Inevitably, I came down with a cold once the weather shifted. Autumn breezes turned into winter gusts of wind, often accompanied by slushy half-frozen rain. The days became shorter and darkness fell sooner than I was ready for. In fact, I am not yet ready at all for the coming months of frigid slush and wind tunnels, but I am optimistic enough to keep in mind that I have many things to look forward to as well.
One of the many comforts of winter is the arrival of soup season! Even though I make soup all year round, I much prefer the heartier varieties that I get to make come wintertime. I always experiment with new combinations, but when the time calls for it I always fall back on the classic favorite of soups- chicken noodle. My mom makes the absolute best chicken noodle soup and I don’t care who says otherwise. Feel free to challenge her because you will lose. I like her technique not only because it is very flavorful, but also because she always makes it in a “made-to-order” fashion. Every time we have rotisserie chicken for dinner, I know that within the next few days my mom will throw all of the saved up bones into a pot of water with other seasonings and let it boil down for hours. I can’t think of anything that makes me feel more nostalgic than tasting this soup and remembering back to how our family members could be in any room of the house and still smell the aroma of chicken broth wafting out from the kitchen. Once the broth was ready, my mom would lay out big pots of pasta, peas, and chicken pieces. We would then all go down the line and add as much of each ingredient that we wanted into our own bowls. I loved this because everyone likes their soup a little different. Me- I like it full of goods- lots of pasta and peas to accompany the flavorful, herb-infused broth. Throw in a dash of Maggi at the end and its perfect.
People really don’t realize how lucky they are to have someone take care of them when they’re ill as children. Now that I am in college, I have a routine for when I get sick. No matter how horrible or fatigued I feel, I throw on my onsie pajamas and devote the few hours necessary to cook up my moms chicken noodle soup recipe, no short-cuts allowed. I curl up on the couch with a steaming bowl of soup and pop When Harry Met Sally into the DVD player. Who needs medication when I have that foolproof cure?
P.S. sorry but the recipe is top secret!
