My college roommate, Julie, used to gauge my feelings by what I was whipping up in the kitchen.
Tuna noodle casserole was a quick and thrifty dish signifying broke but determined. Blueberry coffee cake signaled adventurous, yet grounded. Soup, however, was a loaded proposition.
Soup made her ask: “What happened?” or “Who broke up with whom?” or “So your term paper’s due tomorrow?”