Fall calls for soup that warms the heart
October typically marks the beginning of Fall in most parts of the world, but in Arizona, things are almost always much different. For example, Arizona residents are used to being able to go without a jacket on the night of Halloween.
Although as if by some miracle, this year Hurricane Rosa passing through offered a glimpse into what most people must feel as they approach the fall season.
Temperatures lowered over the weekend allowing many residents to enjoy the usual fall activities like movies in the park, visiting pumpkin patches and sipping pumpkin spiced lattes.
In my house growing up October always meant breaking out the bins of Halloween decorations and beginning to plan a party that my siblings and I would invite all of our friends and classmates to.
As an adult who now has a much busier schedule, I try to find the joy of fall in smaller pleasures such as a festive film, a bowl of soup or a bag of fun-sized candies.
As I’m sure many people can relate, I have been feeling sick recently, so the perfect way for me to get into the spirit of fall this week was to indulge in a steaming bowl of tomato vegetable soup.
Paired with a melty grilled cheese sandwich and reruns of the “Halloweentown” movies I definitely felt 10-years-old all over again.
Although tomato may be the most classic soup, in my opinion, my favorite soup is definitely French onion.
If I am being honest it is probably similar to tomato soup for me in that it has nothing to do with the flavor of the soup, but a lot more to do with the memories that I have associated with the soup.
When I think about French onion soup I remember all of the times I shared it with my dad while being on holiday in Europe.
I have very fond memories of long conversations we would have while freezing outside of cafes in Paris when we weren’t ready to go back to our hotel yet.
We would enjoy our own bowls of hot broth filled with caramelized onions and topped with a crispy piece of sourdough covered in melted parmesan and followed by a warm cappuccino and a perfectly layered tiramisu.
When I eat this soup today, I am filled with the same happiness that I remember feeling when I shared these experiences with my dad.
Thinking about the tradition of sharing soup with family members on a brisk fall night also brings memories of my mom putting so much time and care into making the classic chicken noodle soup that is cherished by so many Americans.
The love that was expressed through each individual noodle she cut from the dough she made from scratch was always evident once we finally got to taste the savory broth after the hours she spent finishing it.
Though I have never been able to replicate this recipe just right, when I do attempt to make it, I can still remember the laughter and conversations that my family shared on the nights we were lucky enough to enjoy our mom’s legendary chicken noodle soup.
There are so many associations and memories that come to mind when I think about soup and that nostalgia is the perfect garnish to the many bowls I’m sure I will continue to enjoy this Fall season.
