SOUP 2.0: ONION SOUP

This seems like an oddly specific example – I promise you, it’s worth it. In the Harry Potter universe, Mrs. Weasley dominates a lot of the cooking narrative with her superb wand skills in the kitchen (and knack for cooking as a whole). Within this narrative, Mrs. Weasley often creates splendid meals and pushes them onto Harry, her surrogate son. In Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Harry is escorted to the Burrow after assisting Dumbledore with his quest to persuade Horace Slughorn to join the Hogwarts staff (a necessity to retrieving his unique memory of Tom Riddle). When he arrives, he realizes how hungry he is. Not to worry – Mrs. Weasley to the rescue.

“.. rapping a large iron pot with her wand. It bounced onto the stove with a loud clang and began to bubble at once…she tapped the pot again; it rose into the air, flew toward Harry, and tipped over; Mrs. Weasley slid a bowl neatly beneath it just in time to catch the stream of thick, steaming onion soup.

‘Bread, dear?’ [Harry accepts]

[Molly’s news] ‘I don’t know whether Ron’s told you in any of his letters – it’s only just happened – but Arthur’s been promoted!’

Harry swallowed a large amount of very hot soup and thought he could feel his throat blistering. ‘That’s great!’ he gasped”.

Mm mm MM! This description is quick and to the point – there isn’t even a lot of description surrounding the soup itself. However, Rowling milks every word she has. With the added element of the soup ‘streaming’ from the pot, the texture and consistency is elevated and emphasized. It reminds me of sipping a hot broth directly from a large cup (it’s the little pleasures in life) – rustic and wholesome. Likewise, the heat of the soup is emphasized. As some readers may know, this something I must EMPHASIZE. Hot soups (that is, soups that are meant to be eat whilst hot) MUST BE HOT! The heat is essential to their being, and the difference in temperature can mean the difference between a good soup, and a godsent soup. Likewise, the heat of a soup must be based on how quickly the heat will dissipate from the bowl. Thus, to compensate, the soup’s original temperature must be SCALDING (this is something that Mrs. Weasley KNOWS).

Yes, burning soup running down your throat doesn’t seem immediately pleasurable.. but, there is something to be said about the assurance that when you sip your soup, it will be piping hot. This point about hot soup is quite critical to my identity as a foodie and as a person. Prepare to hear many more rants about this. 🙂

Now, before we (I) get carried away about hot soup, there is another mention of onion soup in the Harry Potter novels that is very much worth mentioning. An unlikely chef emerges after receiving kind treatment from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Kreacher is an interesting character that serves both sides of the coin throughout the series. Acting as a catalyst for the death of Sirius, Harry faces a lot of inner turmoil reconciling Sirius as the man he knew (and loved as a father), with the man who despised Kreacher because of his connection to his family. Sirius was an honorable man – a man who once told Harry,

“If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals”.

This theme is utterly poignant to the themes that arise in the series, from good vs evil, to defeating inequality within a system of prejudice. It proves to be a bitter end to Sirius, as his words echo throughout and beyond his death. Kreacher was an unloved and lonely creature, one who found comfort and attention from Bellatrix and Narcissa. In turn, he betrayed Sirius. This is not to say that Sirius was not an honorable man – he treated most creatures in the Harry Potter universe with respect and care. In the case of Kreacher, however, his [just] hatred of his family permeated into his treatment of Kreacher. In his case, he paid for it with his life.

On a slightly more cheerful note (talking about Sirius can only lead to more tears…), Harry slowly opens up to Kreacher as he (+ Ron and Hermione) plot their horcrux quest in Grimmauld place. After recognizing the mistreatment and abuse that Kreacher suffered at the hands of wizards, Harry gifts him with a genuine Black heirloom, one that Regulus Black created after turning on Voldemort. Kreacher is overcome with emotion and gratitude. His character changes immensely after that, proving the difference that someone’s gratitude and care can make in a being’s life:

Retrieved from GIPHY

(from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows)

“The kitchen was almost unrecognizable. Every surface now shone: Copper pots and pans have been burnished to a rosy flow; the wooden tabletop gleamed; the goblets and plates already laid for dinner in the light from a merrily blazing fire, on which a cauldron was simmering. Nothing in the room, however, was more dramatically different than the house-elf who now came hurrying toward Harry, dressed in a snowy-white towel, his ear hair as clean and fluffy as cotton wool, Regulus’s locket bouncing on his thin chest.

…Kreacher came bustling to the table with a large tureen in his hands, and ladled out soup into pristine bowls, whistling between his teeth as he did so.

[Harry] began to spoon soup into his mouth. The quality of Kreacher’s cooking had improved dramatically ever since he had been given Regulus’s locket: Today’s French onion soup was a good as Harry had ever tasted”.

Oh, Kreacher. You really show us that the best ingredient to any dish, is love.

MY BIGGEST WEAKNESS: SOUP

Since anything that I can remember, soup has always held a near and dear part of my heart. From chunky stews to clear broths (and all the creaminess existing in between), soups have always been my kryptonite as a reader and an eater. One scene in Collins’, Catching Fire, in particular, drew me in. Set in the Capitol where Peeta and Katniss meet the final feast of their victory tour, Katniss describes the food as the stars of the feast, not them. In an effort to try all of the hundreds of dishes available, Katniss sets a ‘one bite per dish’ rule for herself, but describes a particularly tempting moment when she encounters the table of soups:

“My resolve is almost broken at the first table, which has twenty or so soups, when I encounter a creamy pumpkin brew sprinkled with slivered nuts and tiny black seeds. ‘I could just eat this all night!’ I exclaim. But I don’t. I weaken again at a clear green broth that I can only describe as tasting like springtime, and again when I try a frothy pink soup dotted with raspberries” (p 38).

Wow. Let’s break that down. Three soups were mentioned: the creamy pumpkin with the nuts/seeds, the clear green broth that tastes like springtime, and the frothy pink with raspberries. With the creamy pumpkin soup, I can only think of the most harvest-esque of times, potentially a soup to eat at a nearby rustic farm-to-table restaurant while sitting on barrels and heavily bundled with thick sweaters and scarves. The frothy pink one, I’ll admit, was the least tempting when I read this description. However, its ‘frothy’ nature made me curious about its consistency, and moreover, the temperature it was served. I imagine a chilled and refreshing soup, tasting slightly like a strawberry milkshake, but with an infinitely smoother consistency and a lighter taste. Now, for me, the real cream of the crop of the bunch was the clear broth. Piping hot and with a light but savory taste, this soup seems to be the perfect soup for a day sick in bed, a balm for a bad day, and a companion for any type of movie. It’s soothing yet invigorating; it’s hot yet refreshing (more to come on the temperature of soups..). It’s savory to a tee, but never salty or overwhelming. It warms parts of your stomach and soul that you didn’t think could feel warmth. It feels like rejuvenation, it feels like springtime.