Bean Soup: An Adventure in Cooking

Not so very long ago . . .

I was hungry. Very hungry. So hungry that I thought I had better make myself some bean soup.

But then, I found myself faced with a difficult, although—as events proved—not insoluble, problem: I was out of beans. But, as luck would have it, I happened to recall that there were several bean-bag chairs downstairs.

Aha!

So of course, I casually slipped from my office, snuck1 downstairs, and absconded with the two largest bean-bags. After all, if you’re hungry you don’t do things by half-measures.

So, quietly sliding into the kitchen, I looked around for the largest possible pot. But, alas, no pot in the kitchen came even close to being able to accommodate one, let alone both, bean-bags.

What to do? Where could I find a large enough container? The bathtub!

Brilliant! So once more venturing forth on tiptoe, I made my way stealthily to the bathroom. And, what luck! found it unoccupied.

I filled the tub with hot water, added a few bay leaves for luck, and then proceeded to empty the bean-bags into the water. Mmm! You can well believe that, by this time, my stomach was growling.

Having hidden the formerly-bean-bags in a secret place,2 I sat back to wait for my soup to be ready.

Imagine my shock to find, on opening my eyes some time later, the bathtub full of floating white things. I took a closer look, just to be sure that my eyes had not deceived me.3 I was not deceived—my bathtub was full of white, floating, plastic!

Imagine my distress. While I was disposing of the no-longer-bean-bags, or perhaps while I was distracted by the rumbling of my stomach, someone had sidled into the room, furtively stolen my beans, and left without a trace (except for the white, floating, plastic).

Was I angry? At first, I was absolutely livid. Then, I noticed that, while I was engaged in my clandestine culinary escapade, Jim Jocifero had returned from the local market with a large sack of doughnuts.

So the end of my story was not so tragic after all.


“Vigna radiata, Groene Mungboon Closeup,” by Rasbak. CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

  1. Or, if you prefer, sneaked.
  2. Don’t ask about why the toilet doesn’t work anymore.
  3. But since my closer look also employed my eyes, I decided to taste one, just to be sure.

Add a Comment Here (This Means You!):

Your email is safe and will not be published, shared, sold, bought, or used to order doughnuts. Required fields are marked *

Note that, in an effort to prevent comment spam and manipulation by computational bacteria, certain words (including a number of brand names) will prevent your comment from being submitted.

*

© 1915-2017, The Flying News. Not tested on animals. Frontier Theme