The Case Against Soup

My reaction after eating soup. Photo by: Graeme Maclean///CC Flickr

Soup is rarely on the menu for Austen Browne. I don’t know whether it’s the broth, either scorching like lava to the touch or ice cold, or the fact that it just doesn’t fill me up, but soup was eliminated from my food pyramid long ago. The only time I dare drown my taste buds in the flavorless mess of…..whatever the heck broth is composed of, is when I am running a 105 degree fever and feel like I’m on my death bed. Only then will I begrudgingly try to slurp down the chicken noodle abomination they call soup. It’s like that gross grape flavored cough syrup your mom always tried to force down your throat as a child. I will deny it, even in the biggest emergencies, until my life is hanging on by a mere thread and I have to have it to avoid being six feet under.

I’m even offended every time the California Pizza Kitchen waitress dares ask me if I “want to start off the night with some soup or salad.” Is that even a question? What kind of healthy, functional human being dare go for the lobster bisque instead of the delectable chef salad. The concept just astounds me. But since the assignment begs the answer to the question of what my favorite soup is, I guess I’ll have to put aside my pride and passion for the downfall of soup and go with chicken noodle. While the broth may taste like chicken flavored water, the additions of noodles and chicken with an assortment of vegetables gives the dish at least some sort of direction. While most soups shy away, at least chicken noodle knows the location of Flavortown. It may not know the way there but at least Guy Fieri isn’t rolling in his future grave.

While it may be more effective to just serve the noodles and chicken by themselves with a thick, rich Alfredo sauce drizzled on top, soup and its creators just do not care. If chicken Alfredo is the lovely brother that you grew up with playing sports and wrestling with, chicken noodle soup is like the rude in-laws that you know you’re SUPPOSED to visit with and love to talk to, but you dread when Thanksgiving rolls around.

Where soup belongs. Photo by Austen Browne

After a political 2016, where none of my hopes and dreams for future President of the United States mattered in the slightest, I am shifting my political focus to ban all soups from my life for the simple fact that eating air might be a more delicious option. Join me in my quest to destroy soup.

  • Austen Browne
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