My preferred version of chicken noodle soup can be found not in the pantry, but in Koreatown. Now, don't get me wrong. What I consider to be the traditional American standard (without getting into what American means, let's just use the definition of "if I order it in a diner, I am expecting a bowl of this stuff") can be beautiful and lovely when made at home. But, when I'm weary or recovering from illness, I do not think about making mirepoix. [Sidenote: due to Food Network, I think of Emeril Lagasse when I hear or see "mirepoix." I don't know how many, if any, of his episodes do not include mirepoix.]
Instead, I usually do one of two things: purchase below average soup from the grocery store or pine for Korean food (more times than not, the second one is almost always the case). So, recently, when in need of a restorative meal, I headed to Olympic Noodle. The chicken noodle soup was $8, a respectable bargain, but the best part was the immediate sense of contentment that followed. Happy New Year!
