A friend of mind posted a recipe on her blog for heartwarming vegetarian fare she called Gypsy Soup. This ancient secret family recipe, she claimed, was too good not to share.
Even reading the recipe made my mouth start to water. It sounded like a perfect soup for a cold day, and before I knew it I was envisioning a clear wintry afternoon and a snowshoe hike along the sheltered line of trees that runs the length of the river.
In a split second, my mind's eye captured every moment of that afternoon - the lingering scent of pine, the crunch of snow, and the return to a fire-warmed kitchen filled with the wafting smells of tumeric and sweet basil. Ladeling soup into pottery bowls and eating it at the golden pine table as daylight fades to long blue shadows outside the french doors, and the music of Aviva Chernik fills the house.
It made me stop and reflect on the nature of food in our lives. How food at it's most basic may just be something to sustain us, but taken further is something that nourishes not just body, but spirit as well. It's too easy on hurried days to put food on the table without much thought, and eat with even less, our mind on getting out the door to Cubs or a book club meeting. But with just a little bit of reflection, it can be so much more.