Soup's Off - My Worst Cooking Disaster Ever

After reading my previous posts, you're probably wondering, how on earth could I have caused an even greater culinary disaster? Believe me, I did.

I was living in a $600 basement studio on Trowbridge Street near Harvard Square, Cambridge. The studio was located in one of those awful, pre-fab '70's-style townhouses, and it was in bad shape. According to the realtor (she only told me this after I'd moved in), numerous dogs and cats once inhabited the place, and they probably did their business all over the carpet. Soon after I started renting, the boiler had exploded, and since it was in the basement, I suffered the worst of the flooding (and you don't even want to think about what the carpet smelled like).

Throw in a really, really bad ant infestation, and you have the setting for what was truly one of the most unpalatable experiences in history - and a most disturbing image (if you are faint of stomach, please read no further).

I thought I'd try to improve my surroundings by making a delicious soup. I had some recipe for butternut squash soup, and it called for two cloves of garlic. I had never used either common ingredient before. The peeling and seeding of the squash seemed to take forever - I had no idea there were so many seeds.

Then, it was time to peel and mince the garlic. Easy enough, right?

The problem was, I wasn't familiar with garlic terminology. I thought that the word "clove" referred to the entire head of garlic. I was wondering why it was taking so damn long to peel and mince two measly cloves of garlic. Finally I just started throwing the cloves in whole. A dastardly witches' brew began to simmer in my soup pot.

A couple friends rang the doorbell. I excitedly told them about the soup I was making. They looked horrified as they surveyed my counter full of garlic skins. "Um, didn't you know that a clove was just one little section of garlic?"

My face fell. I made the wisest decision of the day: I dumped the soup down the drain.

My kitchen being infested with ants, a black line of them populated the orange line of soup in the sink. I daresay they liked it.

(I moved soon afterwards.)