Imagine a bowl the color of late summer, rich orange-red, glossy from olive oil, flecked with green thyme leaves. The aroma is intoxicating — warm garlic, ripe tomatoes, a whisper of herbs. You dip a hunk of baguette into it, the crust soaking up broth, the inside collapsing into tenderness. Maybe you finish with a spoonful of cream stirred in, marbling the soup into silk. It’s simple, sensual, and quietly luxurious.