October in Savannah may well be one of the best-kept travelers’ secrets in America. Temperatures ease and the humidity lets up, giving us days that are mostly mild and sunny, and evenings that are cool but not chilly—perfect for long evening walks and for sleeping with the windows open.

After a week of days like that, dawn came this morning with a steady rain tap-dancing on the back porch roof and leaves of the big pecan tree outside my office window. We’ve mostly dried out from the torrential downpours of a week ago, so the cool, damp air is a welcome change.

For cooks, days like this are the perfect time to be in the kitchen, especially if there are plenty of windows to let in the cool, rain-washed air. You won’t want to make candy, of course, but there are plenty of other good things to cook, and it’s the perfect weather for pulling out the soup kettle.

It doesn’t much matter to me what kind of soup it is: it can be hearty chicken with egg noodles or matzo balls, thick vegetable beef, spicy chili, Scotch Broth, or fish and seafood chowders, or it can be a more suave and subtly elegant bisque, clear consommé, cream, or puree.

Regardless of the soup, the one thing they all need, aside from the right weather and good ingredients, is a good base. We all use canned and jarred broth and stock on occasion, and doing so is not going to spoil the soup or bring the food police down on your head, but there is nothing to compare with a soup or stew made with good homemade stock or broth.

I’m always surprised by the number of cooks who have never in their lives made their own. Yes, it does take a long time and probably costs a little more than the packaged stuff, but the time it takes is pretty much on its own, the difference in cost is negligible, and no other job in the kitchen has a greater return for so little effort.

Putting it together takes only minutes, and, once the pot starts its simmer, it requires almost nothing from the cook beyond making sure it never boils. You don’t even stir it: in fact, this is one time when stirring the pot is detrimental to the end result. It also fills the house with a wonderful aroma that peaks appetites and inspires even the most lackluster cook to get into the kitchen and do things.

Start with a pound of meaty chicken or beef bones (or a whole chicken if you are splurging) for every quart of liquid. A couple of chicken feet added to chicken broth lend wonderful body, a couple of ounces of country ham (about half a standard slice) gives extra depth of flavor to beef.

If you want a richer, darker stock, either brown the bones and scraps in a 450° F. oven for about half an hour, or for beef, put the bones, ham, and a sliced onion in a heavy-bottomed stockpot, cover, and let it slowly sweat over low heat until the juices are first drawn from the meat and then reduced to a glaze, about an hour.

Then you just add a couple of sliced onions and carrots (I use 3 carrots for chicken), and a leafy stalk of celery, sliced but with the leafy top left whole, 2 thick slices of fresh gingerroot, and a quart of water for every pound of meat and bones. Turn on the heat to low and while it’s coming to a simmer, tie a spoonful of peppercorns, a couple of whole cloves, a large sprig of thyme (and sage if you are doing chicken), a few parsley stems, and a bay leaf into a double-folded square of cheesecloth or a large tea ball. Add that and a small handful of salt to the pot as it begins simmering. Skim off the foam as it rises, then set the lid askew over it, regulate the heat to the barest possible simmer, and walk away. Let it simmer very slowly for at least 2 hours.

There is a technical difference between stock and broth: stock is usually less seasoned, and is mostly the essence of the meat from which it is made; broth is usually highly seasoned and is sometimes based on the cooking liquid from poaching a chicken or piece of beef. For most soups, it won't much matter which you use.

Once you’ve made your own, you probably won’t stop using canned broth and stock, but you will never be quite as satisfied with them after that.

There is no one right pot for this job. As long as it has a thick, heavy bottom, any large non-reactive pot will do--enameled steel or iron, stainless steel with an aluminum or copper core, or stainless or tin-lined copper. This is no time, however, to be cheap: an inexpensive stock pot with a thin bottom may seem like a bargain, but when you start throwing out scorched broth, soup, and stew, you'll start to realize the real value of spending more for a heavy, better made pot.