Cypriot housewives came within a soup can from resembling their American counterparts last month. Just in case you’re wondering, that can would have been filled with cream of mushroom soup. Huge swarms of desert locusts reached Cyprus and other eastern Mediterranean countries in early November after the worst infestation recorded in Africa in recent history. The locusts became such a serious problem that the United Nations set up a special Web site with locust-based recipes from around the world. Essentially, the attitude of the site, which pleaded, "Send us your recipes!" was, "If you can’t beat them, eat them." As it turns out, locusts are commonly stir-fried, boiled or roasted. One Cambodian recipe suggested, "Take several dozen locust adults, preferably females, slit the abdomen lengthwise and stuff a peanut inside. Then lightly cook the locusts in a wok, adding a little oil and salt to taste." The obvious question here is not how much oil or salt is enough, but rather how to determine which locusts are female. Without identifying skirts or makeup, aren’t all locusts pretty much the same? Quite surprisingly, none of the recipes mentioned cream of mushroom soup as a perfect taste cover-up. This might be an ideal time for Cypriot homemakers to be introduced to the marvelous soup which, like glue, has been holding American hot dishes together for several generations. Whether the cream of mushroom soups are labeled as salt-free, low-fat, or chunky variety, they all look the same. When you open a can, there’s a sudden musky smell in the air and the grayish-tan condensed soup with a few unidentifiable chunks floating on the top is ready to perform a miracle or two. It’s true. Cream of mushroom soup is a miracle maker. Smothered with cream of mushroom soup and simmered long enough, any undesirable species of animal can work itself at least two links up the food chain. Lawn snails can taste like frogs, snakes can taste like chicken and venison can taste like beef. It’s why most homemakers don’t complain when their family members tramp through forests, swamps and prairies during hunting season, in quest of food for the family fires. Regardless of what game they bring back — a deer, a rabbit, a pheasant or even a raccoon that looked like a deer from a distance –— we trust in the true taste-masking magic of cream of mushroom soup. Of course, as with any wonderful idea, cream of mushroom soup is not without its critics. They will be quick to tell us that the soup is tasteless, boring, unimaginative or even unhealthy. If you’re in doubt, consider these two facts about those bad-mouthing critics. For one thing, any person who would speak derogatorily about something as pure and sweet as cream of mushroom soup will speak the same way about other taste sensations, such as hydrogenated fats or deep-fried doughnuts, dripping with buttery frosting. Secondly, you can be sure those critics have never been handed an abundance of game meats during hunting season. They have never been asked, "Honey, can you make this taste like chicken?"
