The Suitcase Lady

The Suitcase Lady Blog is now in its second year.

Thanks to all my family, friends and friends of friends for traveling with me this past year.

The fantasy of all of you together in a room for a big party is tantalizing, but cyberspace is the more realistic alternative. Feel free to invite others.

I have a streamlined new address:

www.thesuitcaselady.com

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Soup

I am extremely steamed up about soup... pun intended. I just ate yet another disgusting bowl of what was labeled as "soup" at a restaurant in the Dallas airport.

Some higher power needs to inform America's restaurants that soup is a liquid, not a solid. Of course, carrots, clams, noodles, mushrooms and other lovely things can float in the liquid. Nevertheless, soupiness is what makes soup soup.

Soup is one of my favorite types of food, and I have been privileged to eat delectable soups all over the world. No where but in American restaurants is soup reduced (literally reduced) to the consistency of half-congealed plaster of Paris.

I try to be a polite person. The only way I can protect myself from solid soup is to ask the waitperson gently, "Will a spoon stand up straight in the middle of your soup?" Most waitstaff under age 20 are clueless about what I'm asking... they've all been raised on stone soup.

I believe this sad culinary state of affairs came about because of America's need to take everything to ludicrous extremes. (For example, if a car is good, a SUV is better.) As a result, cream soups have been made ridiculously thick. When a restaurant serves me a slab of that stuff for a first course, I know immediately there is no one in the kitchen who deserves to be called a chef.

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