More Than Cheap Eats, Portland Soup Carts Soothe, Satiate, and Sometimes Save

I was downtown the other day, steeling myself against the cool air I wasn't quite ready for, and I noticed a man in a suit walking past with a paper soup cup. Then I noticed another, and another. Seriously, there were a lot of soup eaters down there.

And it's no wonder. Is it not autumn's most perfect food? It soothes. It warms. It comforts. The bounty of veggies available in the fall virtually begs to be chopped, mashed, pureed, and reduced into a steaming bowl of goodness. It's also a great option in a down economy. You can have a hearty lunch of soup, usually served with a hunk of bread or crackers, for three or four bucks. A soup lover since childhood, I decided to go out and learn more—to see if there might be a veritable soup culture here in my favorite city.

At first I thought big—who had the best soups around town? Then I remembered where I was—in a town that is serious about its eats—and decided that my quest was way too broad. I thought back to all of those soup-yielding nine-to-fivers, rushing back to their offices. They weren't sitting down at a restaurant to get their soup. It was the cart soups that were saving them from midday hunger.

Taking Diet Into Consideration

I started at my favorite food cart area—around SW Alder and 9th and 10th Avenue (I go there for my favorite liquid in the universe—Spella Caffe)—to see what the soup situation was like. There I met Nancy Ettinger, chef and proprietor of Savor Soup House. Roomy by food cart standards, Ettinger makes some of her soups and other fare right there, though she also has a commercial kitchen. She varies her soups every day, and makes them all—down to the stock—from scratch. She always has a vegan and gluten free option, and serves all soups with a piece of bread. When she told me that I, the gluten-free girl, was going to have a thick slice of New Cascadia bread with my cup of red lentil and chickpea stew, I almost cried. Tearing off a hunk (as far as the many kinds of GF bread I've had, New Cascadia is the best, and closest to the real thing), and sinking it into the thick, hot, and golden concoction, I was in heaven. The stew, featuring a puree of butternut squash, perfumed with an ample amount of saffron, and topped with crushed peanuts and fresh cilantro, was divine. I also tasted the other soup offerings—a creamy potato leek soup, perfectly salted, wonderful pungent leek flavor throughout; a minestrone (she puts the pasta in individual orders, so I could try it before pasta rendered it a no-go for me) that was made hearty with abundant white beans and made otherworldly with smoky Hungarian paprika and the distinct taste of good olive oil; a tomato soup (a favorite of many of her regulars, who pair it with her also popular grilled cheese sandwich) that had the surprising, and delightful taste and fragrance of orange. Savor has only been open since January; Ettinger was ready to get out of the real estate industry and return to her roots in the culinary arts. She prides herself on catering to the needs of people with special dietary restrictions—like those who are gluten-free, vegan, or attempting to lose weight—by offering a variety of dishes. Besides accomplishing those goals in the cart, Ettinger is also a personal chef. Her Savor catering services include creating specialized menus for families or individuals who may not have the time or the culinary prowess to cook for themselves. Her catering endeavors, much like her soup cart endeavors, include a commitment to local produce and options for people with food allergies and other restrictions. Savor soup cart also offers delivery, through Portland Pedal Power. While I stood talking to her, an older couple returned with empty cups to say, "Amazing soup!" A ringing endorsement, and I had to agree.

The Chef's Cart

After my stew (and of course, a latte from Spella), I headed up to SW 4th and College Ave. to Portland Soup Company. I was excited to taste the soup, but first I had to admire the cart. Prior to opening seven months ago, Jeremy Davidson, and a friend decked it out with stained wood, lively paint and paned windows, making it probably the prettiest cart I've ever seen. Its homey exterior is right in alignment with the comforting fare that comes out of it. Davidson, a chef whose most recent experience was with the acclaimed Restaurant Five Oh Three in West Linn, was ready to be on his own, but was well aware of the "outrageous cost of opening a restaurant" in a retail space. He also knew that people all around the city were catching on to the fact that great food can come out of a humble cart. The low-overhead of a cart is allowing young entrepreneurial chefs like Davidson the opportunity to serve their own food, in their own space.

With a menu of soups, sandwiches, salads and sweets that rotate with the seasons, Davidson showcases his culinary expertise using the best of what's locally available. Sold out of two others I could eat, I sampled the tomato reggiano that he says is a favorite of many regulars.

"I had a few pissed off people when I didn't serve it on those 100+ degree days in the summer," Davidson laughs. It was delicious—creamy with great cheese flavor and a hint of spice. I smartly brought a sampler-in-crime with me, for just such a gluten-full emergency, who willingly tasted the Wisconsin white cheddar soup made with Hub lager.

"Cheesy goodness," claimed my assistant. "Practically fondue."

Next he sampled the sweet Italian sausage soup with Brussels sprouts and baby red potatoes, and was impressed by the sheer volume of meat—sweet with a tinge of heat, swimming in a salty broth. "Mmmmm," my assistant uttered, eyes closed. I took it as a good sign.

Several students were among the people who visited the cart while we were there. With soups and sandwiches at $4 and $6 each (cup/half sandwich, bowl/full sandwich respectively), tasty, nutritional, and fulfilling meals can be afforded by even those on a student's budget. In addition to the cart, Portland Soup Company also caters events. Davidson does hope to someday open his own restaurant, but until that day, is quite at home in his little wood-clad cart.

A Soup Cart Pioneer

Two soups stops a day is about my limit, so the next day I headed down to the carts on SW 5th and Stark to check out Spoons Soup Cart. Spoons has been part of this swath of food carts (barring a short stint in Pioneer Square) for seven years, which is close to forever by food cart standards. Derek Morse, the unassuming owner and chef behind the soups, salads, and wraps, was tired of the restaurant business and associated lifestyle and wanted a change. Hailing from a family of entrepreneurs, he dreamed of being his own boss, and conducting business on his own terms. A soup cart was a perfect way to balance doing what he loved to do without letting it completely consume his time and life.

"I like to keep it simple. I get to interact with people," Morse says of the pros of owning a cart. He says he knows the costs associated with opening a restaurant and just isn't interested. The cons of working out of a cart—dealing with the weather, the noise of the street, and the occasional problem with electricity and plumbing associated with their rustic set-up—are outweighed by the positive aspects for Morse. He changes his soups everyday, and loves to get creative with combinations. My favorite sample was his Thai coconut chicken soup, loaded with shredded meat, hunks of ginger, tomatoes and mushrooms over rice noodles. Sweet and spicy, it warmed me every step of its journey down to my belly. Wonderful. Though some cart vendors seem to dream of the day they can have a restaurant, Morse is perfectly happy where he is.

Soup With a Mission

My final stop brought me to the other side of the river, to the brand-new Mississippi Marketplace and Ladles—a soup stand with a clearly defined purpose. Long-time friends and Wisconsin expatriates, Adam Horbinski and Julian Kegel wanted to combine something they loved (cooking) with their social and environmental responsibility beliefs. Creating soups from locally grown organic produce is only the beginning. The duo donates 10% of their profits to local non-profits, such as Sisters of the Road and p:ear. Additionally, they provide p:ear with 2 gallons of soup bi-monthly. They are also collaborating with p:ear at an upcoming fundraising event slated for December 5th.

Horbinski tells me that, more than anything, their goal is to be an integral part of the Boise-Eliot neighborhood, not only offering a great product to neighbors and visitors to the neighborhood, but also by being an active and positive part of the community in general. One way they are trying to help is through their implementation of the nationally recognized Empty Bowls program. They collaborate with local potters who create beautiful bowls, ranging in price from $25-$35. Interestingly, Horbinski's and Kegel's home town of Milwaukee claims to host the largest Empty Bowls event in the nation, which is one of the reasons they thought to bring such a program here.

"We want this to be a long-term project, so in order to keep it viable, we've decided to reimburse the artists for their materials," Horbinski tells me. The material costs add up to only between $3 and $5. Besides the cost of materials, the entire cost will go to hunger relief. While they set up a system to be able to accept the donations for the Boise-Eliot neighborhood, the proceeds from bowls are going to support p:ear. Their mission is to find other ways to support hunger relief efforts as well.

"We're in the process of finding out how we can be eligible to accept food stamps," Horbinski tells me. "We want good, nutritious food to be available to everyone."

Theirs is an ambitious vision, but they've already sold out of their first set of bowls, and their cart (actually a table, but surrounded by carts, I thought they still fit the criteria) is attracting a lot of attention. Their social and environmental efforts aside, I wanted to see if the soup was as good as their mission. There are choices for both meat-eaters and vegetarians, and, on the day that I visited, all soups but one (the Wisconsin Beer cheese) were gluten free. The soups were delicious—a sweet butternut squash, a red lentil with the exotic tastes of cardamom, ginger, and cinnamon blended with the pleasing bite of chilis, and a Tuscan tomato—soupy, chunky, loaded with white beans, collard greens and basil—that made me feel deeply sad that tomato season was coming to an end. The real surprise came when Horbinski introduced me to Aji, a Peruvian condiment made from herbs, citrus, and peppers. It looked like chimichurri, without the slick of oil, but tasted completely different. While traveling in South America, Horbinski discovered the sauce and was immediately hooked. He told me to try each of the soups, then taste them with a dollop of Aji swirled in. Like I said, the soups were truly delicious on their own, but the Aji expanded the taste with a kiss of freshness and a tiny kick of super flavorful peppers. I took a jar with me, so that I could be sure that I was as much in love with the taste as I thought. Horbinski told me that the preservative-free Aji could last in the fridge for up to 2 weeks, but he doubted it would last one—he claimed it was that good. My husband took one look at the jar and told me that it would be impossible to finish it in two weeks.

At home I used Aji in my chicken soup, as a topping on poached eggs for breakfast, spooned over tamales, poured atop steamed Halibut. The jar made it almost a week. It is divine.

Included with each jar of Ladles soup is a small instruction tag. On the back of each tag is a short excerpt from the Stone Soup fable (there are ten different excerpts in all). Horbinski explains that the fable relates closely to their mission.

"The Stone Soup story essentially tells the tale of what we want to accomplish and where our future efforts will lie. [The idea of] community cohesion and empowerment."

My soup journey ended there, at a place that made me feel good, not only in the way I expected (warmed and sated), but also by reminding me that there are people who see the big picture, and don't separate that out from the way they make their living. It was inspiring.

Regardless of whether they are happy where they are, dreaming of restaurant ownership, or using soup to forward a personal mission, the soup carts I visited offer a delicious, healthy, and inexpensive meal, and sometimes more. The comfort it brings may be more far reaching than you'd expect.

Resource List

Savor Soup House
1003 SW Alder
503.750.5634
savorsouphouse.com

Portland Soup Company
S.W. Fourth and College
541.968.1230

Spoons Soup Company
SW 5th & Oak
503.522.3576
spoonson5th.com

Ladles
at Mississippi Marketplace
4237 N. Mississippi
503.899.7068
ladlespdx.com