Soup for Friend

If you are a human being with human friends, chances are you frequently find yourself in the kitchen, scratching your head saying things like "I wish there was something I could do." When we're lucky, this can mean a new baby -- What can I do to help you get some rest? But when we're not so lucky, it means How can I help you feel better? What can I do to take away a little of the pain? Whatever the situation may be, I usually come around to food. This should not come as breaking news. Once, when I dropped off a tortilla pie at a friend's house -- she was a mother of three and recovering from back surgery -- I remember peeking past her in the doorway and seeing a dining room table packed with foil-topped pyrex dishes. I know my delivery was still appreciated, but it got me thinking about other ways to package comfort. I came around to what you're looking at above: Soup. Usually two kinds -- one kid-friendly like the Chicken Orzo from my first book, and one wildcard, like the lentil soup from my upcoming book -- marked in zip-top bags with instructions and specific serving size. That way, whoever is on the receiving end can deposit the bags in the freezer, should he or she not be able to appreciate the delivery that very day. I know it's a small thing, but at least it's something.

I once delivered my individually packed soups in a shoebox. I felt bad for the kids, who probably thought they were getting a new pair of Nike Free Runs.

A few soups you might want to try out: Minestrone, Tomato White Bean, Chicken Orzo (page 290 in Dinner: A Love Story).