One of the best things for lifting deflated spirits is a deep bowl of steaming, restorative soup – perfect for warming the places your old woolly jumper can’t reach. I love the romance and cosiness of creamy European soups drunk straight out of a mug around a fire in November, but in the icy tundra that is January I need something with more heat and intensity, something sustaining, spicy, gutsy and textured, so that I need a fork or chopsticks to eat it, rather than just a spoon. These punchy soups are simply rapture in a bowl, and make for extremely satisfying slurping.
