Soup

The clanging of metal in search of the perfect sized soup pot, rummaging through the refrigerator for ingredients that would suit my mood and reaching for the handcrafted wooden spoon my father made for me - signals to all within hearing distance of the kitchen that I am about to make soup. I've been making soup for many years now and all of the above seems to be choreographed into one fluid motion of twirling, reaching, and bending. In minutes I have coarsely chopped onions and celery (including leaves) tossed into a pot with a large dab of butter simmering to caramelized perfection. The aroma of these three ingredients mingling at the bottom of the soup pot is therapeutic. I can feel the release of serotonin in my brain as it carries warm, cozy sensations through the highways of my body leading deep into my soul.

The sky is the limit after that happens. Cream of anything always turns out amazing especially when thickened with basmati rice. Flour seems to hold back flavours and masks the true spirit of a soup. Creaminess is also achieved with milk and the use of my Kitchen Aid blender. Why Kitchen Aid? For a while it seemed breaking blender containers, lids and various small parts was a monthly occurrence at the tearoom. This went on until I finally reached the conclusion that you get what you pay for. I decided not to pay for equipment that wasn't sturdy anymore. We still have an extensive collection of blender motors (all in good shape and powerful enough to drive a small scooter), but they are all useless when the container and/or lid breaks. So get yourself a good blender - one that makes a low whirring noise as the motor gently starts up rather than one that jumps to full speed and sends your soup flying all over the kitchen if you forget to put your hand on the lid.

I have a confession to make. I use a powdered soup base. I have made stock by scratch by boiling bones, skimming off pot scum, and adding salt and pepper. After all that I stood wondering why I went to so much trouble to end up with something that tasted so flat and lifeless. I finally heaved a sigh of defeat and surrendered. Powdered soup base mix it is. You can use as much or as little as you like. It's already salty so you never need to add more salt. We, at the Ivy Tea Room, lovingly refer to it as Magic Powder because it makes an excellent tasting soup.

Fresh herbs are better than dried ones any day. Dried herbs are easier to store and if you rub them in your hands just before adding them to your soup the aroma will be released allowing the serotonin therapy to begin. My favourite herbs and spices include marjoram and fresh ground pepper. Nutmeg is excellent in cream soups. Rosemary and thyme are also wonderful and come in many varieties. I have some enchanting, variegated lemon thyme that goes in just about everything all summer long. I love to put mustard seeds in my French onion soup for texture and a wee zap of flavour. Follow your nose and your taste buds– they will lead you to the best places. Waft the fragrance of the simmering soup toward you with a cupped hand. Savour with your eyes closed and listen to your inner self. If you feel you need a little something more, go for it. Experiment and live a little while creating your soup. If you manage to nail it according to your mood and needs then celebrate by getting out the bowls and some bread and call everyone in to enjoy the wholesome serenity called soup.