Ben and I clicked from day one. We met at high school. He was one of the kids that came from all over the country to the boarding school. On weekends he would go to his parents’ home in another city. After quite a few attempts at persuasion and pleas, my parents agreed to let me go to Ben’s for a weekend. “Do you eat matzo balls at shabbat dinner?”
"The soup of all soups,” that’s how my dad used to call the harira soup. “Did grandpa really say that?” asks my younger son, “not really” I answer, “it’s my take on his his words, but that’s what he meant”. In my childhood home, soup was a must at every dinner,
There are people that when you tell them that there’s kubbeh soup for dinner, immediately you see a craving look in their eyes, and you can almost hear their stomach rumbling. One of these people is my better half
These days, as the sky gets darker, the wind changes from refreshing to cooling, and a colorful carpet of leaves covers the back yard, the dish I really want to have is a steaming bowl of soup. Split pea, lentil, meat, it really doesn’t matter, as long as it’s a rich, thick soup that warms you up and fills you with pure pleasure.