SOUP KITCHENS

After a glorious autumn here along the southern Maine coast, winter’s icy fingers are steadily creeping over the windowsills. Our glacial garage serves as a second refrigerator. I bless my heated seats and steering wheel every time I jump into the Subaru, remotely and thankfully pre-warmed by an automatic starter app on my iPhone. The festive entrance to Hannaford looks like Christmas starts at dawn tomorrow, but Thanksgiving is a week away and the December solstice more than a month.

It’s winter, folks.

The surest sign temperatures are plummeting is the growing pile of broth-splattered recipe cards on my kitchen island. The top one is a new favorite — “Mrs. Campbell’s Tomato Soup,” given to me (along with a 32-oz. Rubbermaid container of the tasty stuff) from pal Sandi L. The first batch I made was so easy and tasty, I told my Kport knitting group about it as we sat around one afternoon clicking needles. 

Immediately, Amy F. mentioned she had a tangy recipe for tomato soup laced with fennel;  “I’ll text it to all of you.” Then, Kathy S., Mimi and Kathy G. asked me to send them “Mrs. Campbell’s” recipe. Then, Annie A. wondered if I knew about Better Than Bullion to spike a soup’s flavor. (Mind you, we are not Central Casting extras for a revival of “Little House on the Prairie.” We do not spend afternoons churning butter or reducing bison stock. We knit! But we also abut the 45th parallel and recognize that soup weather is upon us.)

The next morning I made beef, barley and portobello mushroom soup; one third went into my freezer, one third to Sandy J. who had a bad cold, one third to Anne S. who’s homebound with a broken clavicle. The rest of that week, I immersed in soup recipe books, corner-turning pages detailing Parsnip and Pears, Potage of Lentils with Confit Lemon Rinds, and Chick Pea and Pasta soups. 

Invariably, every afternoon around 5, my iPhone dinged with texts. “Do I put the parmesan in the tomato mixture when I puree or after?” “Did you use croutons or is it okay to leave them out?” “Can I substitute Swiss cheese for Parm?” “Will it freeze okay?” 

Soup is defined as “liquid food, generally served warm or hot.” It’s also one of the oldest foods in history, dating back to CLAN OF THE CAVE BEAR days. Picture Barney and Betty Rubble sitting around a fire pit lined with dinosaur skin which they’ve filled with lake water and hot rocks, then added a hefty chunk or two of a wooly mammoth thigh. I believe we owe the Rubbles thanks because their broth that simmered all day long was undoubtedly the precursor to College Inn Beef Broth.

How did the idea of “soup” spread? Today’s chefs can thank magistrates of the Roman Empire for conquering the Iberian peninsula and introducing Italian wedding soup to their Spanish subjects, then returning to Italia with a recipe for gazpacho. (Honest to Pete, I read that.) During the Byzantine Empire, Constantinopolites started “adding  lots of vegetable to their soups and didn’t limit consumption of the stuff to a particular time of day or a specific course during the meal.”

And remember those white frilly collar ruffs worn by European nobility back in the day? During dinner, it was considered proper that people lift the bowl of soup to their lips. Ooops, it also sloshed all over those frills. Something had to be done. VOILA! The soup spoon was invented and is today considered “one of the most groundbreaking inventions in the history of soup.” 

One other delicious nugget: in18th century France, street vendors sold a soup called “a restoratif” that was lauded for its healing properties. According to Parisian legend, “In 1765 a man by the name of Monsieur Boulanger was the first to open an establishment offering a choice of restorative broths and even used the term 'restaurant' on the sign over his door.” The Guiness Book of World Records cites that eatery as the first restaurant ever.

Today the soup industry is boiling with innovation, taste and necessary winter warmth. Ladle on, people! 

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PS: if you’d like the recipe for any soups mentioned, other than the Wooly Mammoth Broth, email me at valmarier@me.com