But unfortunately, he does have a bit of a soup-making fetish. And when I hear the words: “I think I’ll just go and make a nice soup” my heart sinks.
These are the reasons why:
- His concoctions usually involve using anything and EVERYTHING he finds in the fridge – normally vital ingredients I have ear-marked for other meals. Nothing is safe.
- He somehow manages to leave splat soup-matter (from where he has used the hand-held blender) over every single wall, surface, and floor, but is adamant that the splats don’t exist, and that it’s all in my head.
- Large vessels of soups then take up all the space in the fridge, leaving no room for anything else. (Although at this point there isn’t anything else because it is now all in the soups).
- Our children don’t even like soup, so this means I make daily trips to the shops to replenish stocks so that I am able to make them a non-soup meal.
- I am often not able to stomach his ‘creative’ combinations.
- Tom and I disagree on what the consistency of a soup should be. He likes very watery, and I like a consistency not that dissimilar to that of baby purees.
- So sadly, I don’t like his soups either.
- Even he admits that sometimes his soups taste pretty foul.
- Still doesn’t stop him though.
Having said all this, he does make a pretty mean mushroom soup (I had to add this in, to save his feelings).