Sometimes, you just have to eat soup.
On a recent chilly day around lunchtime, my inner core was screaming for something warm. I knew it wanted soup.
Alas, I had brought a nice salad for lunch, lovingly made by my husband – as he does nearly every day. I always enjoy these salads, but today, I knew it just wouldn’t be enough.
This was a post-Christmas work day, following a full day of nibbling for hours between an early breakfast and a late dinner. I knew my body would be exceptionally happy with the salad, loaded with leafy greens, tomatoes, carrots, broccoli and other healthful veggies.
But it was cold in the office, and colder outside my window. My innards were craving something a little more substantial and considerably warmer.
I needed soup.
But not just any soup would do. As a kid, I adored Campbell’s Tomato with saltine crackers. My mom used to make it for us – especially when we were sick – with milk, instead of water as the can directed. It was creamy and delicious.
The little kid in me thought that the Campbell people had invented soup. My mother’s vegetable soup proved that theory wrong. Moms invented soup.