Tag Archives: soup

Collaborate

Collaborate: (v) to work jointly on an activity, especially to produce or create something.

A pot of soup is a collaboration.

So is a deli tray.

Yet there is a massive difference between the two.

No one takes a bite of soup and comments on the beauty of the onion. It is a completed, dissolved entity, where all collaborations of flavors work toward a
common title: SOUP.

On the other hand, a deli tray has cheese, meats, vegetables with dip and maybe even some tomatoes. They lie side by side, collaborating, but simultaneously promoting themselves.

Once upon a time in a land they called the New World, people of all nationalities arrived on the shore of a budding wilderness and worked together to make “one nation under God, indivisible.”

When the need arose to provide “liberty and justice for all,” it became necessary that we melt into one another instead of segregating off into our individual portions on some sort of national deli tray.

The success of this country is based upon how well we have done that.

Right now it appears that our collaboration is a Dutch oven of boiling water, with all the ingredients sitting on the stove, waiting to be placed inside–a merger.

Instead, we put it off and we just boil.

Nothing cooks together.

Nothing flavors another.

We try to be a soup but we still resemble a deli tray.

Sooner or later, great collaboration demands that we drop into the pan and disappear, to form the “one perfect union.”

 

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Artichoke

Artichoke: (n) a European plant cultivated for its large thistlelike flower heads.dictionary with letter A

If there would actually be male and female artichokes, do you think that the woman would ever turn to her husband and say, “Artie, you got no heart…”?

I don’t know much about artichokes.

I have a friend who uses them to make a soup, and even though it’s very good, the substance that floats around in the broth kind of reminds me of broccoli stems.

Now, broccoli stems are not my favorite part of the broccoli. They always remind me of miniature renditions of the bean stalk that Jack climbed. They’ve got little places on them for your feet to situate for climbing, which are also very difficult to chew sometimes.

If somebody asked me what an artichoke tastes like, I would probably respond, “Green.” There is a whole series of vegetables which have a green taste. I’m sure they’re distinguishable, but I would be hard-pressed to describe that subtle nuance.

So as you can see, I am fumbling a bit with this subject, because everything I write is going to be incorrect due to my lack of knowledge. (But since that does not stop anybody from composing articles on blogs, I will persevere.)

I do recall that one thing I liked about my friend’s artichoke soup was how creamy it was. But that was probably due to butter and whole milk.

So if I was asked to give a definition for the artichoke, I would first compliment it for having a heart, and I would say that it represents the “Green Race” very well.

 

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix

Acajou

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acajou: {n.} 1. the wood of certain tropical timber-yielding trees, esp. mahogany 2. another term for cashew.

I’m not so sure I could identify mahogany if I saw it. Some sort of dark wood, normally associated with affluence. I don’t know why.

I DO know what cashews are.

Now most people would not think that cashews and mahogany have a whole lot in common, although I must admit, it would be wonderful to have a coffee table made out of cashews, offering a practical snack on the spot. But I don’t think it would be possible to break mahogany into little chunks, placing it into tin cans to offer as a part of a meal which began with soup and ended with nuts.

But since they share a common name the message that rings through to me is that we are much better off in life looking for similarities than we are focusing on differences.

In other words, if I stand in front of a group of people and say, “Mahogany and cashews are really different, aren’t they?” everybody would agree and soon we would be onto other topics with very little enlightenment, and also with me not coming across as very creative or intuitive.

But if’ I am able to find union between mahogany and cashews, then I have done something of quality, linking my world together instead of emphasizing the chasms between ideas.

  • How is a Republican like a Democrat?
  • How is a liberal like a conservative?
  • How is a Christian like a worldly person?
  • How is a woman like a man?

These are the kinds of questions that bring us together instead of tearing us apart.

Mahogany is considered to be a very expensive and durable wood. Cashews are the King of the Nuts, and even though the title does not sound particularly honorable, it does carry its own weight and flavor. So as I discover that mahogany and cashews do share the same name in this particular dictionary definition, I feel juiced up by the project of finding the similarities in their characters.

You can feel free to divide your world into smaller and smaller boxes until you’ve littered your closet with a whole series of unmarked packages.

Not me. I want to throw away the boxes and see if this thing we call human passage isn’t just a puzzle, trying to fit the pieces together … instead of tearing them apart.