Cold weather makes me crave for hot and steamy soup. It reminds me of Shanghai when my mom always prepared a pot of soup for dinner. In the dining room, a wide floor length glass opens over looks a river and a row of parasol trees (梧桐). I would sip my bowl of soup and watch the leaves roll in the coooold air. I missed home. I missed how it smelled like dinner after school. I missed how the family would sit around a large round table and share stories of the day. A simple bowl of soup can bring up so much memory. Now that the bowl is empty, it reminds me how precious those memories are.
so sentimental...but the soup looks so good
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