim’s sister. She’s loaded us up several times, and as I don’t know her I can only say this. She is an excellent cook, extraordinarily kind, and has lovely taste in mason jars. Booze quotient? I’d like to think she was drinking champagne.
Lastly, I made my own barely & mushroom soup. It was dull. But healthy. Booze quotient - zero. Overall, boring, but with the promise of getting better.