Blowing soup

After my migraine attack last week, my mother was insistent that my body was not healthy enough and those 8 years of not drinking 'tong' to 'bo' (ie. maintain/heal) my health after each menstrual period, she made me a clay pot of 'hak guy' black chicken broth. My mother was always an expert in making broth that was lucent clear, healing and delicious. I tried to make the same concoction in San Francisco with pre-packaged herbs and frozen black chicken but the lucidness and taste was incomparable to my mother's magic touch. She knew the right temperature to allow the soup's contents to simmer, when to lower the fire, the right amount of salt to add to not overpower the chicken, and how to perfectly blow the layer of oil floating atop the bowl of soup leaving you a non-greasy sippable soup. She taught me to tilt my bowl forward so that the top most layer of broth grazes the rim of the bowl, then with one sweeping chin back to forward blow slides the grease off into the sink. My mother is a pro. Blowing soup, it's something i almost forgot to do.