Once u-pun a thyme, Mrs. Dash ran with an unsavoury idea: “How i-dill weed bean!” She did not relish bland shelf life racked with beaten eggs and whipped cream. “Fiddle! Head off ennui! Lettuce throw our caraway. Allspice up life with an a-mace-ing Cn’ajun soup.”
She thought rye-ly, “For a Cn’ajun soup we oat to fennel our resources among the regions. Lettuce sea lettuce from sea to sea to sea. Plus bouquet garni au Quebec…but when that leeks out, will there be western flax or fresh country peas? Well, I can barley wait to begin! Hois-in with me?”
She got a mixed reaction.
“I yam!” peeled sweet potato.
“Water good idea!” said another.
Naturally, to her sorrel, others thought it was a corny idea and tried to squash it.
“What a nut, Meg!” grated coarse seasoned salts. “You’re full of beans! Have you taken stock? A chafing dish for overpowering spices? You’ll roux the day rosemary leaves crushed garlic, onions pepper tomatoes, asparagus spear mint, sugar beets cream of tartar.”
“Celery stalks chick peas,” snipped parsley.
“Peas be with us! Cut the flax!” ground sage. “Mrs. Dash mustard-ently curry flavour with roc salt. Butter beware that bouquet garni mint to separate intact.”
“What’s bouquet garni?”
“Beets me!”
“Jerk spice,” cracked wheat.
Mrs. Dash added snow peas and Arctic fernwood.
“Have a heart,” Arti choke’d. “Now this dash’d Cn’ajun soup is not so hot!” Mrs. Dash stirred. “Well, that’s cous… cous it’s a chili country,” she clarified with ghee.
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