Comment
on this story

Soup Kitchen
1 Market Square
546-4212

by Les DuLunch

Do one thing, do it well, and you can't go wrong.

Such is the case with the Soup Kitchen, which features eight or so varieties of one of my favorite foods each day.

Some would say that this quintessential comfort food is best enjoyed only when the weather outside is frightful. In fact, without the Soup Kitchen, I probably wouldn't have survived the winter. Flu-ridden, I dimly remember staring balefully out at the gray city from the gray vantage point of my office, before awakening from corporate stupor to forage for a warm bowl of milky New England clam chowder or wonderful chicken Florentine, filled with fat rice grains and strips of tender spinach.

Even now with warmer weather upon us, a rainy Monday like this week's still makes for an ideal soup day. Plus, what with the Bradford pear trees unleashing snow showers of perilous, pollen-laden blossoms, Kleenex is still my constant companion and soup the most palatable meal I can think of.

In chatting with other folks about the Soup Kitchen, I've come up with a mixed bag of opinions. One friend doesn't like the way that a distinctive odor of onion clings to his clothes after each visit, while another commented that the soup tastes scorched from sitting too long in its kettle—issues apparently endemic to the Soup Kitchen's express West location. As in most other things, an urban setting will beat out suburban strip-mall wastelands any day, so it's no surprise that these problems have yet to manifest themselves during my frequent visits to the Market Square location.

I like the Soup Kitchen's egalitarian set-up. Form a line, grab a tray, point to what you want—maybe even sample one or two—and get it quickly. I like the dry-humored ladies who may well serve your bowl with a large side of friendly sass. I like the fact that even though the restaurant is lined with windows, it still somehow seems dim and even sleepy after the lunchtime rush. If it weren't for the straight ladder-back chairs that force diners to perch forward over the bowl, I'd probably slump down for a little afternoon catnap.

Always hot and hearty, the day's selections might include rich barley beef, broccoli cheddar, chunky chicken and rice, can't-go-wrong tomato-based vegetable, earthy ham and bean, and an (admittedly very drab) snow crab. There's never any of that watery Oriental business—let's face it, a cup of miso or wonton soup is like hot tap water poured over a cube of bouillon. Sophistication doesn't rank high either—for a more adventuresome, go-go gourmet version, visit West Towne Mall's tony Soup Heaven where you'll find fresh selections like shrimp alfredo, portobello spinach, or chicken roasted garlic. The Soup Kitchen just traffics in the kinds of soups that would make a typical middle-American mom proud to include in the annual church recipe collection. Even the occasional Soup Kitchen surprise like lemon garden will just contain the light tang of lemon juice to complement its broccoli, carrots, and potatoes instead of an something exotic and foreign element like Thai lemongrass.

Catering to the lowest common denominator, Soup Kitchen tunes its soups to a very low spice frequency. You'll want to go ahead and salt the bowl well before dipping up that first spoonful. Usually this tactic works out alright in the end—a bland selection can easily be remedied by a dash of Tobasco or celery-seed heavy all-spice seasoning—but in instances where spice is an essential element, like the unpleasantly flat potato dill, the Soup Kitchen's light hand proves problematic.

Doing one thing well is usually done by doing it simply and directly; the Soup Kitchen has its basic bases well covered. Take the chili, for example. Made not with crude, coarse kidney beans, but instead with their kinder, gentler cousin, the small red bean, its pitch-perfect amount of heat is tuned so that a liberal shake or two of pepper will yield a nicely spiced taste while providing tasty relief for clogged sinuses. Tri-color peppers or more onion might be helpful additions, but as it is, the chili makes do with an ample supply of tomato. Enjoy it plain, with corn chips and topped with shredded cheddar, or poured over a hot beef tamale in the full-house style.

The Soup Kitchen also works wonders with cream-based potato soups. Cheese potato, garden potato, potato bacon—all are cooked down to that great, slightly grainy consistency that completely removes any edges from what was once a geometric cube of tuber, rendering it as soft and rounded as a pillow.

The Soup Kitchen also scores success in the bread department. Small, individual-sized loaves of freshly baked white, wheat, and sometimes cheese or Italian bread are the perfect companion for soup. Soft-crusted, moist on the inside and large enough to see you through the whole bowl, they're ideal for sopping up what, if anything, remains. The Mexican cornbread—buttery sweet and chock full of corn kernels and little bits of zingy jalapeno—also rocks.

But the best thing about the Soup Kitchen is that you can get half a bowl of one and half of another with bread of choice for the same price as a single bowl ($4.35). And if that's not comforting, I don't know what is.

March 20, 2000 * Vol. 10, No. 13
© 2000 Metro Pulse