Tomato soup

 I know this seems to be an odd thing to blog about but when I think of a favourite childhood meal, it’s always this one that comes to mind first.

I’m about 5 or 6 years old and go to Kensington Ridge primary school in my checked pink and white uniform dress that has a matching belt fitted through the loops in the waist. Black buckled school shoes and short white socks complete the outfit.

After school I go to my grans house next door to our house and go up her stairs into the entrance hall and down the red Persian looking carpeted passage into the kitchen. A big wooden table is on the one side of the room and square checkered tiles of red and turquoise glitter on the floor. In the white cabinets I recall a tin of Pawmag? I think it was blue and white and helped with acid, I’ll google it. Strange thing to remember, I don’t ever recall ever having any.

Found this on google!

On the table would be a large cream coloured soup bowl with high rims and the outer rim had little pink flowers with greenery. Inside the bowl would be my beloved tomato soup, rich and glistening and a swirl of cream in the center of the bowl. On a side plate, white sliced bread or toast cut up into soldiers to eat with the soup. I can go right back to that time in an instant when I eat tomato soup. 

These days, the easiest version comes in a plastic container from Woolworths, but the feeling it evokes is just the same.

I have lots of photos of tomato soup on my phone because a friend of mine Peter, also loves the tomato soup served with a grilled cheese that you get at our Mugg and Bean restaurants in South Africa and whenever either of us order this, we send each other a photo. It’s a nice tradition that reminds me of favourite childhood moments and how they are woven into modern memories and friendships.