A few weeks ago I claimed that our “cream” of asparagus soup was better than the one served at Le Upscale Restaurant De Francois Fancy-frois. Well, the chef down there, Fredrico Saltino de Moustachio got pretty upset and challenged us to an old fashioned soup-off. This time – cream (or “cream”) of broccoli soup. He made the traditional version, and we made ours using our secret weapon – cashew cream. We blindfolded him and gave him both soups. He tasted both and shouted, “AHA! You see, mes amies?? Le soup I have prepared – it is so very rich and full of le flavor. So le creamy! So le lovely. Also, you can eat it avec le heat or without. You and your silly le cashew cream are nothing!” Well, Fredrico unwittingly had chosen OUR soup as the better soup. Whoops! When informed of his mistake, he shouted, “MON DIEU,” tore off his chef jacket, ran out the door and hasn’t been seen or heard from since. Rumor is out that he moved to Fiji where he teaches yoga, tends to his herb garden, and goes by the name Brother Cashew Cream. Overreact much, Fredrico?

When I eat this soup, I’m taken back to my lazy summer days when I was young. I had the typical childhood – probably just like yours. My mom would wake me up early, and pack me a thermos full of carrot coconut vichyssoise. She knew how to make it just right – not too potatoey, not to coconuty – just the perfect amount of natural carrot sweetness and “creamy” deliciousness. She’d chill it all night so it would stay nice and cold in my thermos. I’d then pack my bag and head down to the river where me and my friend Huck would get into all sorts of trouble. One time some no good fellers hitched a ride on our raft and tried to steal my soup! They used the old “lactose intolerance” line, claiming they couldn’t find any quality soup anywhere on the river. Well shucks, nothing was gonna come between me and my favorite vichyssoise. Another time some rascals tried to trade for my soup – they said they had a can  of tomato-rice that they could barter. A can?? Those kidders. See, word of my mama’s soup had spread all up and down the river and people would do anything to get a taste. But nothing was gonna come between me and my vichy. Nuthin! You’ll see!

I love watermelon so much I don’t know what to do with myself. After some soul searching, I decided to write a song. Any similarities to Kermit the Frog’s Rainbow Connection are entirely coincidental.

Why aren’t there more songs, all about watermelons.
Don’t you see what’s insiiiiiiiiide
Redness and sweetness, and juicy deliciousness
And watermelons have nothing to hiiiiiide

When combined with dill, tomatoes, and cucumbers
It makes a fabulous summer soup.

Someday you’ll join me, the watermelon worshipers
The children, the puppies, and meeee
All of us under its spell
you know that it’s probably seeeeeeedless

Also, when you eat a whole watermelon, you can use the remaining shell as a bowl, a boat, or a hat. Just a friendly tip from Soupergirl!