It's soup season

The virtues of soup are endless

I’m not the carnivore type who has to sink my teeth into meat to be satisfied. In fact, except for a good Perry barbecue now and then and an occasional pot roast, I could live on soup almost all year. (No kidding. I’ve even ordered soup in Reno, Nevada during the summer.) 

Fortunately for me, it’s soup season, and I don’t have to make any apologies for either preparing or requesting soup often. Better yet, at this time of year, others are thinking like me. The other night, for example, I was busy upstairs when Ken called me down to dinner. He’d fixed grilled cheese sandwiches and soup (tomato basil bisque, to be exact). That the soup came from a can didn’t matter in the least; it was positively delicious and exactly what I wanted on a cold, dark night.

Besides being tasty, some soups can have both an aroma and preparation time that help create conversations. Yesterday I started out the day fixing ham bone soup, and my boys, each taking note of the wonderful smell filling the house, asked what I was fixing. As they took an interest in the meal, I had time to take an interest in them. Because the soup required a little chopping time, I ended up in the kitchen where my children tend to hang out and where some of our best discussions occur. If I’m lucky, I can engage them in the work of slicing and dicing, and, if I’m really lucky, we engage in honest conversations. 

In her essay, “In Praise of Simmering,” Linda Burton describes the kitchen as a safe place to talk. Besides being a warm place that smells good, it provides a place to share intimate feelings and heartaches without making us feel we’re actually doing just that. She says, “If what we’re doing is dicing the onions or peeling the potatoes—if we are somewhat diverted from the strength of our feelings for a moment—it seems somehow easier to express them.”

Just sharing a meal with others can also help bring down barriers. My dad used to say that you really can’t get to know a person until he sits down at your table and shares a meal with you. Almost every Sunday at church, he and Mom would find the strays who didn’t have a place to eat and invite them to dinner. If they would try to decline the offer, my dad would say, half-jokingly, “It’s no problem. We’ll just add a little more water to the soup.” Soup really is very “shareable,” somehow stretching to fill however many bowls need filling.

Soup varieties can fit a crowd or even a mood. Taco soup works on hot or cold days. Vegetable beef is standard stuff. Chicken noodle soup warms and soothes but doesn’t overfill. Corn chowder is a crowd-pleaser. Homemade cream of chicken served with homemade rolls can fill up even the hungriest of men. Butternut squash soup satisfies the more sophisticated palette and is best served with cream drizzled artistically on top. Tomato soup is a throwback to childhood days, especially if you float a few oyster crackers on top. French onion is a favorite but, unlike most soups, almost always better served at a restaurant. 

Although meat lovers would disagree, I think almost any kind of good soup can be a complete meal, laden with lots of good vitamins and minerals. What’s more, soup is always ready. If family members have to eat at different times, they can still each get a hot meal. Similarly, soup is handy when some company drops in unexpectantly. 

So, if you’re in the area, come on over! We’ll share some soup and good conversation. And if the pot runs low or we have a bigger crowd than expected, no worries. We’ll just add a little more water to the soup.