Split Pea Soup

I was 18 years old when I worked in the Classical Music Department at the now-closed Tower Records in Greenwich Village. My friends all worked there, too, and every day was a great time. My favorite moments were late nights playing Braham’s German Requiem and Strauss’ Alpine Symphony at full volume and standing underneath the speakers to feel the waterfall of music rushing down all around me. Lunchtime on minimum wage salary usually meant a bowl of split pea soup swimming with crunchy fried croutons from Cozy Soup and Burger. This is Good food – yes, with a capital “G” just like God. Good food, for me at least, is a spiritual experience.

I have no memory of any other pea soup before those bowls at Cozy. Maybe I never had it, and if I did, it never meant anything to me. Like a vessel of green love, you don’t eat the soup for nutrition or for warmth, you eat it because it is soul-satisfying. It is Good food, and when you eat it, you are Good. Fourteen years later, on a cold January day, I went back. Sitting alone at the counter in anticipation, I waited for my little bowl of warm heaven to arrive. With the first spoonful, I was greeted with the memories of lunches long ago and people long forgotten. I thanked the manager on the way out for not changing the recipe in all these years, and left with the satisfaction of having a nice visit with an old friend.