Monday morning’s round of questions is universally the same no matter where in the world you work. So when asked, “What did you do this weekend?” I chirped, “I went to the Soup Festival in Mies.” And, the response I got was, “That’s just so Swiss!”
I hadn’t thought of a Soup Festival as a national stereotype for the Swiss. Maybe they are obsessed with punctuality; eat lots of cheeses and chocolate, but soup? Whatever.
The invitation to the Mies Community Soup Festival came as a flyer in our mailbox. Neon colored, laminated reminders of the event appeared around the Mies train. How could anyone in this town forget to attend? Ed and I took the invitation seriously as new residents and decided to attend.
Under a huge white tent in front of the Town Hall, propane burners fired the pots of simmering soups. Cooks of all ages stirred, tasted, added a pinch of spice, and stirred some more. The mix of aromas – garlic, pumpkin, and more -filled the tent. This was a serious competition. And, at the appointed hour, each entrant in the Soup Festival spooned their special soup into a bowl. Then, they placed the bowl in the assigned numbered grid amid their own touch of a decorative place setting. These perfect presentations could have been on the cover of Bon Appétit Magazine.
An official team of judges sampled and voted in serious secrecy. Then, they began to handout ballots for the People’s Choice awards. We could try as many soups as we wanted. Orderly lines formed and generous ladles of soup were distributed. I noticed Ed going back for a few extra ladles of his favorites. “Just to be sure before I cast my vote,” he claimed in defense. I was more discrete doing the same. When we finally cast our ballots, we were full!
So if in fact a Soup Festival is “so Swiss”, I say in response, “Yummy!”
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