Peanut Brittle Soup: A Fable

February 1, 2006 | By Adam Roberts | 33 Comments

There once was a boy whose spirits would droop

“I love to eat candy

and I love to eat soup,”

he’d write in his journal

while taking a poop.

“One day I will find a solution.”

He travelled the world and the world shook its head

He slept with great wisemen

and the wisemen all said

“Tie up my feet and jump on the bed”

which only increased his confusion.

“I don’t understand why I’ve learned so little,”

he wrote in his journal while taking a piddle,

“Perhaps I’ll go home and make peanut brittle,”

and that’s where our fable begins.

He used the Craft cookbook by Tom Collichio

He gathered up butter, one giant stick-io

and sugar and water and felt mighty slickio

he turned up the heat with two spins.

And this is where the story turns tragic

Only one other word rhymes with tragic

The recipe says, as if by magic

“The caramel will soon turn amber.”

“How yellow is amber?” the boy wondered aloud

And studied the mixture, a yellow white cloud

“I think it is ready,” he said mighty proud

His voice quite assured in its timbre.

He added some peanuts, he added some salt

He wondered if the polar bear on Lost is caused by Walt

then he poured out the mixture, a peanut gestalt

swimming with glee on a Silpat.

“Swimming with glee? Why’re they swimming with glee?

This isn’t the way peanut brittle should be.

Peanut brittle isn’t known for its flluidity.”

His ego and confidence: SPLAT.

“I know: in the fridge!” he said with a laugh.

“That should speed up the cooling by half.”

He cleared out some space and drank a carafe

of milk that was two weeks expired.

One hour later, the young boy came back

“Now I will have my peanut brittle snack.”

But the peanut brittle was still wet as the rack

of a model who always perspired.

The poor young boy’s face returned to its droop

“I said I loved candy

I said I loved soup

and now my peanut brittle’s like poop”

and this poop he quickly discarded.

So what have we learned in this tale of a tot

Who knew what he wanted, but didn’t want what he got?

We have learned that when sugar gets hot

The recipe better tell you the temperature, not the color,

or your results will be retarded.

THE END

Categories: Uncategorized