Essays

Simply Soup

Love. It is a word people use to describe a vast number of things: family, activities, or food, to name a few. This word describes how I feel about my family, mainly my mom and dad. Leaving them for college was one of the most challenging days of my life. I felt I was abandoning everything and everyone I knew. All that lay before me was unfamiliar: my teachers, peers, and surroundings. This is the reason my new favorite meal is simply, turkey soup. It is not a complex dish, a long-standing family tradition, or delicious memory from a favorite restaurant. It is in fact, a recipe found on the internet last weekend. To some, it might seem as though this could not possibly qualify as my favorite meal, but because it is one where I was able to enjoy both making and eating this dish with my parents after a long, taxing first week of college, it has become so. It was a small bit of comfort in the most unfamiliar week of my life.

My mom and I were wondering what to have for dinner on a Saturday night a few weeks back. As a new college student, I had tasted a warm, fragrant turkey soup at the dining hall at the University of New England the week before. I loved how the rice, turkey and broth, simmered together to create a creaminess as it lingered on my taste buds. It somehow reminded me of home, and when I was back in my familiar kitchen for the weekend, I wanted to replicate it. I searched the ingredients on the internet, and found what looked to be a great recipe. My mom and I decided to give it a try, starting with a visit to the local Hannaford to pick up the necessary ingredients. We did our shopping getting the necessary supplies such as carrots, celery, turkey meat, onions, and many other vegetables to create that amazing flavor. After we had returned home, I turned on the Frank Sinatra Radio station on Pandora to make me feel at home the way my grandfather used to play it. You see, my grandfather or “Opa” as he was known, always loved jazz and the memory of him still lives within me to this day. He was a loving man who always made me feel like I had a friend to talk to or to play the piano with. With, “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, mushrooms. It was fun; it was normal; it was love. I never wanted this 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.

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. 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 stated, “I think it is your favorite dish right now because it is a comfort food that reminds you (me) of pleasurable things: family, holidays. It has ingredients that are foods that you (me) normally like such as turkey and vegetables.” I like to pride myself as being fairly health-conscious, 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 continued to stir the kettle of soup with my wooden ladle. I felt the steam and the heat of the soup surround my hand as I continued the clockwise motion of stirring. The timer on the kitchen oven was almost at zero which meant the soup could be ready for consumption. As I looked into the kettle of soup, the array of colors the vegetables brought about symbolized the days that had occurred in college. Everything had happened so fast and all the days seemed to morph together much like the different vegetables became one whole soup. As I continued to stir I thought about all of the differences in my life that had happened. I tried to think positively and as I stirred all of the vegetables resembled my troubles and they all vanished as did the arrangement of legumes.

All three of us sat in our Cherrywood chairs at around six o’clock that night. The pumpkin spice scented candle at the center of our circular mahogany kitchen table, was just barely flickering over the glass edge as we all lifted our spoons. I took my first taste. The creamy, warm, yet chunky soup filled my taste buds with an amazing 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. We had sourdough bread too, which perfectly combined to form one of the most amazing sensations ever produced! I looked around after taking a couple of spoonful’s. I was in love with the situation I was in. I was surrounded by my support system and was finally oblivious to the fact that in less than 24 hours, I would have to return to my unfamiliar place. I finally had forgotten about all of my worries for the moment. As I continued to fill spoonful after spoonful full of chunky delicious soup, I turned to my left to see on the television: “Bill Green’s Maine” which is a local program that my family has always watched. I listened closely as this white-haired, mustached man talked to viewers at home about various events happening in Maine such as going sailing along the Penobscot River while reveling in the beautiful fall leafs that surround the water as the sun warmed the top of his head. As I finished up my last few sips of soup, I talked to my parents about their experience in college and how the dealt with different issues that they came across. I received many wise answers that I have used every day.

It is amazing how something so simple can bring someone such a tremendous amount of emotion.