If I were a poet, I’d most surely have to write an ode to soup. It’s somewhat like a sandwich, in the sense that just about anything goes (to an extent), but whereas the ingredients of a sandwich remain the same whether they’re between bread or not, in soup, even the simplest ingredients have the opportunity to rise to great heights.

Furthermore, soup-making allows for quite a bit of leeway, meaning that it’s totally possible to make a delicious soup without really paying much attention to a recipe. Soup welcomes substitutions and additions and, perhaps more than any other culinary creation, can be tasted and tweaked throughout its development, until it’s just the way you like it. How many images do you suppose we’ve seen in our lifetime of just this – the cook tasting the soup – to illustrate my point?

Over the years, I’ve made many a soup, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the tastiest ones all begin the same way. Quite simply, a small amount of fat (I use olive oil) is warmed in a large, wide pot to which I add chopped onions and garlic, and any herbs I want to use (bay leaf, rosemary, thyme, etc.). If carrots or celery are to be included, I add them (chopped), as well. For the next 10 minutes, these oh-so-humble vegetables and herbs will undergo a transformation. As the onion browns, so, too, will it sweeten, while the hot oil coaxes out the herbs’ essence. By patiently moving these ingredients around over medium heat until they’re visibly golden, you’ll have set the stage for a show-stopping soup.

Another element that can make a soup extra special is homemade stock, though if you go through the process listed above, you can get away with adding water (and a bit of salt) in place of stock and still expect satisfactory results. Deborah Madison, one of my favorite cookbook authors, devotes seven entire pages to soup stocks in one of her books. She confesses that you can, of course, buy stock off the grocery shelf, but beware of their sodium content. Since it takes very little effort to make the equivalent of two containers of soup stock (2 quarts), you really may as well. The taste will be superior and you’ll feel like you’ve accomplished something. Here are instructions for a basic vegetable stock:

Basic Vegetable Stock

1 large onion

2 large carrots

2 celery ribs, including a few leaves

1 tablespoon olive oil

8 smashed garlic cloves

A few stems each of fresh parsley and thyme

2 bay leaves

Salt

Chop vegetables into 1-inch chunks. Heat oil in soup pot and add the vegetables and herbs. Cook over high heat for 5-10 minutes, stirring frequently. Add 1-2 teaspoons salt and 2 quarts water. Bring to a boil, then lower heat and simmer, uncovered, for 30 minutes. Strain broth and allow to cool before storing.

By all means, if you roast a chicken or turkey, save the bones and add them with the water in the above instructions to make chicken or turkey stock. If you’re vegetarian or are trying to cut out meat, try adding 1-2 tablespoons of nutritional yeast to the hot oil/vegetable mixture to give your stock a meaty flavor. Again, stock, like soup itself, welcomes improvisation. Just steer clear of crucifers (cabbages, broccoli, cauliflower, turnips, and rutabagas) as they’ll make the broth bitter.

I’m doubtful that any professional chefs are reading this, but I feel certain that if one did, she or he would scoff at this piece about soup had it no mention of that favored component of richness and flavor: Cream. While it’s true that the best soup you’ve ever tasted almost certainly had a generous dosing of the stuff, you must know that you’ll sabotage your New Year efforts related to healthy eating if you allow a container of heavy cream into your home.

Rest assured that it’s not necessary. By replacing cream with a combination of non-fat or low-fat milk and a small amount of whole milk or half and half, you’ll spare yourself a good deal of saturated fat. Other strategies, like steeping herbs in skim milk, or stirring in plain yogurt or light sour cream, will impart a taste similar enough to cream.

One final cheer for soup, besides its obvious warmth (gazpacho notwithstanding), is that it capitalizes on what’s in season and can be the solution to what to do with a whole lotta somethin’. In my most recent case, this was carrots. For that matter, it’s often my answer to what to eat when there’s seemingly nothing to eat (I make minestrone with whatever bits and pieces I can unearth from the greenhouse and the far corners of the fridge/freezer). It also pairs perfectly, of course, with bread – another of my most favorite foods.

It deserves an ode, but a haiku will have to do . . .

Scraping of brown bits

Fragrant steam greets my nostrils

Liquid splendor. Yum.