Soup

I don’t know many families who eat four different kinds of homemade soup on a normal night, not to mention the night before Christmas Eve. We do.

My mother, who is my food guru (see my “About Me” for more info) cannot tolerate having guests and not serving them something amazing, so when my grandparents arrived at our house the night before Christmas Eve, she was ready with three pots of soup, and one saucepan available for Sarabeth’s famous Cream of Tomato soup.

The soups in question were as follows:

The carrot-ginger soup was sweet and smooth. Pureed within an inch of its life, you’d swear that the taste and texture came from cups of heavy cream, but you’d be mistaken.

The potato leek was not the traditional creamy soup, nor did it have the chunks of potatoes and onions that are typical of a more country-style soup. This one was made specifically for my little sister, who is quite picky, and likes her soup like she likes her instant mashed potatoes: smooth smooth smooth. While this one was not my favorite (I like my soups full of texture), the flavor made up for it. Sweet from the cream with the slight bite of leek and the full-flavored starchiness from the potatoes, this is a warming winter soup.

Mushroom, however, was the undisputed favorite. With mushrooms chopped so fine, you’d only recognize them from their woodsy aroma, and just enough black pepper to send those little pricks of heat to the tip of your tongue, this soup was, without a doubt, the first to go. I, myself, went back for the carrot-ginger until we left for Italy, right after Christmas, but hey, that’s just me.

That other pot up above? Oh… that’s about fifteen pounds of potatoes for Christmas Eve, the next day. You think making three pots of soup would slow down my mother? Nonsense.

Mommy aka Mrs. Claus with Marnie aka my grandma.