autumn soup in the city.

last weekend, a hamburg friend and i trotted our way to philadelphia on a sunday morning to let our eyes gulp the genetic anomalies on display at the mütter museum. but before that, we downed some brunch at the white dog café in the university city region. 

before my bananas foster stuffed french toast arrived at the table, i sipped spoonfuls of  apple cider pumpkin bisque with its light array of toasted pumpkin seeds and hidden raisins of the white grape variety.

not sweet nor tart but more savory, the contents of this bowl hugged well what hides under my ribcage--that proverbial fist-like mass which best enjoys the good in life through palate persuasions, especially fall finds.