Food For Thought

Jacob Hickey

Professor Jesse Miller

English 110-H4

4 October 2017

Love is Simply Turkey Soup

Love. It is a word people use to describe a vast number of things: family, activities, and food, to name a few. Moreover, this word describes how I feel about my own family, mainly my mom and dad. Leaving them and abandoning everything I knew for college was one of the most challenging days of my life. All that lay before me that day was an unfamiliar path, stretching out ahead, waiting for me to stumble toward. My teachers, peers, and surroundings were all going to be new. I felt hopeless, afraid, and panicked.

While it may seem strange, these very feelings actually led to the discovery of my new favorite meal: turkey soup, because it represents not only a creamy and chunky flavorful dish, but the love my parents and I have toward each other. It is neither a complex dish, a long-standing family tradition, nor a delicious memory from a favorite restaurant. It is in fact, a recipe found quite recently on the internet. To many’s eye, it might seem as though a dish such as this could not possibly qualify as my favorite meal. However, because it is one that I was able to savor with my parents after a long, taxing first week of college, it has become so much more than simply soup. This creamy, chunky culinary mélange represents not only an amazing dish, but the love I feel for my family. An easy-to-make, warm and savory concoction; it was a small bit of comfort in a whirlwind of unfamiliarity.

My mom and I were contemplating what to have for dinner on a Saturday night a few weeks ago. The week before, as a new college student at the University of New England, I had enjoyed an aromatic turkey soup at the campus dining hall. As I put the first spoonful in my mouth, I tasted the simmered flavors of rice, turkey and broth that delightfully lingered on my taste buds. The warm and cozy feeling I received immediately reminded me of home, so when I returned to my familiar kitchen for the weekend, I wanted to replicate it. Since I had never made soup before, I searched for recipes on the internet, and found what appeared to be a close match. My mom and I decided to give it a try, and began with a visit to the local Hannaford to pick up the necessary ingredients. We did our shopping getting the necessary supplies such as, turkey meat, carrots, celery, onions, and many other vegetables to create that unbelievably luscious and rich flavor.

I decided that in addition to comfort from the food we were about to prepare, I wanted to surround myself with happy feelings. So, after we returned home, I pulled up the Frank Sinatra radio station on Pandora to instantly bring images of my grandfather to mind. Much like the final scene of It’s a Wonderful Life, I could picture him playing the piano in his living room, singing various old jazz tunes at the top of his lungs, while our whole family gathered around the upright. You see, my grey-haired, bespectacled, and outgoing grandfather or “Opa” as he was known, always loved jazz and his memory is one I cherish to this day. He was a loving man who always made me feel as if I had a friend to talk to or play the piano with. He also happened to love turkey soup.

With the steady beat of Frank Sinatra’s, “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” playing in the background, we put the turkey in the oven to roast and began to dice, peel and shred various forms of vegetables: potatoes, carrots, celery, and mushrooms. It was fun; it was normal; it was love. Forgetting all about my recent college experiences, I never wanted my time together with my parents to end. I was having fun, forgetting about all of the changes that had occurred and will occur in the coming months. I was finally in a place that I knew. After the crazy, chaotic week I had endured, where it felt as if my head were in a constant, never-ending spin, I was relaxed and at ease.

Sizzle, crackle! The sound of the pancetta as it danced in the hot olive oil kept you on your toes. Then came the aroma of diced carrots and the shallots as they were added next to the kettle. The cooking vapors filled the room with love. Following the recipe, I began to pick the soft turkey meat off of the bone. My mom continued to chop and dice. As I closed my eyes, I breathed slowly; deep breaths in and out. I was in my place of serenity; I was home. I asked my mom why she thought I liked this dish and she made a great point replying, “I think it is your favorite dish right now because it is a comfort food that reminds you of pleasurable things: family, holidays. It has ingredients that are foods that you normally like such as turkey and vegetables.” She was correct in her assessment, as I like to pride myself being a fairly health-conscious person, always eating fresh and quality foods that will enable my body to maximize its performance on the court, the classroom, and in daily activities. I also love to celebrate holidays because they are times when I can be around people I love and who love me in return. I continued to stir the kettle of soup with my wooden spoon. I felt the steam and the heat of the soup surround my hand as I continued the clockwise stirring motion. The timer on the kitchen oven was almost at zero which meant the soup would be ready to eat. As I looked into the kettle, the multitude of colors from the vegetables reminded me of my college days to date: dozens of vivid pieces swirling in as many different directions without any pattern or order. As I continued to stir, I thought about all of the different things that had happened in my life recently. I tried to think positively and as the spoon worked its magic, all of the vegetables, which resembled my troubles, vanished as the arrangement of carrots, potatoes, and celery formed one smooth mass.

My mom, dad and I sat in our Cherrywood kitchen chairs around six o’clock that night. The pumpkin spice scented candle in the center of our circular mahogany kitchen table was just barely flickering over the glass edge as we all lifted our stainless, curved spoons. I took my first taste. The warm, creamy, yet chunky soup filled my taste buds with a wonderful array of flavors. My face lit up as if I were on a Campbell’s Soup commercial on a cold snowy night. I could feel the warmth of the soup travel to different parts of my body. The sourdough bread accompanying the soup perfectly combined to form one of the most marvelous palate-pleasing sensations ever produced! I looked around after taking a couple of spoonfuls. I was in love with my surroundings. Asking my mom later about why she thought I loved making this dish so much, she acknowledged, “Making it from scratch was a chance to spend special time together in the kitchen doing something together that we both really enjoy. Food is an emotional connection for people.” I would agree because I was surrounded by my support system and was oblivious to the fact that in less than 24 hours, I would have to return to college. I finally had forgotten about all my worries for the moment. As I continued to consume spoonful after spoonful of heavenly soup, I turned to my left to watch our television: Bill Green’s Maine, a local program that my family has watched for years, was on as it is every Saturday night at 7:00 pm. I listened closely as Bill Green, a white-haired, mustached man, talked to viewers at home about various Maine activities such as, sailing along the Penobscot River and hiking Tumbledown Mountain. There was comfort in all this familiarity. I was happy. As I finished up my last few sips of soup, I talked to my parents about their experiences in college and how they dealt with different issues they came across. I received many wise answers that I have used every day since. They told me that everything was going to be ok, as it often takes a while to get acclimated to a completely new place. This is comforting to know since it feels as if I am in a hopeless situation with no one to talk to. Believing in my parents’ wisdom, I know I will be comfortable with time.

It is truly remarkable how something so simple can evoke such emotion. In the wake of many different melancholy and somber feelings taking flight within me, it was very refreshing to be overcome with a feeling of such happiness. While I do love many other dishes, this turkey soup is not only about taste, it is about love and spending time with those who care for me and want to see me succeed. I am so thankful to have my parents in my life because of the support they constantly show me. I love being at home where I am comfortable, and I can only hope that the University of New England will one day feel like this as well! I am very lucky to know I have a happy place to go when I need comfort, help, or just someone to talk to, and my happy place is sitting and eating simply… turkey soup with my family.