A brief, delectable guide to elephant soup

There are many fine culinary traditions in the world: French sauces, Italian pastas and whatever it is your uncle does with a smoker and three questionable cuts of road kill. But few recipes carry the mystique, the grandeur and the logistical red flags of elephant soup.

Before we begin, let’s address the obvious: No elephants were harmed in the making of this column. In fact, no elephants were even mildly inconvenienced. The only thing at risk here is your dignity if you try to serve this at a dinner party, and my possible argument against insanity if it ever comes up in court.

A totally accurate (and completely fabricated) history

Elephant soup, as legend has it, dates back to the early 1700s when a group of explorers got very lost, very hungry and very optimistic about portion sizes. According to the often-misquoted journals of Sir Reginald Butterworth III, the group stumbled upon what they described as “an extraordinarily large entrée with legs.” However, disaster wasn’t far behind since the only utensil the explorers brought with them was a pair of olive tongs. And as any culinary expert can tell you, picking up an elephant with olive tongs is the ultimate in self-defeating behavior.

After several hours of debate — and one unfortunate attempt to marinate something that refused to cooperate — they concluded that if you can’t catch dinner, you might as well make up a story. After all, men have been doing this during millions of fishing trips since the invention of fire.

And so, elephant soup was born … or hatched … or … whatever! This delight is a dish designed to be not eaten but discussed at length while eating something far more practical, like beans or fry bread.

Over time, the recipe has evolved. By the 1800s, it became a staple at royal banquets where it was never served but always listed on the menu to impress guests. (“Ah yes, I’ll have the elephant soup. … Oh, you’re out? Of course you are.”)

Ingredients (all perfectly edible, technically)

To make a proper pot of elephant soup, you will need the following eight ingredients:

• One medium elephant (free-range), cut into bite-size pieces

• 3 cups of lukewarm tap water (for authenticity)

• A handful of marshmallows (to cut down the gaminess)

• 2 tablespoons of peanut butter (for irony)

• One slightly confused zucchini (isn’t it obvious why?)

• A pinch of salt (harvested from your tears)

• 4 sprigs of parsley (that nobody will eat)

• One bay leaf (which you will forget to remove)

Instructions

1. Begin by placing your elephant into a stock pot. If your pot is not large enough, you may substitute it with “creative denial” or you can raid your grandmother’s basement. She has lots of dented and cracked pots lying under layers of dust down there.

2. Add the lukewarm water and bring it to a gentle simmer. If nothing appears to be happening, congratulations — you’re doing it correctly.

3. Stir in the peanut butter while contemplating your life choices. This step adds depth, confusion and a mild sense of panic.

4. Toss in the marshmallows. Watch as they dissolve into a sticky reminder of every text message you wish you hadn’t sent. Make sure you taste test it to see if the gaminess has been reduced.

5. Chop the confused zucchini into uneven pieces. It won’t understand what’s happening, but frankly neither will you. Once you have decided that you would rather be doing anything else, you have chopped it up enough.

6. Add the parsley for decoration. Remove it later when someone asks, “Why is this here?” Don’t forget to snort in disgust, just to help make yourself feel a bit more superior.

7. Sprinkle in the salt. If you don’t have tears handy, store-bought is fine, but it lacks authenticity and hysteria.

8. Finally, drop in the bay leaf and promise yourself you’ll remember it. You won’t.

Let the soup simmer for approximately 6 – 8 months, or until your guests begin to suspect this is all a joke.

Serving suggestions

Elephant soup is best served in very large bowls, preferably ones that make people uncomfortable. Ladle generously, ensuring that each serving contains an equal portion of “what exactly am I eating?”

Pair with a crusty loaf of bread, a strong beverage, and a backup dinner plan.

For presentation, garnish with a sprig of parsley and a confident explanation. Confidence is key. If you say, “This is a traditional dish,” people will nod politely and eat something else.

Final thoughts

Elephant soup isn’t really about the ingredients, the process or even the final product. It’s about ambition. It’s about looking at an impossible task and saying, “Sure, let’s write that recipe down.” Most of all, it’s about annoying your guests. But then, you didn’t invite real friends over to serve them elephant soup.

So the next time you find yourself staring into your fridge, wondering what to make, remember: You probably don’t have what it takes to make elephant soup.

And that’s OK.

Because neither does anyone else. But if that’s the case and you are lacking a medium elephant, you can always substitute a baby hippopotamus.