So, I made soup this weekend. It was really awesome soup, too. I took one of those Bear Creek Cheddar & Broccoli soup mixes and added sauteed onions, garlic and fresh chopped broccoli to it to give it a little more substance. I added a dash of white wine and some cracked pepper, too.
Oh, how we loooove that soup. It tastes so, so, so good. A little bit goes a long way since it’s so rich, but it’s very, very tasty. Only caveat? It left us both spending far too much time in Fonzie’s office, if you catch my drift.
Why? Why, soup, why? You’re so delicious and hearty! Your tupperware taunts me on the top shelf of the fridge. The first day we enjoyed you? We weren’t sure it was you, so we pretended it wasn’t. The second day? We let it slide. You were so yummy, it was easy to overlook your intestinal prowess. The third day? I’ve got to tell you… it was harder to ignore. We both opted to avoid your leftovers and there they sit, a full container of your luscious butt-accosting broccoli-cheese goodness taunting me, beckoning for me to enjoy another bowl. “Eat me,” you say. “Maybe I won’t blow a hole in your innards this time. C’moooon, you know you want me.”
Man, that soup is such a little slut.
