Watercress soup: the lunch that keeps on giving

I’m normally averse to leftovers: it’s not a trait I like in myself. I’d far rather be able to eat the same thing for days on end, especially when it’s seasonal veg, or an enormous, hearty stew that I’ve spent ages making. It’s a sensible way of cooking: healthy, seasonal, cheap, time-saving. But I’m easily bored, and the best laid plans of mice and men the night before, clingfilmed or tupperwared up, no longer appeal the following lunchtime. I end up parcelling those thoughtful, carefully prepared dishes onto my husband and plumping instead for so-called novelty in the form of toast, or a sandwich.

For some reason, soup is the one dish that doesn’t suffer this fate. This means it’s the one thing I batch cook without immediately slinging in the freezer and forgetting about it. I actually like knowing that there’s a pot of soup in my fridge, that it will punctuate the next few days. It’s that rare sort of dish that is absolutely comforting enough to eat alone in your pyjamas, but elegant enough to serve to an unexpected guest for lunch. I don’t think I could get bored of soup, and there are few things I could say that about, apart from maybe cheese and onion crisps, or cardamom buns, neither of which a balanced diet make.

I’m not prissy about my soup: it needn’t be homemade or fancy. My cupboards are lined with tins of the stuff, and you can tell my mood by whether I pull out a can of lentil and bacon or cream of tomato. But I do find the process of making soup grounding: my soups almost always begin the same way, with onions, celery and potatoes, chopped roughly and sweating gently in butter. The next stages are simple, but predictable: those items sit under a lid, then stock and sometimes milk is added, before the lid is replaced.