The joy of soup

I am a bit drunk, and am currently typing with the non-business ends of two tesco value pencils, one in each hand. It's quite fun. And quicker than you'd think.
We bought the tesco value pencils for the treasure hunt m did for our street fair in may 03, figuring we'd never get any of them back so we didn't want to spend much on them. I seem to remember they were 94p for 20 or something astonishingly cheap like that. And we still have quite a few so they have staying power too.

Tesco Value (I've moved back to typing with fingers so can manage intra-sentence caps) is an interesting sub-brand, and one I have pondered before. One of the Guardian's Guide to Youth columnists has argued that she can't buy it because its packaging is too ugly, but that's just an overpaid media babe talking. Or maybe I'm just getting older and care less about what people see in my basket.

For some things I personally find it unbeatable: salted peanuts (21p for 100g -- blindingly good value, tiny and salty -- almost like a delicacy in this world of the jumbo lo-salt nut); sparkling water (18p for 2 litres and from a real spring not a Dasani-style mains supply, pray, why pay more?); tinned new potatoes (20p a tin and perfect for spanish omelette on a Sunday morning); and my own personal favourite Tesco Value purchase ever, a lemon squeezer for (I think) 49p which is both a joy to behold and dead easy to use.

But for other things, no. No to Tesco Value smoked salmon, in fact to any Tesco Value fish product. No to Tesco Value sanitary towels. No to Tesco Value eggs, think of the hens. No to Tesco Value cheese.

Some things, you get what you pay for. Which (finally) brings me to soup. Soup is, if done well, one of the world's great underrated foodstuffs. But is is so rarely done well. Cup-A-Soup is verging on a crime against humanity, and 'value' tinned and packet soups aren't far behind. Even premium tinned soups (with the honourable exceptions of Heinz Tomato, which is a national institution, and Waitrose French Onion, which is better than I've ever managed myself) are poor man's food. Which is so very wrong, as soup is actually both cheap and easy to make.

But time-consuming, and there's the rub. So the best of all worlds is when someone else makes it fresh for you. This is an idea growing in popularity, and this week I have had fresh home made soup for four lunches out of four. Monday was vegan vegetable and dill at a groovy boho place near Manchester Piccadilly, and definitely the best. Tues-Thurs were from Taylor's deli, newly across the road from work, where the staff are preternaturally cheerful and the soup is delicious but maybe slightly posh. Tues: curried parsnip. Weds: broccoli and watercress. Thurs: Thai mushroom.

It's only matched by home made porridge for breakfast, and I've managed this -- courtesy of lovely oaty boyfriend -- three mornings out of four this week. What more wheat-free culinary delights (in line with bowel regime) could life bring?

joella