Guest Blogger

Rice, Rice Baby

November 08, 2006

I once spent $43 for a $1.50 bowl of soup. I wasn't going to let the fact that I was in San Diego and the soup I craved was clear across the country in New York City get in my way. Thus the sticker shock.

I discovered this wonderful soup while prowling Greenwich Village. The place is "Mama Buddha" and the soup to die for is called "Seven Spice Pepper Soup." They should call it crack cocaine.

One day while I was feeling blue I thought to myself "I will have the soup, that soup will be mine," so I called in an order. I told the very startled woman who barely spoke English that I needed to have it over-nighted Federal Express to California. The waitresses were confused and amused but by golly they made it happen… twice!

Now I am legendary there. They know me as the California crazy man soup addict. There is nothing better than this
simple luxury. It arrives on my doorstop packed in dry ice. I pop it in the microwave and few minutes later my craving is calmed and my tummy's full.

Who cares that my wallet's empty?