Pumpkin soup for a wintery day.

May 2nd, 2007

This wretched cold has had a grip on my head and lungs for almost a week. The past few days I have been mostly bed-ridden, too tired to even acknowledge a shift in time between night and day.

The first real spark of energy in a week has emanated from me today. Still weary, but I’m determined to get up, shower, and at least veg in front of the t.v. to get my dose of Dr Phil and Oprah Winfrey!

As I meandered my way around the kitchen, deciding if I wanted some food, or just settle with a hot cup of coffee, my body signaled a desire for soup.

Pumpkin soup. Creamy, warm, comforting pumpkin soup.

There is something heartfelt about soup when you are sick. It’s such a nurturing food. It reminds me of my childhood. My mother would make me pots of chicken and vegetable soup when I was sick. I have carried on the tradition into my adult hood. Except today, I want pumpkin soup.

It’s a wintery day outside. We’re staying with friends in Perth, W.A. They’re at work. ‘Hubby’ is out for the morning, and I’m home alone. It’s cold, wet and windy and I’m totally unprepared for the weather. Living in Port Hedland these past two years has its disadvantages with the constant heat, but it’s very rarely cold. Perhaps I won’t complain any more about the heat when I go back ‘home’.

I’m tucked up inside, watching the rain pelt against the second storey windows. The view of the ocean is obscured by the haze of heavenly tears. When the ocean is visible, it’s a demonstration of angry waves, with lots of white caps. A lone fishing boat is smashing its way forward along the coast line, bobbing in and out of view.

My attention is reverted back to the pot of stock boiling over on the stove, as the liquid sizzles when it hits the hot plate. A collection of pumpkin pieces, sweet potato and a normal spud are added to the pot. The soupy mix seasoned with a dash of cumin, curry and bay leaves. The aroma of the garlic and onion permeates the air, filling the home with a sense of comfort, warmth and love that only the smells of home-cooking can conjure.

It’s always an adventure when I cook in someone else’s kitchen. Familiarity with equipment is replaced with a sense of a foreign ground and innovation comes to the forefront. I’ve a passion for kitchen gadgets. At home, I have a tool for EVERYTHING. I’m playing in someone else’s playground, with their ‘toys’ and adapting to multi-use tools again.

There is no stab-mixer.

I’m scratching my head wondering how my friend cooks so well with so little in the way of kitchen tools. She is a legend.

I find a potato masher. It’s all I have to blend the soup. So I let the mix cook a little longer so it basically dissolves into a self-blended mush. Its seasoning is adjusted, with a dash of cracked black pepper, sea salt and nutmeg.

It’s perfection! Served up with a dash of cream swirled through. It’s smooth velvety texture caressing my throat as I swallow a mouthful of the warm liquid. A coat of love trailing into my belly.

Content, I lounge on the couch, snuggled under a blanket, with a box of tissues nearby. My body is nurtured with the love and warmth of good food, good nutrition and lots of rest.

Entry Filed under: Food for health