SLOUP #23: Soup Memories from Clara Moore's Sloup

Pulling up a bale of hay at Moonlight Farm. Everyone bundled up against the cold at their backs, the raging fire in their faces, reading proposals by firelight. Fishing bread out of a garbage bag and spreading it with beautiful hand-churned butter, and passing a bottle of whiskey around to warm our collective hearts.

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While out of town singing for Tulsa Opera, I home-stayed with a lovely local couple. I made fast friends with my house mother, Gina, who treated me like an old family lovey. She loved to cook and spoil me with frequent tea. One day after a particularly long and grueling rehearsal, I came home to theeee most delicious smelling house. Gina was making pisole — a Hispanic soup with fresh local pork, hominy, home-made stock and fresh herbs. Ate 3 bowls while she listened to my woes. Will never forget it’s breath—taking savory comfort. Perfect soup.

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Boston unexpectedly on my birthday. I’m gonna have clam chowder on the ocean, I vow. Subway to bus to… shit, I was on a school bus for a while… dropped off on a little street w/ black boulders & crashing waves at the end. Warm café, window booth, light getting long. Bowl clam chowder, a cup of coffee and water w/ no ice please. “Tues & Thurs —today’s vegetable beef.” That’ll do.

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Every summer, my parents and I stayed in a little fishing village for two weeks in the Keys. My mom would make and freeze enough conch chowder to have for lunch every day and we’d drive it down in a big cooler.

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My favorite Sloup memory is hosting a Sloup, duh, because it was tons of fun! That day in June is my fav. soup memory too because Holly Fan made a black bean thing with LOTS-O-FIXINS and fixins are fun & good. Plus being a wee part of Sloup from the start makes me want to, you know, be a part of it all the time! Cheesy!

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My 1st sloup. The urban café. Danny and I were wearing yellow. Tomato basil and too much bread.