On some things I've learned about soup.

So the three of you that actually read this blog might have noticed that I missed last week. It is, after all, the time of year for me to come down with whatever sickness is circulating in my region.

But wait, there's more. I happened to fall ill just as I was scheduled for three days off in a row. And just as I had a chicken carcass waiting for me in the fridge, with backup homemade stock in the freezer. The conditions were right. It was time for soup.

And so I spent nigh on a hundred hours drifting in and out of sleep, jacked on NyQuil and warmed by slumbering cats, forging one iteration of soup after another. And in this plagued delirium, truths became known to me. Gone were ideas of recipes and plans. There was only bowl and spoon and water and light.

And so I come to you, dear readers, to share with you what facets of soupitude I've gleaned.

Proportions

You can read recipes until your eyes bleed, but the fact is, no one knows what you want in a soup better than you do. How much stock should you use? Enough. How many vegetables or chunks of meat should you add to your pot-au-feu? Enough. How many potatoes should you puree to get the consistency you want? Enough.

Let go of the numbers and use your eyes and tongues. More so than any other dish, you can always add a little of this or a bit of that to get what you're looking for. Trust yourself. Taste as you go. Discover what you love. Ever wonder why restaurants always have a rotating soup of the day? It's because you can make a soup out of pretty much anything.

And remember, if it tastes good together on a plate, it'll probably play nice in a soup.

Gelatin

The backbone of almost any good soup is a good stock. And good stocks come from bones, because bones give you gelatin. And everyone has an assload of veal or chicken bones to make stock from on a regular basis, right? Right?

Right. So you're working with cartoned broth. If you can't get the real thing, do yourself a favor and snag some unflavored gelatin. You'd be surprised how far a little body to the liquid can go, especially in the clear soup game.

Fat

Actually, while we're talking about body, let's talk about fat. It's not really one of those things you think about when you think soup, which means it gets overlooked all the damn time. But don't underestimate the power of fat - hell, just watch the first season of Mind of a Chef and you'll see what I'm talking about. If you're making your own stock, be a little lax about skimming the fat off the top. Drop a pat of butter or a gloomp of extra-virgin olive oil into the bowl. Let the lipids cling to your tongue, let that lushness bring dimension to the flavors you've worked so hard to combine.

I've only scratched the surface here. The world of soups is vast and glorious, with as many permutations as there are ingredients and cooking methods as there are in creation. It's winter, people - play with your soups and reap the rewards.