Chip and Dale Designs

THE BEAN SOUP DEBACLE

My wonderful hubby made some very delicious homemade bean soup for dinner last week. It was amazing! However, it did take me back to a warm, hot summer night in June in 1982.

The Beans

My mother’s bean soup had never been a favorite of mine. My mother’s recipe was a tad on the creamy side- not clam chowder creamy but definitely more to it than just broth. So, I used to add ketchup to it. Now, as an adult that sounds totally gross, but as a kid you did what you had to do to stuff down dinner. If you didn’t like what was on the table, tough shit- there were no options. You ate what was on the table or you didn’t eat at all.

That hot, muggy summer night was a night of partying- imagine that. One of my dear friends was graduating from high school. She grew up across the street from me, so my dad sent along with me a giant pot of his home made bean soup to the party. Now this one pot could have fed all of Philly. Well, what a party it was. Swimming, drinking, food and boys! After the party was over, somehow I talked a certain jock I had a crush on to let me give him a ride home. I am sure he was a bit tipsy for this to happen. Well, I sat the pot of leftover soup on the back seat and took him home. He lived in the neighboring town- it was about a 2 mile drive on winding, curvy roads. When I got back home, I got in the back seat to grab the pot of soup and guess what- the damn pot spilled all over the back seat of the car! From how much soup I tried to scoop up, the guests at the party must have had the same taste in soup that I did. I have no idea what I used to get the soup up off of the seat- I am sure I was trying to be quiet as it was wayyyy late and I didn’t want to wake my father- or the neighbors. We all slept with our windows open- only the rich people had air conditioners. I wiped it up best I could and took the mostly empty pot into the house.

No use crying over spilt beans!

The next morning, I was up at the crack of dawn- or before- to leave on a trip with my sister to visit my brother in Missouri. I was so hungover I could have cried, but off we went. ( I know- no pity for the under-age drinker with the hangover) My dad dropped me off at my sister’s house and that adventure began. Another blog story – I promise!

Several days later I got a call from my father- he was not amused. Now remember- I grew up in Pennsylvania which has nice, sticky, humid, hot summer days and nights. Evidently, I did not clean up all of the bean soup. He had been taking some guys back and forth to work with him that week and the car had started to smell. He said it got so bad they had to stick their heads out of the windows and wear gas masks. I can just picture 4 burly construction guys driving down Interstate 81 with their heads stuck out the windows like dogs!

Dad and his co-workers heading to work

Finally, my dad got in the back seat and lifted the seat up and found- maggots. Tons of maggots! It probably looked the Body Farm in there! The little critters loved the bean soup, evidently. Good for them, I thought- they can have it. He said I was damn lucky I was 1,000 miles away or he would have wrung my neck. And I bet he would have! I was sure glad I was in Missouri- and had another week before I went home and he had time to cool off.

I never took bean soup to another party- and frankly kind of lost the taste for it at all. It is a good thing my hubby’s doesn’t even look like my dad’s version!