you can never be too careful with soup. a fine broth will be ruined if it is cooked too fast. all too quick it will turn from a disease curing elixir to a oily mess with all the taste boiled out of it. and whatever character and unique textures it once had, that rich tapestry of ingredients will become too soft or too hard to sustain your interest or your life. of this I'm certain for I have ruined more than one pot with my impatience, clumsiness, and hunger.

this time Iím preparing it with loving care, stirring it constantly over a low flame. but there is no end to the tending. soup requires you use the simplest and best ingredients. pare them down. combine them well. add the right spices and cook it long and lovingly until that perfect moment of completeness has come. above all, you need to avoid the temptation to rush, to try to force it to completion, force it to lose its simmering soul to your momentary needs. allow itís complexity and character to develop at its own pace, for only then will it be truly satisfying.

every soup begun faithfully has potential for greatness. to reach far inside you and make you whole. it demands you apply care and faith as seasoning. but this is all that matters really. it may seem the soup will never be ready, is taking forever to be done. but if you cannot abide the preparation, you will be forced to survive on the ruined taste of your need or start over once again.

you and I know this. have gazed deeply into each otherís eyes, stirring gently. nothing but daylight and promise and the glowing scented beauty of what we tend. have faith my love, our recipe will feed the whole world. the lessons of the past have taught us that there's no mending a broken heart. we have learned to grow another.

[Writers] [Birdhouse]