The Tub-O'-Soup Greeting

The cheese soup refugee

December 21, 2016, WAIKALOA, HAWAI'I—In celebration of completing two years of high-pressure work in the Atomic City, we fled to the islands for some rest and relaxation. The temperatures at home had plunged into the low teens, so the thought of being lulled into a state of supreme relaxation by warm winds, humidity, and softly waving hibiscus and bougainvillea flowers was particularly appealing. Instead, our island greeting was an immense tub of broccoli cheese soup.

This culinary orphan had been marooned and abandoned by the previous tenants of the condo we have rented. And while there's a certain generosity in me that gives the previous owners some credit for not wanting the plastic Tub-O'-Soup to go to waste—instead of pegging them as lazy and harried people who hadn't planned well enough to dispose of the item before they fled just minutes before checkout time—I cannot, for the life of me, understand why in Hell anyone would want to eat broccoli cheese soup procured at Costco while staying on the islands in the first place?

Baptism in the sea: Be healed, sinner! Be healed!

It is a magical time in Hawai'i right now. And this island paradise is alive with the holiday spirit. The summit of Mauna Kea is covered in deep snow, and yesterday, while at the beach, we stared up in wonder at the handiwork of the Hawaiian snow goddess, Poli'ahu, who, according to local lore, controls the northern end of the Big Island and keeps Goddess Pele in check there. As people who come from a land of fire and ice, we will not choose sides while on this island, but instead we will marvel at the beauty that has resulted from the interplay of these two deities. Already we have feasted on local lime and papaya, apple bananas, pineapple, of course, sweet Hawaiian breads accented with the purple starch of taro root. Such delicacies would not be possible without the cascade of snowmelt across the harsh lava landscape, and the kiss of the sun. 

Rest and relaxation are in order

Or maybe that's just the rum talking. The drinks on this island are as beautiful as the landscape, and tropical fruits mix well with fermented sugar. The man in the car rental place admonished us from going to Starbucks—sound advice that we would have taken on our own—and instead to support the local economy. It is in this spirit that we laid in a fine bottle of Hawaiian-made Maui gold rum, a mountain of fresh local fruit, deliciously strong Kona coffee grown just down the coast from us, bags of macadamias, and Meadow Gold yogurt—old-school stuff flavored with tropical produce and produced right here on the islands.

We won't be finding the time to eat the broccoli-cheese castaway that welcomed us here, because that's something we can do if we choose back home. Our homage to mainland life will be rounds of golf on the resort course. I am pleased to say that it has only been a short while since I last checked in at work, but already the bags and dark circles under our eyes are starting to fade, we are growing some melanin content in our skin again, and the Vitamin D deficiencies that had resulted from spending our days under artificial lighting are starting to reverse their course. This is no time for store-bought soup.

Aloha, and we will see you down the road!