It was Nietzsche who wrote, “And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes into you.” I’m not big on abysses. Moreover, I’m not big on abysses staring into me. I suppose that’s what Pea Soup Andersen’s became for me, a big black unknown. I’ve passed it numerous times, but have never made the stop.
Recently, I decided to end the abyss’ power over me. On a dash up north, the wife and I decided to stop and shed some light into the deep, dark unknown. Upon entering the quaint roadside stop, it would appear that my nemesis, the aforementioned abyss would again test out my will.
The challenge was thrown out to me. For nine and a half dollars, how much pea soup could I eat? The pea. The Paul McCartney of the legume world. Would I stay and play the game? Or would I leave and let the abyss feed on my fear of the unknown?
Fear is normal, but to back down to it is unacceptable. To do so would mean that I should turn in my Animated Meat card and go back to playing it safe. “Waitress, bring me a bowl!” And bring me a bowl she did.
The pea soup here is special, 100% vegetarian. Don’t look for any pork in this soup, just spoonful after spoonful of pure pea delight.
And so I had my answer, a bowl and a half. That’s how much pea soup I can eat. I have looked into the eye of the beast and have not blinked.