AS A CHILD READER, I hungered for the dishes fictional characters devoured. British kids in Noel Streatfeild’s SHOES books breakfasted on “fry ups” of sausage, eggs, sliced bread, and kippers, while Hansel and Gretel feasted famously on marzipan windows and cookie-dough sills.
Back then, fairy godmothers impressed me less than huge castle feasts, the treacle from Alice’s well, her little cakes and comfits, and the Snow Queen’s Turkish delight.
And then there was “Stone Soup.” A ravenous little girl, I salivated when clever Fox, 
after declaring to the other Animals that he could make soup with just a stone, enticed his guests to add herbs, lentils, carrots—a stalk of celery, here, a grand, round potato there—until, voilà! Boiling in Fox’s cauldron was a magnificent soup made (almost) from a single stone.
Now that I’m a still-peckish adult, the journal ALIMENTUM: The Literature of Food feeds my need for pages of pasta, potatoes, porridge. Publishing fiction, poetry, and creative nonfiction exclusively about food, ALIMENTUM delivers a tasty meal, complete with napkin, right to your inbox.
Writing prompt
Dig into the cupboards of your imagination and the crisper drawers of your creativity and cook up the story of an unexpected soup. Metaphorical or actual, let whatever you dish up have unexpected benefits—or unexpected consequences!
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Thanks to U.S. Games Systems, Inc., for kind permission to use the image of the Seven of Disks, from the ANCESTRAL PATH TAROT.
A version of this prompt appeared on a previous blog, Workshop Porkchop.
