Creamy Filipino Sopas with speck, bratwurst, pasta, carrots, spring onions, eggs, and chicken stock for cold winter days. A bowl of creamy soup, snow falling hard outside, and comfort carried by hand through winter streets. #sopas
It is dead winter here in Switzerland. The kind of winter that does not ease you into the cold but throws you straight into it. Snow falls thick and steady, blanketing everything in white, muting sounds, slowing the world down. Every day, I walk through it to visit my mum in the hospital. Thankfully, the hospital is only about a 15-minute walk from her house, but that still means trudging through snow daily, boots crunching, breath fogging up the air.
Strangely, I am enjoying it.
This kind of winter is new to me. New Zealand winters are cold, yes, but not like this. There is something almost cinematic about carrying a pot of soup through falling snow, something I never imagined doing, let alone photographing. And yet, here I am, even taking a photo of Sopas sitting in the snow, steam rising against a frozen backdrop. That alone makes this dish special. It is something I have never done before.
Running Out of Ideas, Finding Comfort Instead
Some days, creativity runs low. When most of the dishes my mum asks for are soups and Filipino comfort food like sinigang, tinola, nilaga, and pesa, you eventually reach a point where you ask yourself what else you can make that still feels familiar.
Today’s Sopas came from leftovers. Leftover speck. Leftover bratwurst. Leftover cream. Leftover pasta, both macaroni and rigatoni. A carrot, spring onions, eggs, and chicken stock. Nothing planned, nothing special on paper, but everything necessary to create comfort.
Sopas has always been that dish for me. The Filipino equivalent of chicken noodle soup. The one you crave when you are sick, tired, or emotionally drained. And in this weather, with snow piling up outside, it felt like the most natural thing to cook.
What Sopas Means in Filipino Cooking
Filipino Sopas is not about precision. It is about care. Traditionally, it is a creamy chicken macaroni soup made with evaporated milk, vegetables, and whatever protein the household has on hand. It shows up on rainy mornings, late nights, and whenever someone in the house needs something warm and gentle.
The name comes from the Spanish word sopa, meaning soup, but the dish itself is a product of adaptation. During the American colonial period, American-style chicken noodle soup and pasta became accessible in the Philippines. Filipinos took that idea and transformed it, adding milk, local seasonings, and whatever ingredients made sense at home.
Over time, Sopas became uniquely Filipino. Pale, creamy, filling, and deeply comforting.
Why This Version Works
This version is far from traditional, but it stays true to the soul of Sopas. Speck brings smokiness and depth that replaces the usual chicken fat. Bratwurst adds body and seasoning, much like hotdogs or Vienna sausages would back home. The mix of macaroni and rigatoni gives texture and heft, turning the soup into something truly filling.
Using cream instead of evaporated milk was not intentional at first, but it worked beautifully. The result is rich without being heavy, perfect for cold weather and tired bodies.
I seasoned carefully. Speck is already salty, so restraint mattered. This was not a soup meant to impress. It was meant to comfort.
Winter, Walking, and Carrying Soup
Walking through thick snow every day has become part of my routine now. It is cold, yes, but there is also something grounding about it. Each step feels deliberate. Each walk feels purposeful. Carrying Sopas through winter streets feels almost symbolic, like bringing warmth into a place that desperately needs it.
Taking a photo of Sopas in the snow felt oddly emotional. A Filipino comfort soup, cooked with European ingredients, photographed in a Swiss winter. It captures exactly where I am right now, physically, and emotionally.
A Bowl Made From What Remains
This speck and bratwurst Sopas exists because of limitation, necessity, and care. It is proof that comfort food does not need perfection or tradition to be meaningful. Sometimes, it just needs warmth, familiarity, and intention.
In this kind of weather, with snow falling endlessly and days feeling heavy, Sopas is exactly the kind of food you want. Something creamy, soft, and reassuring. Something that reminds you that even in the coldest places, comfort can still be made.
I am glad you are enjoying the winter – I imagine if it were my first, I would, too. I grew up with that kind of weather in the U.S. and lived in it for 47 years before moving to the desert. I have had enough. ;-)
What I don’t think I could have enough of is this sopas! While I don’t have any of those things “leftover,” they are all easily purchased. Saving the recipe to make soon.
I am glad you are enjoying the winter – I imagine if it were my first, I would, too. I grew up with that kind of weather in the U.S. and lived in it for 47 years before moving to the desert. I have had enough. ;-)
What I don’t think I could have enough of is this sopas! While I don’t have any of those things “leftover,” they are all easily purchased. Saving the recipe to make soon.
Raymund, what a great twist on sopas! I love the idea of adding speck and bratwurst for extra smoky flavour. This sounds so comforting and hearty.
This does look like perfect comfort food! And such a beautiful image of you carrying a steaming pot through the snowy streets…