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JO JANOSKI resides in Pittsburgh, PA, USA with her husband, Ron.
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Why eat canned soup?
Excuse me while I digress...
Why eat canned soup?
Why do we eat canned soup? The question occurred to me as I bent over my bowl of Campbell's vegetable soup. The discarded can on the sink stared back as I sipped. I studied the condensed soup blobs spilled on top of the ubiquitous Campbell's red and white label. The empty can presented a forlorn picture, much like the mediocre product itself.
Why not make fresh soup? If you cheat and use bouillon, it doesn't take long. Or if you make your own stock, all the better. Cleaning and chopping the veggies is no big deal; or cheater that you are, frozen veggies or dehydrated ones are an option. Or a combination of dried and fresh carrots and potatoes. Left over meat, pasta flung in, the possibilities are endless. And then lunch could be an event instead of a boring bowl of Campbells.
Because of the memories, that's why. We eat canned soup because of the memories. Enjoying my soup, I can be ten years old again. Ten years old and sitting with my mother, having lunch as we always did. I rushed home from grammar school to eat with her and my brother. We had our soup and all was right with the world.
The fifties housewife did not place an emphasis or fresh like we do today. Canned soup was fine by them, a nice convenience no one ever questioned. But then again, they spent their time shining windows, vacuuming, and ironing all-cotton clothes, being the excellent, not housekeepers, but homemakers, that they were. All that, and they were there to listen at lunch to our problems and stories. To smile and encourage.
Ah, there is the difference! We may eat fresh vegetable soup, but do we eat it at the table together for lunch? No. Each family member grabs it on the fly whenever it fits his schedule. So the soup is good today, the company not so much. Mom may have served canned soup, but it was served with abundant love and attention in good company every day.
We may have good, fresh veggies in our soup, but Mom's canned was still better. Hers made memories. |
Posted: 09:25 AM, November 12, 2007 in Essays |
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