It must’ve been soup, but it’s over now

What is it about this muggy June day that makes me want to inhale hot liquids like a Hoover wet-vac? I’ve been fiendishly craving soup daily in spite of this Dirty Dancing II: Hot Havana Nights weather we’ve been having.

I know my fellow flogger Michelle disdains soup. But I think her concept of soup is a 79 cent dented can of Campbell’s chicken & stars. That salty gruel is actually delicious, too, in its own right. But it’s not a proper representation of what soup can really be in all its glory. (Trust me, cream of asparagus prepared by a chef trained at the Bel-Aire will make anyone start a murderous rampage of soupy joy.)

Confession time: When presented with two or more big stainless steel vats of soup, I become…. a soup mixer. Like 12-year-olds mix Mountain Dew and Orange Crush at the soda fountain, I mix seafood bisque and curried lentil.

Best decision of my life.