Dill soup? You mean a jar of pickles. In my family, my grandmother has a traditional meal, my favorite, dill soup. It’s a combination of cream, potatoes, egg, vinegar and yes, dill weed! This classic feel good is my ultimate go to whether it is 95 and sunny or pouring rain and 45.
I’ve been known to be a bit of a whore, (can I say that?), about this delicacy. What most people don’t understand is that it’s not just a meal that I request from my grandma every time, literally EVERY TIME, I visit her house. It is a bowl full of memories.
Recently, Grandma Carol turned 80. It was during the COVID-19 scare, so we were unable to throw a big celebration. A parade of cars led by Uncle Orv in the firetruck and Red Hatters at the caboose surprised the mother of 6 as we drove past her house with horns and polka music blaring. Heartfelt is a good description. While it was pouring rain, it was at this moment when the window wipers were on full blast that I realized I have a special family. I have memories with several cousins, favors from aunts and uncles and a Mom who has provided absolutely everything for me. I live in a rare sitcom. My coworkers tease about the abundance of “real” cousins I have and stay in contact with. Not everyone is provided with extended family who can sit down at a dinner table and talk to each other. Just talk. It’s such a comforting moment, with all the hustle and bustle in the world, paired with a comforting meal.
The smell of dill reminds me of my father’s garden when I was younger. The potent vinegar in my nostrils focuses the picture on Uncle Whitey or Mom pickling asparagus. The potatoes fetched from the basement reminds me of the grandfather I never met. I’m not sure why. The eggs (typically used in baking) break into a memory of Lunch Lady of the Year, Uncle Orv. The simple garnish of salt and pepper sprinkles every family gathering onto the plate whether it is Christmas, Thanksgiving or Labor Day. We don’t skimp out on meals, especially with Aunt Barb or Uncle Tony making a Walmart run. I’d say dill soup is in close contention with Aunt Brenda and Uncle Mike’s taco dip. Insert mouth waters here!
What’s your comfort food? What memories does that meal recycle in your mind? It’s okay to break that diet for a moment to check in on your mental health, to replay “the good ol’ days.” Because once a person is gone, a recipe, along with memories, is all you will have.
See you at the stovetop going back for my second helping of dill soup.
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