Just when I was feeling optimistic that spring was near, old man winter cackled with glee and decided to make everything white again. Sigh. Soup seemed to be the best way to combat the cold while trying to hold on to my optimism. A beautiful Broccoli soup with Lemon Chive Cream caught my eye over at Orangette, and it appeared to be the perfect accompaniment for our dinner of Poached Salmon with Dijon Cream sauce. I was attracted to the soup not only because of Molly’s always interesting writing and photos, but also for its lack of heavy cream and gobs of yellow cheese. Now I’m not one to knock heavy cream or yellow cheese, don’t get me wrong, but you see there was this one time…

I was a college freshman, new to the world of campus dining and wet behind the ears when it came to identifying dishes that should never touch your tray. It was a cold, winter day, and cheddar broccoli soup sounded like an excellent idea for lunch. I dug my spoon into the Styrofoam bowl of soup and took a bite. The broccoli was far beyond overcooked, and the amount of cream and cheese clogged not only my arteries (I’m sure) but even had a hard time making it down my throat. After suffering through the bowl, I tossed the remains in the trash and made a mental note not to pick that one again. However the real trouble began about an hour later. I was sitting in the middle of my political science class, literally in the middle of the room- with about 30 people around me. The professor was explaining some subject like nuclear proliferation or the Bretton Woods agreement, when I felt my stomach starting to expand. Uh oh. The more I noticed it, the worse it got. Pretty soon I felt like balloons were being shoved into my rib cage from all angles.

This is the part where I should probably mention that I had tiny bit of a crush on the political science teacher. He was young, he was passionate about politics, and he was a dead ringer for Charlie Sheen. (Yes you can laugh all you want. Just try to watch Hot Shots! Part Duex and tell me he isn’t cute.) The last thing I wanted to do was have a gas attack in the middle of a crowded room in front of Charlie Sheen. By nothing short of a miracle I managed to make it until the end of the class before making a mad dash out of the room. However the potential for an embarrassing explosion of epic proportions was so mortifying that I have avoided cream of broccoli soup ever since.

Fortunately Molly’s soup does not have the same effects and instead provides a light and fresh taste of Spring in late Winter. The lemon chive cream topping is bright and delightful. It would make a terrific dip for vegetables on its own but we didn’t end up with any leftovers! So if like me, you suffer from a phobia of broccoli soups, this may be just what the doctor ordered to leave your fears behind and start living again!

Link: Broccoli Soup with Lemon Chive Cream