Demon Soup

It's always there. Waiting. Lurking smugly at the back of your cupboard. Knowing that no matter how long you put it off, you'll have to eat it at some point.

I'm talking about the Mistake Soup, the one which you bought that you later realised was revolting. Usually, you bought several tins in your cheerful optimism at what was promised on the label.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

I've had to use up three of these things. Whenever the taste begins to fade from memory, I'll root them out from the back of the cupboard, tutting at myself. How bad can it really be?

It resists all attempts to make it taste vaguely palatable. The particular flavour I'm talking about is Sainsbury's own Tomato and Red Pepper tinned soup.

Yeah, I know. It sounded amazing to me too. The creamy taste of tomato soup features in everyone's childhood memories. I thought that peppers, roasted to bring out their natural sweetness and then added to that creamy soup would have added a richness and depth that is somehow lacking from tomato soup.

It's bitter, thick, and it coats your mouth with a flavour that lingers after you've swallowed. Yuck. And the worst thing is that this stuff multiplies beyond reason. If you add water or milk or stock to make it less gloopy or to take the edge off, it remains as thick as ever, but there's now far more of it. Which means you've got to drink this stuff every lunchtime for days.

The chunks of soggy red pepper sulk in the heavy morass. I imagine that before they were sealed into that tomb they probably struggled, swimming for the edge and crying that such a crime against Flavour should never be.

But that's just my imagination pandering to my indignant taste buds. I'm sure I'll get over it. And I'll be more suspicious of tinned soup in the future.

Lesson learned, readers.

Nighty night!