It’s hard to say what my favorite soup is. It can depend on the weather, the time of the meal, the dinner companions or the ingredients in the refrigerator.
One of my favorite memories is of a family trip to New England when I was 18. My parents, sister and I got in the car in Michigan, and set off for the coast. My dad, born and raised in Massachusetts, is a die-hard fan of clam chowder (New England style, of course). In the Northwest and Midwestern United States, where my dad raised his daughters, TRUE (per Dad), clam chowder is hard to find. Therefore, that two-week trip from Michigan to Maine became a search for the best clam chowder in New England.
I no longer remember where we found it, though I think it was in Boothbay Harbor, Maine (I remember this because of the very attractive college boy/lobster fisherman at the marina, though it’s possible his ruggedly handsome ways may color my memories of what happen in that town). The point is, that trip was one to remember, and the soup search made it that much more enjoyable. Still love a good bowl of clam chowder (always New England style), and it still makes me think of my dad, every time I eat one.