Читать книгу Eat – The Little Book of Fast Food - Nigel Slater - Страница 67

There is much pleasure to be found in a bowl of soup. Cradling our food is a great comfort, especially when it comes in the form of an aromatic liquid such as a steaming broth or thick soup. This is food that instantly soothes and satiates, warms and satisfies. Food that restores.

There is something right about food in a bowl. The hot liquor on your spoon; the warmth of the bowl in your hands; the final scraping of spoon against china – they enable us to feel closer to what we eat. Unlike a plate on a table, we can feel the heat of our food through the porcelain.

The shape of a bowl traps the smell of our food, like a wine glass. As we hold it in our hands and dip in our spoon, fork or chopsticks we experience more of its fragrance: the scent of sweet garlic, warm rice, hot milk, deep broth. Of course we can’t cut food in a bowl, and neither should we. The ingredients should be in small enough pieces that no knife is required.

Meals in a bowl are probably at their best when they are simple. I have always loved rice in a bowl. Just plain, white rice. Pure and unsullied. You know you could, if needs be, survive on it. You feel you need nothing more.

But there is more. Oh glory, yes. A little stew of chicken with herbs; a deep, salty broth of beef stock and green vegetables; a spicy laksa; a dahl thick with soft pulses and spice; a Vietnamese-style pho with slithery noodles and coriander. The simplicity of a bowl of golden chicken stock.

Our bowl can be as simple or as elaborate as we wish. A crude earthenware container, a delicate porcelain receptacle, a workaday white soup dish, a piece of ironmonger’s enamel, something hand thrown, a family heirloom or something disposable. Whatever we use, it fulfils the same purpose. To hold our food and enable us, should we wish, to cradle it. Comfort food at its most satisfying.

A few favourites