Tonight I am thankful for soup. Yep, soup. On these nights when the air is turning chilly and the dark is coming earlier and earlier, soup makes me happy. Soup makes me feel warm and full and loved and safe. Soup soothes what's ailing me and warms what's cold. Hearty meat or vegetable, broth, consumme, noodle soup, bisque, chowder, stock, miso, stew, or wonderfully rich cream--it doesn't really matter; they're all wonderful. Whether I'm having soup with a grilled cheese a five star meal or simply a piece of fresh bread, I can't help but love it.
"In November's gusty gale
I will flop my flippy tail
And spout hot soup--
I'll be a whale!
Spouting once, spouting twice
Spouting chicken soup with rice."
(Do y'all love that book as much as I do?)
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