On My Stovetop

Ah, chicken soup! Fragrant, inviting, filling the kitchen, wafting out into the dining room, its invisible curls of scent reach every room and beckons to come and taste it, welcoming any visitor with its aroma. Culinary poetry, it can be as mystic and pure in its simplicity as a haiku, as philosophical as Goethe or as detailed as an epic.

Chicken soup invokes nostalgic memories of childhood - perhaps a mother or grandmother preparing it for the family or for someone suffering from yet another cold or bout of influenza. It is balsam to the heart and eating a bowl of it feels cared for, cozy and healthy. It is the ultimate comfort food.

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Chicken Soup bubbled on my stove top all day Monday. My Mom's recipe. The perfect medicine for a windy, rainy, and frigid day. For my sick husband. For my sister-in-law.

I just love to see colourful vegetables chopped up and sitting in a pot, waiting to be turned into something that will fill empty tummies. I decided today that Chicken Soup, on the right day, is tied for first with bread in the oven for kitchen smells.