Do you know Maurice Sendak’s book, Chicken Soup with Rice? It’s a charming book of months where a little boy shares soup in various ways – with a snowman, a turtle, the wind, a Christmas tree. Ok, describing it now, it seems it’s more like an LSD trip, but trust me: it’s sweet. Every time I read it to the kids I think, “Dang. I should make some chicken soup with rice.”
Well, today I read it and announced, “I’m going to make turkey soup with rice for dinner!” They were suitably joyful.
But, I got home late. Quickly chopped carrots, celery and the stock made from the turkey carcass were thrown in a pot, but the rice! I didn’t have rice! I threw in a box of Rice-A-Roni.
Mmmmm…. doesn’t that look yummy? Like a big pot of health?
Well, guess what? Rice-A-Roni rice is some sort of mutant grain, because the ‘roni’ noodles were pale and wrong, and the rice bits looked like tiny maggots. *jibblie* I threw in some other noodles once I saw the terrible turn this was making.
Oy. I kind of gave up and let it simmer into sludge, not even tasting it for seasoning. I announced that the food was hot and that it would not hurt my feelings at all if Lloyd made a sandwich. He said he’d eat it, though, with crackers – as is his custom.
“This soup is amazing on crackers!” he exclaimed. I looked up from my pale bowl and asked,”Are we eating the same soup?” When his cracker sleeve ran out he grabbed a different box from the shelf. With that bite, he said, “Oh.”
The new crackers? Regular Ritz. The first ‘delicious soup’ crackers?
Well, no duh.