https://www.warhol.org/art-and-archives/
I was teenager when I first learned about Andy Warhol. If the internet existed in the late eighties/early nineties, I didn't know about it. If I wanted to learn more about something, I'd go to the library and flip through the wooden card catalog that sat just beyond the front desk and right before the main room of books. I'd open a drawer and the scent of old wood and worn paper would waft out like spirits of all the authors contained within. Eventually, I'd come to know the sections and where I could go and browse my personal interests. Warhol, Andy. Contemporary of John and Yoko. New Yorker. Celebrated for his unique appearance and quirky persona. Warhol, Andy who could elevate a single yellow banana or soup can into art.
There were no smart phones either, and even though I did have a camera back then, I did't carry it everywhere. It used 110 film and had limited lighting capabilites. Also, I was a child without much money to burn on film, so I wasn't taking foodie photos at every whim. But I thought about it. Every time my mother dragged me to the store, I thought about making pictures of those red and white soup cans neatly stacked and forward facing. The grocery store was no longer just a chore, but a chore with the possibility for art.
Campbell's soup wasn't merely a work of art I associated with Warhol, though. I ate a fair amount of it, too. Classic Chicken Noodle, Chicken and Rice, Chicken and Stars, Bean with Bacon (which I didn't really like, but tried to like because my older cousin did), Vegetable, and Cream of Potato were usually found in the pantry. As I grew up, I veered away from Campbell's toward other brands, but I'd still play around with the Cream of Potato from time to time. I started to think of the can of soup as a base which could be elevated by adding some garlic or rosemary or grated cheese. It was a cheap and easy meal made a little better.
As I was thumbing through the recipe box this time, I came across Stir-Together Soups featuring the one and only Campbell's. I had just come off a weekend of soufflé making and wanted something easy. When I added rosemary and garlic to the canned Cream of Potato, it was transformed into something less tinny with more depth of flavor. Maybe this recipe would be another transformative soup experience. I chose Vegetable Cheese Chowder.
This recipe card is another in which there are multiple options on the print side. This one, unlike Winter Salad Variety, at least showcased one of those options in the photo.
The recipe calls for Cream of Chicken, so I'm not sure why it isn't called Chicken Vegetable Cheese Chowder. Maybe that title was too long. I'm vegging it out, so I chose Cream of Mushroom to replace the C of C. It also calls for a 10oz package of frozen vegetables, a few ounces of shredded cheese, and milk for preparing the soup as directed. That's it. You've basically got a recipe made from canned soup enhanced with frozen veg and a sprinkle of cheese to garnish. To its credit, it has several food groups represented. It is affordable. It is efficient. I could imagine myself as a child eating this. (Insert flashback music and wavy lines) Yes, there I was sitting down on a tweed-covered chair at the long oak table my parents had when I was a kid. Mom always kept that table covered with a tablecloth, the padded plastic kind with a 1970s floral print. There I was, my long, black hair pulled back in a ponytail, eating this Vegetable Cheese Chowder out of a glass bowl with a green-lined rim. I probably would have liked it. (End flashback scene)
My 2020 self thought it tasted like a tinny can of soup and frozen veg. It wasn't terrible. It wasn't great, and I wouldn't make it again, but it wasn't terrible. It was, however, inspirational.
I kept thinking this recipe might be on the cusp of something good. I thought that maybe I could start with the Cream of Mushroom base and add fresh vegetables instead of frozen. I could top with some sour cream or crème fraîche instead of shredded cheese. Maybe I could even do away with the condensed soup base and start with basic veg broth, make a roux, add milk, boil a potato, sauteé it with carrots, onions, celery and summer corn. I could add some spices and combine all that to make a chowder from scratch. I could do it. With no recipe. Maybe. Probably. Sure. Why not? Who am I?
I had made soups from scratch before, but I used a recipe. I had never made up a soup without step by step instructions and a prepared list of ingredients. Look at me now! Making soups like a boss!
Maybe not a top boss. Maybe a middle managerial boss. Some of the veg got a little too caramalized, but that was the only real downfall. They didn't have a burnt taste, but some of the veg wasn't photo-worthy. I really wanted to take a photo. When I had made gazpacho, the recipe I used said to put half of the veg chunks in the food processor (I sometimes will refer to this as a wazzer for future reference.) This added a thickness and creaminess without actually adding cream. Might as well try that. I wazzed up some of the caramalized veg and got out a couple new vegetables to prepare with a keener eye. I was able to get chowder that was both heartier in appearance and more satisfying to eat. It turned out to be a happy accident. The good flavor of the caramalized veg was there, but the unphotogenic dark spots were gone. The chowder was thicker without having to add more cream. Next time, I would leave out the cayenne pepper and try for a nicer color of broth. Brown isn't visually appealing for a soup, and all those cooking shows say, "We eat with our eyes first." This photo of the homemade chowder isn't going to make it into the Andy Warhol museum anytime soon, or ever, but if Andy was still alive and stopped by for lunch, I wouldn't be embarrased to serve it to him.
Recipe as listed 2 red spoons
Recipe inspired soup 3-4 red spoons
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