Spinster’s Soup

Sam Lesek

 

A hexed recipe given to you by the widow of a woods witch. Originally concocted to break

a betrothal, this simple soup is best served to unwanted suitors. Its bitter, earthy aroma is

punctuated by floral notes.

  • Mention of possible non-consensual contact

Ingredients

  • 8 cups of bog water

  • 3 carrots, snapped like old bones

  • 1/2 cabbage, chopped

  • 1 tablespoon of powdered rose thorns

  • a blessing from Artemis

  • salt, to taste

Directions

  1. Assemble ingredients prior to cooking; the baron’s son will be back, even though you insisted that you weren’t interested in any man. Not that you’re interested in women or anyone else, for that matter.

  2. He will force his way inside your home the next you see him. Insist you must cook him a meal before he touches you. Remind him how far he’s travelled, how hungry he must be.

  3. Pour the bog water into a cast iron pot. Bring to a boil. Your unwanted suitor will complain about the smell, at first. Tell him the broth will make you amorous.

  4. Add the powdered rose thorn to cover the smell.

  5. As the new scent lulls him into a trance, beseech Artemis for her blessing and bring the soup to a simmer.

  6. Snap your three carrots as if they’re his bones. Watch as his body writhes and contorts. He may break the trance and begin to scream. It’s too late for him now. His limbs are no longer his own. Add broken carrots to the soup. Simmer for thirteen minutes.

  7. Add the chopped cabbage. As its leaves wilt in the broth, his skin will stretch itself anew over his freshly formed bestial bodies. Stir the soup to prevent it, and your guest, from boiling over.

  8. Keep stirring and simmering until he’s unrecognizable. The meal is ready once he is no longer human.

  9. Add salt to taste.

  10. Serve the soup in a wide bowl for the new guests you now have at your table. Watch as the crows peck the bowl in search of carrion, the mice as they lap the soup with their tiny tongues, and the assorted amphibians as they stretch to feel the familiarity of the bog in the broth.

About the author:

 

Sam Lesek lives in Toronto, Canada. Her writing has appeared in various speculative anthologies and magazines, including Luna Station Quarterly, Utopia Science Fiction, and 34 Orchard. She enjoys cooking recipes of the unhexed variety. Find her on Twitter @SamLesek 

This site is a speculative fiction project.

Do not make any of these recipes.

They’re impossible, dangerous, and not tasty.