Alphabet
Soup Spells W-O-W!
By Kate Heidel
As
part of our "Kitchen Basics" series, we've spent the last six months
polling our readers to discover their most original uses for various
cuisine staples. In this issue, our feature is good old-fashioned
alphabet soup.
We hope you
enjoy our selection of reader responses! And if you think alphabet
soup is just a blend of over-salted broth, soggy letter-shaped noodles,
and chintzy pieces of vegetable that fail to meet minimum nutritional
standards, hold on to your H-O-R-S-E-S!
Sally Mickelson
of Canton, Ohio writes:
"One afternoon
at work I was enjoying a nice hot bowl of alphabet soup in my cubicle.
The office wolf, Jack, started coming on to me the way he does to
all the girls. Jack got in real close and said something in my ear
that I can't repeat. Well, that did it. Without thinking I threw
the bowl of hot alphabet soup right in his face! The letters were
so hot, some of them burned into one of his cheeks. And guess what
the letters were? R-A-T!I swear!! I think the Lord did it."
And here's
a unique treat from the enthusiastic Rachel Benkers of Bar Harbor,
Maine:
"I have a special
recipe for lasagna that requires alphabet soup! I can't give all
of the recipe away, but I can tell you that all the pasta layers
are made entirely of letters! It takes approximately 155 cans to
get all the letters I need, but it's worth it!! I can't give away
the name of my lasagna recipe, but I can tell you it has the word
'dictionary' in it! Oh, and throw away the leftover soup, because
it's no good without the letters."
Mrs. Leslie
Simony of Russell Springs, Kansas offers this unusual tip:
"My daughter
Kelly owns three little pets: a hamster named Bill, and two geckos,
Hillary and Monica. Kelly likes to throw little parties for her
menagerie, so I came up with the idea of putting their special party
meals in thimbles. For the 'main course' I pour a little alphabet
soup in each thimble, and place the first letter of each pet's name
as a garnish on top. Usually, the geckos eat just the letter and
leave the rest. Bill, unfortunately, ate the thimble, too, so Kelly's
new hamster friend is Bill the Second. I know how Hillary and Monica
feel, by the way. Alphabet soup without the letters is just pathetic."
We also thought
it would be fun to let some of our respondents share ideas with
each other, thus adding spice, as it were, to our poll results.
But considering the heated nature of those exchanges, we may have
gotten ourselves in a little too deep in the spice department! What
follows is one of the tamer communications, but even it had to be
edited for content. Y-I-K-E-S!
Mrs. Evelyn
P. of Tallahassee, Florida:
"I always buy
extra cans of alphabet soup so that I can strain some of them just
for the letters. I dry the letters on a paper towel in my sun porch
and then create little edible messages for my husband and children.
For instance,
in anticipation of a rare lunch-at-home with my husband on a recent
weekday, I left S-W-E-E-T-I-E P-I-E arranged in dried alphabet
soup letters on my husband's napkin. As he ate them, he called them
my 'love letters.' Who could ask for more!"
Responding
is Mrs. Jeannine S. of New Britain, Connecticut:
"I, like Mrs.
P. from Tallahassee, dry alphabet soup letters, but I would suggest
that she NOT dry them on a paper towel, but use a clean cloth instead.
You might think your letters are free of paper, but believe me,
the paper seeps into the letter and essentially you're feeding your
husband noodles with paper fibers. I know, because my husband is
a chemist, and he tested one of my paper-towel letters and reported
back his findings. I get so turned on when he reports findings.
Anyway. Just a word to the wise."
Responding
to Mrs. Jeannine S., Mrs. Evelyn P. had this to say:
"Please thank
Mrs. Jeannine S. from New Britain for her suggestion. However, we
simple people of Tallahassee are not afraid of paper towels. My
husband, Shelby, may not be a big important chemist, but as a hard-working
provider who has earned the prized 'Shoe Salesman of the Southeast'
quarterly award twice in succession, he knows when he's eating noodles
dried by love versus dried by a big snob. Here's some free education
for Mrs. East Coast: down South, sun porches have been known to
parch alligators so dry and teensy you could eat 'em on a stick.
So we don't worry about paper seeping into anything, thank you very
kindly."
The final
response from Mrs. Jeannine S.:
"Well, pardon
moi for wanting to help another homemaker be the best she
can be! I thought we were all in this together, but I guess I was
mistaken. Enclosed is my alphabet-soup-letter note to Mrs. Evelyn
P. of Tallahassee. It has been dried on LINEN and expertly glued
on 100% SILK, because I never lower my standards, even for Southern
hayseeds. In case she can't read too well, I'll spell it out:
*-* Y-O-U-R-S, T-A-L-L-A-H-A-S-S-E-E! And by the way, commas
and exclamation points are formed by using something called 'imagination'!!"
At least we
can report one note of harmony between Mrs. P. and Mrs. S: they
both recommend throwing the soup away once the letters have been
strained out. Evidently, alphabet soup without its famous noodles
is one big D-U-D!
© 2006
Kate Heidel
OTHER HW ARTICLES BY KATE HEIDEL
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kate Heidel is a freelance
writer living in Minneapolis. Her work includes humor essays and
poetry, and her articles have appeared in "Rochester Magazine" and
"Simply Minnesota."
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