I suppose it’s safe to say that this soup comes with a story.
Weird, I know.
This was the soup that I conjured up to take to my audition for that lil’ cooking show I told you about. You know … the one with Nigella and Anthony. On a major network. Small fries. Small potatoes? Whatevs.
I’m going to tell you the story of that audition, although you won’t be getting the results, because I don’t know them yet myself. Unless someone out there knows something otherwise – we’re in full-on wait-mode right now.
Except I’m not really waiting, because I think the word “waiting” signifies that you’re sitting around, in a state at least somewhat close to inactivity – which clearly, I am not.
Between being engaged – is this a real thing that people already have a gift registry by now, because that scares me – planning an engagement party, going to Key West last weekend which, by the way, I’ve decided is like Vegas in the fact that I shouldn’t be allowed to stay there for a period longer than 3 nights … oh, wait – and that reminds me, I will be in Vegas the weekend after my engagement party for my BFFs bachelorette party, and then there’s another one in the DR and then wedding after wedding after wedding after … and don’t I have my own wedding to plan, or even think about, for that matter?
ANYHOO.
