Creamed Peas and Mushroom Soup

~ Ellie

Okay, if ever there were a title more gag-inducing, at least for me, this would be it. I’ll tell you (mercifully briefly) why.

Creamed peas
Creamed peas
Photo (cc) by jeffreyw
  • Re: creamed peas. In 1957-8 the girls in my Willingdon School grade seven class and I happened to have a sadistic cooking teacher in Home Ec. I say that because she not only forced us to make a creamed peas ‘side dish’ – which my Jewish mom never in her life made, since white sauce was apparently considered Christian slop, er, I mean food – but she also made us EAT it. I won’t go into any more detail regarding this odious and embarrassing event.  Suffice it to say I never combined such ingredients again in my (almost non-existent) cooking career.
  • Re: mushroom soup. Not that I was ever forced to cook this, mind you, but I think just the sight of it must’ve brought back memories of that awful event above, and therefore I never even attempted to make it or taste it. I apparently passed down my dislike to my kids (unfortunately?)… so that whenever I decided I would order pizza for supper, and they asked me what we were having, I’d say with a mischievous twinkle in my eye, “Mushroom soup!” They’d go, “Yayyyy!” They knew right away I meant pizza. It was a code word, see?

I guess ya hadda be there! 😀

23 thoughts on “Creamed Peas and Mushroom Soup”

  1. Christian slop! Hahahaha! I’d have to agree. Growing up the daughter of two depression era Catholics I can say I’ve had my fair share of creamed everything. I have a fond affection for things like this, but I understand how others may not. It’s an acquired taste.

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    1. The mushroom soup seems odd, since you’ve told me you only like *fresh* mushrooms. I would think the ones in the soup have been processed out of their little minds. If they had minds. 😂

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  6. How amusing! I’ve had all kinds of food, but this would not have been the worst for me. I nominate tongue as being the grossest main dish I ever had to eat. Believe me, I would not have had a code word for it, just a gagging noise.

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  8. I pour cream of mushroom soup over chicken and bake it up! It’s Awesome.
    In your case, I guess it was all in the presentation—that junk in the photo would run away any kid and most adults 🙂

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  9. My 1960s mom was always cooking (I would say now, “assembling”) various Kraft, Heinz, and Campbell Soup products into our suppers. It took me quite a while into adulthood before I understood that you could make soup from scratch! Mushroom soup with peas on toast was a go-to for her (with canned tuna)

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  10. When I was 8 and 9 years old i was often sent to play with my cousins on saturday mornings. they lived in the upper part of a duplex overlooking van horne park. in winter my aunt would let us watch cartoons and then send us out with our skates to the rink until she yelled or whistled for us from the balcony to come in for lunch. i dreaded the event because all too frequently she made campbell’s mushroom soup and the smell that filled my nostrils from the steps outside the front door was beyond repugnant. to me the odor of that soup, together with that of boiled hotdogs at cbb are amongst the worst culinary experiences of my childhood. i doubt i ever swallowed the soup, and in my second month at cbb when i was 9 or 10 when i refused to go into the dining room, the consequence was to be sent to see the psychologist. how logical is that?

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    1. HAHAHA, oops, I’m sorry, it’s your last sentence that got me! The psychologist! Get out! Okay, but I gotta ask- did he help you learn to like food you detested?! I’m thinking: No! Geez. Well in light of that, I’m really glad my parents didn’t send me to sleep-away camp!! 🤣

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      1. actually i remember him and just how frustrated i felt that he wasn’t taking at face value what i was saying. (my father had died a few months before and i guess given that info he supposed my refusing to go inside the dining hall was me acting out or something like that.) what’s even more baffling to my adult self is remembering how angry he was when i told him i didnt like him when he said I had a big nose! could be that my memory of this interchange is skewed or false. but it is how i remember the series of events. otherwise i liked camp a lot and went for many years, becoming a pioneer and a c.i.t. and then working at the waterfront. so much for MY story of mushroom soup and hot dogs.

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        1. Hm, well if you continued going to camp for so many years, I’m assuming you got over your boycott of the dining hall. 😁 As for Mr. Psychologist, someone should’ve quoted Freud’s words to him: “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”

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