Big Kahuna Burger

I arrived home tonight, after a long cold gray day, to the warm and unmistakably inviting smell of homemade chicken soup.

Carrots and onions, simmering in a tall pot with celery and rice. Chunks of roasted chicken swam in the current of hot broth. There were biscuits too, with soft butter and honey. It was a perfect meal, punctuated by the bright fire in the fireplace and the cold Autumn rain slapping the windows outside.

I slurped the soup from the big spoon, and my thoughts wandered, as they always do when I eat soup, to my favorite scene from my favorite movie. Angel Eyes walks into the man's house. He is going to kill the man, but first, he's going to eat the man's soup. He sits at the rough-hewn peasant table and pulls the wooden bowl close. The soup eating is noisy and sloppy. The conversation dodges around a mysterious bag of gold.

Once fed, Angel Eyes kills the man, and the man's swarthy son, in cold blood. Of the three titular characters, Angel Eyes is established in that moment as the "Bad."

It's a good movie.

It was good soup.