God in the Kitchen, Making Casserole

This is from The Far Side. Please don’t sue me.

This is the concluding post of the Miracles of Midwestern Cooking series.

Sometimes I think of the whole world as one big casserole, assembled in a glass dish God purchased at Wal-Mart and set to cook at 350 million degrees Fahrenheit, with all of the  creatures, both plant and animal, bubbling together for millions of years.

North America is the cream of chicken soup. England is cream of mushroom. France supplies the butter and cream, while Italy comes up with some carbs and Germany throws in its brats.

India and China add spice and Japan classes it up. North Africa brings the sweet with the salty, West Africa tosses in some peanuts, South America beefs it up and adds the lime juice and beans.

Other regions mix in their own special beats, the carbs and proteins they love best and all of the roasting and toasting and broasting they do to get them just right.

We’re topped with a combination of cheddar cheese ozone and fried onions that sizzle and melt under our very own star.

As the goop swims around we learn stuff, finding that some things are delicious on their own, but most often they taste better together. That’s why there should be world peace, because cream of mushroom soup is a physical abomination by itself and spices need something to go on.

I’m not advocating an Indian-spiced cream of mushroom soup, but you get my point.

And in the end maybe a casserole isn’t the best metaphor for earth, because casseroles can be kind of gross and uncivilized. Then again, so can humans.

Probably the best reason the casserole metaphor falls apart is because each of these regions developed at the same time over many years from the same primordial cream of human soup instead of being added separately. None of us could be where we are without the other.

But I still like the image of God in the kitchen, mixing together the most epic casserole of the day. I hope it tastes good.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

19 thoughts on “God in the Kitchen, Making Casserole

  1. I loved this and loved the muni bus post. I’m about to read everything you’ve got here. Casseroles can indeed be gross and uncivilized and yes, so can humans. That said, some of the best meals I’ve ever eaten were those that were made of whatever I found in the fridge, garden or shelves. And some of the best moments in my life have been with an eclectic group of humans. Sometimes it takes all of us to bring out the best in each of us.

  2. […] If you liked this post, you might like Me and God Kicking it at Six Flags and God in the Kitchen, Making Casserole.  […]

  3. My husband once mixed a can of cream of mushroom soup with a can of condensed tomato soup and called it bisque. Sometimes I have nightmares about it.

  4. Good stuff.Food for thought but I have to say “the proof is in the pudding.”

  5. supernaut says:

    Reached your blog via comments @ alanschuyler’s blog.. This is nice writing that you’ve got here! I think I’ll be a returning visitor.

  6. tomwisk says:

    God’s a chef, our job in the kitchen is to keep the food coming. My mom went through a curry phase, just like the tarragon vinegar phase. They came, they went. Memories remain.

  7. Good one. Simple, to the point, like gramma’s “hotdish,” as they call the casserole in the Midwest, USofA.

  8. Masterful conclusion to your series! 😀 I should have never doubted you, and please forgive me… I blame it all on having heard too many stories about people out in the plains states going stark raving crazy from the combination of seemingly infinite flatness, and being severely land locked, and so many miles away from the healing and restorative powers of an ocean coastline, or a mountain range!

    But I should have known that you were more than up to not only just surviving, but thriving!

  9. If the world is a casserole, then I am the spice of awesome.

  10. Kai says:

    Very interesting post. I like it.

Snot Back

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: