One soup…two soups…

…seventy soups.

This is soup for 70. Well, it’ll hopefully feed 70 – if it doesn’t there may well be some hungry people at tonight’s firework gathering who won’t have properly lined their stomachs before tucking into the mulled cider.

I can quite categorically state that I’ve never made soup for 70 before. Thankfully I wasn’t in charge – the fabulous Mills (of Corker and Mills fame) was, and it was up to me and my fellow soup making assistant to follow instructions.

It has to be said that I don’t have the most fabulous record when it comes to cooking savoury items. There was the accidental inclusion of half a jar of mixed herbs when I tapped it over-enthusiastically into a pasta sauce; not to mention the very recent setting fire to a saucepan after letting oil get too hot incident (not entirely my fault – it was a gas hob & I’m used to electric). I was therefore just a tad nervous that I’d do something hideously wrong.

Fortunately I didn’t – but the others had their fair share of mishaps…

What you need to make enough Tomato & Basil soup and Leek & Potato soup to feed 70

See that bottle of olive oil? That was shattered on the floor within 2 minutes of the photo being taken. Oops.

Then there was the saga of the hobs – not only tricky to light but nigh on impossible to turn down once functioning. Mills was in charge of this task and we left her to it – until I heard a loud rude word (not something to be said in a church building) and smelt an odd burning aroma. I turned round to spot a rather stunned Mills with slightly shorter eyelashes and a partially incinerated fringe – it seems that she got the burner lit but the flame that resulted was surprisingly high!

Finally, there was the loss of a colander handle. Almost the last thing you need to happen while draining soup of excess liquid is for one of the handles on the colander to come off in your hands – not only is there the risk of soup falling to the floor, but getting hot liquid on your hands is also rather painful. (Speaking from personal experience.)

Mills and one detached handle. 
(Those are my hands, which bore the brunt of the misplaced liquid.)

Otherwise, the cauldrons of soup were brewed with the accompaniment of girlie chat – the eternal problem was pondered and men-folk disparaged – it was incredibly cathartic. Plus, the results looked immensely appetising, don’t you think?

Of course, I may be blogging prematurely. It won’t be sampled until later, so who knows, perhaps it’ll be revolting?

One final note. If you don’t recognise the reference to soup in the title, then you need to watch this. I spent quite a lot of time last night chuckling at my memory of the classic Victoria Wood sketch – trust me, once watched, you’ll never be able to order soup in a restaurant with a straight face again.


  1. It was VERY yummy. 🙂

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