Tomato Bisque at a Rest Stop
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As much as I’d love for every travel meal to be a culinary work of art, the truth is that feeding myself on the road is sometimes… less than elegant.
There are days when we pull into a scenic spot and Shane breaks out the tabletop grill and cooks up something that looks like a proper meal. But there are also days like this one—drizzly, gray, and probably colder than either of us wanted to admit—when lunch is a bowl of tomato bisque balanced under the steering wheel and a slice of gluten-free bread with butter.
The soup had been heating in my Hot Logic food warmer while we drove. When we pulled into the rest area, it was hot and ready to eat.
Shane had chili, and I had tomato bisque.
That might not sound like a big deal, but it actually is. Chili usually has beans in it, and beans are something I can’t eat. One of the reasons I prep meals ahead of time and freeze them in portions is so we can each have something that works for us without making travel complicated.
On this particular day, it also meant we both got soup—which felt like the perfect thing on a rainy, chilly afternoon.
If you look closely at the photo, you might notice there isn’t a lot of space between me and that steering wheel. And yet, somehow, I managed to eat soup there. Carefully. Very carefully.
A rest area picnic table was technically available, but the drizzle had other ideas, so the Jeep became our dining room. The soup was hot, the bread was buttery, and honestly, it was exactly what I needed.
Travel cooking doesn’t always look like a magazine spread. Sometimes it’s a grill and a campsite. Sometimes it’s a picnic table with a view. And sometimes it’s soup on your lap while you sit in the driver’s seat of a Jeep at a rest stop.
And that’s okay.
Because when restaurants aren’t safe, or when your dietary restrictions make travel feel impossible, a simple meal like this can mean the difference between going hungry and continuing the adventure.
After we finished eating, the aftermath looked about like you’d expect: containers on the dash, crumbs everywhere, and—if you look closely—a stick of butter riding shotgun.
Before we hit the road again, I wiped out the containers with a paper towel and gave them a quick spray with a little vinegar-and-water mixture I keep in the pantry box. It’s not a full wash, but it keeps things from getting gross until we can properly clean everything later.
Is it glamorous? Not even a little.
But it works. And sometimes, that’s more than enough.