'Last Tuesday
we ran out of soup. I couldn’t believe
it at first. We always have soup. Carrot and tomato, lentil, parsnip and
potato, banana and peach.
Just a few
of my favourites.
I prefer a
starchy soup. But I don’t care for
legumes. Leguminous soup gives me wind.
They say,
soak and boil the beans first and rinse off the starchy residue. I can’t be arsed, quite frankly. Can anyone?
I just fling them in the pan.
Sometimes I use a dried legume; on other occasions I might use tinned.
The other
day, I read about tins being dangerous.
Not tins in and of themselves, other than the lids, which as we all know
are lethal if you’re not vigilant. It’s
the lining, you see. It affects the
contents in some way that I couldn’t really be bothered remembering.
It’s a bit
confusing really. One newspaper expert
says that half a can of peaches, for example, provides one of your five a
day. The other half can be flung in the
bin, or saved for another day. Or
perhaps given to someone else, if you’re not on your own. Another newspaper expert says that you
shouldn’t eat from tins at all, because the lining of the tin has a harmful
effect on your corporeum.
I don’t know
what to make of it all, at all.
I like
soup. I like to make soup from
tins. Perhaps I should cut out the
middle man and drink tinned soup.
Which brings
me to another problem. Does one eat
soup, or does one drink it?
I suppose if
one is faced with a plateful of leguminous soup, packed with chunky legumes and
such like, one might eat it rather than drink it.
Are eating
and drinking the same thing? Are the
words interchangeable? And if so, is one
of the words therefore redundant? Sort
of like the tail of a tadpole, before it transforms into a frog or toad?'
This (the above) is what I saw when I accidentally peered into Geoffrey's brain last Sunday evening while searching, vainly, for a lost pyjama button down the back of the sofa - an endless ream of words that make little sense, unless you happen to be Geoffrey. And even then, you might give up and have a biscuit.
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