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.
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.
