Spicy Tomato Soup
My grandmother Oma loved two meals in her final days: cheesy grits and tomato soup. Hot and wholesome, the two liquid meals were all she could stomach. She ate, not for comfort or to mark the time, but to gain strength so that she could continue with chemotherapy.
My relatives and I stood in the kitchen, eating for comfort and to pass the time, and ready and willing to prepare whatever feast she might request. Baby back ribs? Veal? Chicken and dumplings? No. She almost always asked for tomato soup.
When most people see a can of Tomato Soup, they think of Andy Warhol and Post-Modernism. I think of breast cancer and a morphine drip.
But culinary boredom and fiscal responsibility implored me to give the soup another try. As it simmered on my stovetop, I added a sprinkle of chili powder and a dash of crushed red pepper. I’m not dying.
It was good.
— Ashley
