I know as a Puerto Rican, most say it’s soup season in any weather, and this is true! This proved true when my uncle ordered soup on a very hot July day in Puerto Rico. But as a Nuyorican—what they call me on the archipelago, this is not so true for me. I didn’t grow up eating soup in the summer. Liquid meals were reserved for the Fall and Winter; rainy days especially. I say liquid meals because my Papi would joke around and say “I’m hungry, not thirsty” every time my mom made soup for dinner. We all would laugh, and of course, he would eat his soup. So many kinds; sopa de salchichon, gandule soup with bolas de guineo, split pea, tomato, chicken noodle soup. So many kinds! soups galore!
It wasn’t until I was a little older and with my very own kitchen to cook in, that I appreciated my mami’s affinity and passion for cooking. I don’t know if cooking is genetic, but if so, I got that gene from her! In that same kitchen, I also realized, I miss the meals and liquid meals my mom made, that I found most comforting. I wasn’t close enough to pick up a huge frozen to-go tub of soup or sofrito, so I relied on FaceTimes and texts with ingredients and directions. One day, I was really missing home and was very cold in my apartment, and I REALLY wanted soup! So I got to brainstorming. I got my yellow dutch oven, fresh garlic, and onions. Some of my go-to seasonings; salt, pepper, chili flakes, garlic powder, and turmeric, smoked paprika, bay leaf. Sauteed all of that up with some oil, added water (veggie or chicken stock is good too), and seasoned as I needed. I thought let’s add some potato too, oh! and some pasta! Orecchiette to be exact. While I let that boil and cook until al-dente. I remembered to add some veggies, so I added carrots. Great for you, and look nice in a soup! this soup was coming together and I was excited. Thinking of some of my favorite flavors, I thought “I love lemon,” so I added the juice of a lemon—tangy, acid, bright, and fun! with a hint of spice and comfort. This soup was coming together. Tender veggies and cooked pasta reminded me of texture. Crunch is good and we like to balance textures in my home! so I diced up some red bell peppers and added that to my bright mustard-colored soup. Stirred and tasted, absolutely yummy! Like most good things in cooking, they’re often finished or garnished with fresh herbs. Ya girl had some parsley, so you can assume what I did next. Chopped the hell out of that parsley (be careful not to bruise your herbs) and added that to my cute yellow pot. My soup was done!
Grabbing a bowl from my cupboard and ladling in this fine, creative, concoction—I was very happy with myself. Gave it a good dusting of parmesan cheese and got into it. I was so pleased with myself, I cried. Yes, I did cry. Dramatic? maybe, endearing? in my opinion, yes. I FaceTimed my momma while I was eating, and I thanked her for all of the soups she had made for me, and let her know I deeply missed her. I was proud of myself, I had given myself a taste of home, with my spin. The nostalgia was there, but with different flavors and ingredients. Months later, and I was finally able to make that soup for my mom and sister…they loved it! thank god, because momma is a tough critic—she knows how to cook damn good, so her enjoyment means a lot to me. Nothing makes me happier than when someone enjoys my food.
So yes, it’s no sancocho or any of the soups I mentioned earlier, but it is my bright soup of nostalgia. The first soup I made for myself with no written recipe, a soup I will make for many others, and a soup I hope you make too. Share it with loved ones, friends, a lover, or serve yourself twice. Whatever it is, I hope you enjoy your liquid meal. Buen provecho everyone.