Tomato Soup for the Soul
In the midst of my chaotic week, I found solace in something today.
I found it . . . in a bowl of . . . Tomato Rose Marina soup.
I have problems, don't I? Is it wrong that food can make it all better? I'm sure that is, like, step #1 for Over Eaters Anonymous, "Hi. My name is Leanne, and I am having an unhealthy relationship with Tomato Rose Marina soup." Ah, what the heck . . . let's just enjoy it today and not delve into the psychological meaning behind being in love with a bowl of soup, shall we?
There is this tiny little cafe near my work where we will, occasionally, get lunch. By occasionally - I do really mean occasionally. Sometimes it's just once a month. We don't really order lunch out very often . . . but we CALL them regularly (if not daily) . . . to ask what kind of soup they have.
Because, my friends, THIS SOUP is worth calling for. Daily.
Today I brought a sandwich to work for lunch, and a little pack of hummus and carrots. But all of a sudden, I heard Rita (my soup partner in crime) say, "What kind of soup do you have today? . . . oh, hold on . . . " which could only mean ONE thing. . . THEY had IT.
She asked if I wanted any, and suddenly it's as if my little sandwich became the wicked step-mother. I think I replied something like, "HELL, YEAH!" And, in what seemed like an eternity later, I had my little bowl of Tomato Rose Marina Soup. It was actually more like, 5 minutes later. But when you are waiting for THIS soup, it seems like FOREVER.
We haven't had it in months, truthfully. But it was just as good as I remembered. In between phone calls and researching things for work, Rita exclaimed, "I would eat this soup everyday!" and you know what? I would, too.
I enjoyed every little bit of that soup. I think it took me 1 hour to finish it. I would take a spoonful, then work. Then look at the bowl, lovingly. Take another spoonful, then work some more. It somehow felt like I was making it last l o n g e r. It has the most delicious seasoned yummy tomato base with tiny orzo noodles cooked to perfection that truly melt in your mouth LIKE BUTTAH and . . . have I gone on too much? I'm sorry.
I really don't want to know how they make it. I don't want the recipe. I would never dream of trying to duplicate it. And heaven forbid - I might find out that it comes from some sort of Campbell's soup can. So, I have no desire to ask them a single thing about it. You know what they say, "too much of a good thing . . . " So, right now - calling Cozy Cafe and asking them what their soup of the day is, is pretty much the BEST way to have this soup.
Because right in the middle of a chaotic week . . . there is a moment of peace . . . in my soup.
I found it . . . in a bowl of . . . Tomato Rose Marina soup.
I have problems, don't I? Is it wrong that food can make it all better? I'm sure that is, like, step #1 for Over Eaters Anonymous, "Hi. My name is Leanne, and I am having an unhealthy relationship with Tomato Rose Marina soup." Ah, what the heck . . . let's just enjoy it today and not delve into the psychological meaning behind being in love with a bowl of soup, shall we?
There is this tiny little cafe near my work where we will, occasionally, get lunch. By occasionally - I do really mean occasionally. Sometimes it's just once a month. We don't really order lunch out very often . . . but we CALL them regularly (if not daily) . . . to ask what kind of soup they have.
Because, my friends, THIS SOUP is worth calling for. Daily.
Today I brought a sandwich to work for lunch, and a little pack of hummus and carrots. But all of a sudden, I heard Rita (my soup partner in crime) say, "What kind of soup do you have today? . . . oh, hold on . . . " which could only mean ONE thing. . . THEY had IT.
She asked if I wanted any, and suddenly it's as if my little sandwich became the wicked step-mother. I think I replied something like, "HELL, YEAH!" And, in what seemed like an eternity later, I had my little bowl of Tomato Rose Marina Soup. It was actually more like, 5 minutes later. But when you are waiting for THIS soup, it seems like FOREVER.
We haven't had it in months, truthfully. But it was just as good as I remembered. In between phone calls and researching things for work, Rita exclaimed, "I would eat this soup everyday!" and you know what? I would, too.
I enjoyed every little bit of that soup. I think it took me 1 hour to finish it. I would take a spoonful, then work. Then look at the bowl, lovingly. Take another spoonful, then work some more. It somehow felt like I was making it last l o n g e r. It has the most delicious seasoned yummy tomato base with tiny orzo noodles cooked to perfection that truly melt in your mouth LIKE BUTTAH and . . . have I gone on too much? I'm sorry.
I really don't want to know how they make it. I don't want the recipe. I would never dream of trying to duplicate it. And heaven forbid - I might find out that it comes from some sort of Campbell's soup can. So, I have no desire to ask them a single thing about it. You know what they say, "too much of a good thing . . . " So, right now - calling Cozy Cafe and asking them what their soup of the day is, is pretty much the BEST way to have this soup.
Because right in the middle of a chaotic week . . . there is a moment of peace . . . in my soup.
Oh my....that sounds like a good Friday during Lent soup. Looks like we may have to schedule a Friday scrap, pick some up mid-day and chill in LT's fridge til we're ready for dinner!!! I wonder if it would change the taste....nahh!!! Good soup keeps!!!
ReplyDeleteSounds like THE BEST soup. I don't even like tomato soup but this one I gotta try!!
ReplyDeleteMy hubby is in love with a local soup here...Pablano Pepper Cheese and another one Roasted Red Pepper. When he is having a bad day that is what he reaches for (if they have it!!)
Thinking of you this hectic week my friend!
Oh, I'm with Peggy. Can we request they have that soup on that day? Oh, I think LT can talk them into it.
ReplyDelete