Soup is good for the soul.
Even though the daytime temperatures rise to the mid-eighties, and the night temperatures drop only to the mid-sixties, my body craves soup.
Something about the changing of the seasons, the shortening of the days, the turning to deep-rootedness calls me to nourish my body and spirit with long-simmering broths rich with bone, meat, fat, and vegetables pulled from the earth or cut from the stem.
On the stove sits simmering a beef broth brews
even as I type. The garden yielded up glorious bounty to add to the meat we grilled over wooden coals. The smoky aroma of the broth whets my appetite and stimulates my energy.
The deep orange carrots, pulled fresh from the soil, washed, diced, and plopped into the pot mingle with the fresh harvested celery, pepper and the store bought gems of onion, garlic, daikon and jicama.
I look forward to a steaming bowl of autumn goodness.
Something about the changing of the seasons, the shortening of the days, the turning to deep-rootedness calls me to nourish my body and spirit with long-simmering broths rich with bone, meat, fat, and vegetables pulled from the earth or cut from the stem.
On the stove sits simmering a beef broth brews
The deep orange carrots, pulled fresh from the soil, washed, diced, and plopped into the pot mingle with the fresh harvested celery, pepper and the store bought gems of onion, garlic, daikon and jicama.
I look forward to a steaming bowl of autumn goodness.
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