I love soup. I love purées, creams, and bisques. But most of all, to me, nothing surpasses the humble soup broth. They’re light, rich in flavour, and deeply comforting. When done right, of course. There’s a certain satisfaction I find in a well-made, clear broth. And they’re most definitely a labour of love.
Just last month, I took my friend’s kitchen hostage as she battled COVID for the third time. The space was a lot smaller than what I was used to, and it proved difficult not knowing where most things were located. I spent a good couple of hours in her kitchen prepping ingredients, observing, and making minor changes as I went along. After, it was followed by my couch-sitting skills and checking on the soup every so often before speedily making my way home before my evening plans.
It was a lot of work, but I’m telling you, it was worth the effort. I had a little taste of it before I left, and I confidently knew it was right on track to becoming something great in the next few hours. I was proud of what I had prepared, but it came with a touch of regret knowing I wouldn’t get to taste the final product. I knew it turned out well because I later got the approval of my friend’s very Asian parents… success!
And can I just say, a bone broth is the epitome of good soup. It’s my favourite thing to have when I’m sick since it goes down very easily, has nutrients in it, and won’t make you nauseous in the slightest. The only thing is, because it’s so labour intensive, I can’t ever comfortably make it for myself during those predicaments. Preparation takes time, and it requires a decent amount of vigour to do properly (not me trying to manifest someone who will put in the hours to care for me like this when I’m sick).
I used to loathe having to do all the prep work because it took so long, but I have come to like bone broths so much that I do not take any shortcuts. The result is absolutely worth the work that I put in. Thanks to a handful of mediocre attempts (what I consider failures), I am now consistently achieving the things I had been looking for in my endeavours. A thin consistency, yet full of flavour, and unclouded in appearance.
Clear soups are undoubtedly my favourite. They take me back to moments of my childhood when family dinners happened at Chinese restaurants with large turntables. My large extended family, whichever side it was, would dine out on many special occasions. I can’t say there’s much about the memories themselves that hit me with nostalgia, but I did love the complimentary soup we were given prior to our dinners.
What can I say? I just have a weird fascination with that kind of soup. It was yummy, and I still love it! Maybe it was because of fragmented memories of my adolescence—like tasting unfinished broths on the stove, realising it tasted like meat-infused water, and my mum telling me it needed to be on the stove for several more hours. Honestly, the reason why I’m obsessed with it doesn’t matter to me, but I find it amazing how simple soup seems. And how difficult they can be to make.
So much time and effort go into making something seemingly so simple. The blanching and cleaning of the bones, the certain temperature which needs to be maintained, and balancing the flavour in the spices you use… it’s definitely a challenge! And a lot can go wrong if you’re not paying attention. So being able to execute the basic (yet still very demanding) steps in making a bone broth can take you a long way.
And just the same, using my knowledge and expertise, I very successfully made phở by myself for the first time. I had my church family over for lunch, and they loved it! Not to brag or anything, but some of them even said it was better than some restaurants. It’s been a long journey, but I’m glad my stubbornness has amounted to something, and my culinary endeavours have shown such promise.
Sometimes, the simplest of things are the most difficult to do or make well. Like soup. Soup is simple. But they’re not always easy to make. And that’s much like a lot of life, right? Just as I’ve made mistakes, eventually leading to increasing my proficiency in making soup broths, I hope you are encouraged to get up after failing, and develop the fortitude to tackle your problems. As you do that, I’ll take on the challenges of the infamous tonkotsu ramen.
Much love,
Jaimee
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