All I want is black bean soup, and you to serve it to me. I recall an episode of Starsky & Hutch, from around 1975 or ’76, which involved black bean soup. And a little song about soup. Now, I know that I should feel a modicum of shame, but I was an impressionable child. And, of course, I was only two or three at the time.
Anyway, when in Liverpool a few weeks ago, we bought some cartons of black bean soup from a most unusual shop. When sober, the soup didn’t seem very appealing, so it’d remained in a cupboard following our return home. However, after a long day in London, I decided to try some.
I used to own a couple of Kirkland signature shirts. I say used to because they perished during a wash with my second in command’s chef whites. I’ve since bought another, but don’t often wear it because it’s not as non-iron as I’d believed. It’s quite nice though.
I mention the shirts because, as I opened a carton of soup, I noticed that it too was branded Kirkland signature. I compared the carton with the label in my shirt and they were identical. It seemed unusual at first that a manufacturer would produce both shirts and soup, but, in my experience, the two do often go together.
The soup was actually ok. The heap of pepper I’d added seemed to help.
