It is a well established fact that I love soup. I write about it pretty often, it made my last meal list, and I really, really love my Williams-Sonoma soup book. I think one of the reasons I love soup so much is the routine. Not only does it insinuate itself deeply into a daily routine, it has a lovely routine all its own.
Almost every soup I've made starts with 1 onion, finely chopped; 1 carrot, peeled and thinly sliced; 1 stalk of celery, thinly sliced. Now I know that these are aromatics and that they play an important role in the soups. But there is a difference between what I know and what I love (sometimes). And I love the familiar routine of starting a soup. They start the same--the same steps, the same ingredients--and they turn into things so deliciously different.
I made a lentil soup that was a really pleasant surprise--also a surprise that lasted for abour 4 or 5 days (I ate a lot of soup last week). It had curry powder, lemon slices, and spinach--ingredients that all really brightened the flavor. It was a hearty soup that didn't feel too hearty. I was full and satisfied after a bowl of it, but I didn't feel the drdgery that goes along with so many hearty and healhty dishes (I get this feeling when eating oatmeal. Its good but so often, what a bore!). It was a delight, not a duty, to spoon up those lentils.
(In other more prosaic news, I recently acquired a camera. So i hope that soon Cheese or Death will come with pictures!!!)