After all, we host our annual Soup Nights. And we've even been featured in a BOOK about Soup Nights.
Well, I've also got a thing about novels. And writers.
I respect them so much. After all, it takes a great deal of imagination and talent to create characters that seem real to the reader and a storyline that makes someone want to keep reading.
So, it's kind of interesting that -- few weeks ago -- we happened to connect with an author who wrote a novel that revolves around soup.
Well, kind of.
The name of the book is Ithaca -- and each of the chapters in the book has a "soup" themed title, which corresponds to the various dishes that the main character, Daisy, serves during her weekly Wednesday night dinners.
We love the plot description that Janet Sketchly gives over at GoodReads:
Ithaca is a coming-of-age story—for a 59-year-old woman. Daisy Turner's husband, Arthur, was a professor at Cornell University. She typed his notes and kept his home. And made soup for a crowd every Wednesday.
They married young, and Daisy found fulfillment as a wife and mother. Now her son works overseas, and she's a widow. And most of her friends are really Arthur's friends.The book is about finding identity after experiencing loss. And it's something each one of us can probably relate to on one level or another.
She finds herself developing a friendship with a man who is slowly losing his wife to illness, and with a young woman who's an environmental activist. Daisy surprises herself—and her son—by signing up for a university course to learn about fracking. She doesn't know what it is, but the protest signs are everywhere, and she'd like to learn.
If you're interested, we noticed you can get a copy of Ithaca for Kindle right now on Amazon for $3.19 (and no, we don't get paid anything if you buy it). But, if you're more of a hard-copy sortofa person, you should stay tuned.
We're actually going to be doing a giveaway of the book over the weekend. But, for now, we'll leave you with this excerpt where Daisy talks about her Wednesday night soup suppers:
I should explain about Wednesday nights. It started when Arthur was new at the university, new and assigned grad students. It had been my idea for him to get to know his students outside of school, off campus. I had suggested they come over for supper. And so they did and so they devoured the food I made them. And no one suspected how young I was. We invited them back and soon it became a standing date in our calendar. They brought their girlfriends and then their wives. Sometimes Arthur’s colleagues would come too. When Nick was a toddler, he loved having the students over, loved the energy of the house.
Eventually it drifted away from any affiliation with the school and it just became Wednesday night. I made pots and pots of soup, a different kind each week. I stocked up on bowls and spoons at garage sales and estate sales, mix-matched bowls. You might get a bone china bowl or a wobbly earthenware bowl made in someone’s pottery craze.