Getting Geeky Over Homemade Soup

It was a perfect night for soup. Cold, with a hint of Autumn. And from gray laden skies, rain in a steady downpour, drumming its damp wet fingers against the windows, to make its presence known to those inside ...

There's something soul satisfying about making homemade soup. The sound that your knife makes against the cutting board as you slice the carrots, dice the celery, the smell of rosemary and bay leaves rising in a sweet steaming aroma from the simmering pot.

You are an earth mother, standing before the stove, adding a pinch of this and a dash of of that. And no one needs to tell you when, or how much, instinctively you just seem to know. And because of this, you feel fulfilled. Thinking, I have made this with my own two hands, this nurturing goodness that is soup. And because of this my child shall grow healthy and strong, like a flower nurtured with sun and rain.

And though it sounds silly, you are quite proud of this little moment. Proud that you chose to take the extra time to provide better nourishment than opening a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, Cheese and Macaroni ...

Because you could have. There are boxes a plenty in the cupboard to give testimony to that fact. And yet still, the decision made, you took your time, opting for slow and steady rather than fast just to win the race.

And what a meal has come from it. Every bite savored until reaching the bottom of the cup, too full to ask for more. And this, this is the true measure of greatness. Realizing that the better something is for you, the less you need to ease the hunger pains inside.