Larry FloerschHere we are in the middle of yet another cold/flu/COVID-19 season, with rising numbers of infections. We know numbers are rising not by the old-fashioned practice of counting heads in emergency rooms or empty desks in classrooms, but by genetically testing the wastewater flow at our sewage treatment plants. Call me an unscientific wienie, but I’d rather count heads. Still, I have an increasing dread of even going into my own living room, much less the supermarket, and I sometimes find myself in a wormhole of spacetime that takes me back to the nostalgia of childhood. Or maybe I just have a fever?
My mother was a typical stay-at-home mom. Like all good moms in the middle of the last century, she had at her disposal a powerful arsenal of cold and flu remedies.
Some of those “cures” were more dreaded than the disease. One that my brother and I thought was particularly vile was Vicks VapoRub, which she slathered onto us like she was preparing piglets for an event at a county fair. As the winter wore on, our clothing became increasingly saturated with petrolatum, which is just a fancy word for “grease.” I’m really surprised we didn’t spontaneously combust by late February. To this day the aroma of Vicks VapoRub sends me scurrying for a hiding place.
A much more comforting “cure” was Mrs. Grass Chicken Noodle Soup. In our minds it was almost worth contracting the bubonic plague to get some, because it did not appear on the family menu except when we were sick. Not only did we find it good — who could resist the flavors of salt, maltodextrin, polysorbate 80, propylene glycol, disodium guanylate, disodium inosinate, dried chicken, and did I mention salt? — but Mrs. Grass soup mix also had something that fascinated us kids: a “golden egg,” or, as the company called it, a “golden flavor nugget.”
The golden egg, probably made from mucilagic polyhydromucosal trisodium or something like that so it would dissolve completely in boiling water, contained a large amount of chicken bouillon flavor and what I would like to believe was a hefty dose of chicken fat, better known in certain circles as “schmaltz.” As every grandma — Yiddish or otherwise — knows, schmaltz is what gives chicken soup its curative powers.
My brother and I would often engage in physical combat over who would get to drop that golden egg into the boiling soup, that is, if we could get a grip on each other because of the grease and get past the aroma of the VapoRub.
I guess Mrs. Grass soup is still available somewhere, but, alas, according to information on the web the golden egg was dropped in 2016. Given our current political fascination with ignoring the victories of science, how long will it be before a social movement begins to bring back the golden egg and replace the flu vaccine with Mrs. Grass Chicken Noodle Soup?
According to recent reports, the soup maker Progresso is not waiting around for such a movement to form. To increase the public’s desire for soup, and to honor National Soup Month 2025 (who would have guessed there is a National Soup Month every January?), Progresso launched an intriguing new chicken soup product: ‘Soup Drops.’ That’s right. Soup Drops!
Soup Drops are, according to promotional literature from Progresso, “soup you can suck on.” No bowl or spoon required. The Soup Drops come in only one flavor, chicken noodle, and the 20 individually wrapped drops are delivered in a cardboard container that looks just like a regular Progresso soup can. It even has a tabbed aluminum pop top for those of us who really enjoy cutting our fingers on sharp can lids.
Per the literature, the hard-candy–like drops give you all the flavors you’d expect from a can of Progresso Chicken Noodle Soup: “broth, savory veggies, chicken, soft egg noodles, and a hint of parsley.” Although the press releases did not mention other ingredients, judging from the pods’ appearance in on-line images, I am pretty sure mucilagic polyhydromucosal trisodium is involved in the manufacturing process.
The folks at Progresso assure us the drops can be enjoyed anywhere: “in the carpool line, during a grocery run, while folding laundry, sitting at the doctor’s office, or hiding out under the covers” (which is where I would be if there is any Vicks VapoRub around!).
No mention was made by Progresso whether the Soup Drops contain schmaltz and can therefore actually cure a cold or flu. And if you are already ill and looking for a cure, you may be out of luck. As of this writing, the limited-edition product has sold out twice. It is not clear whether more Soup Drops will be available in the future.
According to the on-line reviews I’ve seen, it may be a blessing the pods are sold out. Some food writers sort of enjoyed the drops — one claiming they tasted like sucking on a chicken bouillon cube. Another was somewhat more restrained in his praise and titled his review “I’d rather be sick than eat Progresso Soup Drops ever again.”
What to have for dessert after a meal Progresso Soup Drops? I don’t know about you, but I’m going back through the wormhole for a box of Smith Brothers Wild Cherry Cough Drops.
