The idea seemed simple enough: open a coffee shop, and offer a daily soup with freshly baked bread for lunch. In the chaos of the weeks before the grand opening, however, I saw myself for what I really was-a baker who mistakenly thought he could throw together a soup in between mixing up muffins, shaping loaves of bread and pulling scones out of the oven.

In a small Hoosier town where people were puzzling over the article in the local newspaper about the new espresso bar, wondering how to pronounce the word barista, I was beginning to see that the shop couldn't rely solely on coffee to bring in customers. We were going to need better soup than whatever the baker could throw together.

That's when Katie showed up. In her late-twenties and wearing stylish glasses, she introduced herself as a full-time mother of three from down the street. As we sat down in the midst of the chaos of the soon-to-open shop, Katie was calm and soft spoken. She mentioned some cooking experience and wondered if we were looking for anyone to help out for a few hours a week. I asked, "Do you make soup?" The next day she brought over some Cream of Wild Mushroom to sample-caramelized wild mushrooms simmered in a homemade vegetable-mushroom stock with cream, white wine and fresh thyme. My mouth watered. She was hired.