Soup Friday: Netflix Bites - Preacher’s Classic Tomato Soup
As I wandered through the vast interior of the King of Prussia Mall, I marveled at all the unique luxury boutiques. I quickly became enticed by the alluring attire each shop sold. Unfortunately, this soup reviewer lacked the necessary big bomboclaat swagger to rock a Bob Marley-inspired Jamaican soccer jersey, the yee or the haw to sport some sleek leather cowboy boots from Tecovas, and the $1600 in funds to purchase a debonair Armani light-blue checkered blazer. To prevent myself from making a recklessly impulsive decision that would have a devastating effect on my bank account, I tilted my head up, keeping my sightline above the view of storefronts, and started power walking like a granny.
After walking a thousand more steps than previously anticipated and coming to the realization that I had parked on the complete opposite end of the mall from where I was heading, I finally reached my penultimate Soup Friday destination of the season: Netflix Bites. Instantly, I became entranced by the flashing neon signs that illuminated the dim restaurant space and also showcased well-known characters and quotes from original Netflix programming. Unsurprisingly for a white guy in his early thirties, I became engulfed by a wave of childlike giddiness when I spotted the I Think You Should Leave and BoJack Horseman signs. Disappointingly, I saw no Tires décor, which one would expect given both the mall and the show’s setting are both located in the Valley Forge area. If you can believe it, I was unable to locate any lights or decorations alluding to House of Cards or Kevin Spacey.
I took a seat at the fittingly-colored red-and-white-glowing bar. I ordered a lager and grinned as the beer was placed on a coaster featuring the guards’ helmet shapes in Squid Game. I grabbed a menu resting half-open to my left and glanced through it. For someone who’s only watched one season of Stanger Things and a handful of the other premier series on Netflix over the past few years, I did fairly well at recognizing show references by just reading each item’s corny description. However, I had no clue what Preacher’s Classic Grilled Cheese & Tomato Soup was referencing. Utilizing the research skills I gained in grad school, I discovered on Google that there’s apparently a show, currently in its seventh season, named Virgin River that features a character nicknamed Preacher. For those wondering, the item’s description did not mention the popping of cherry tomatoes in their preparation of the soup. Since it was the only soup on the menu, I ordered it, but I was astonished there was just one option, especially given the plethora of soups cameos in Netflix shows.
“Chicken Noodle to F3.”
“When my tongue burns for a soup that does not feel the same.”
₩45.6 billion goes a long way in soup money these days!
One of my most controversial soup opinions has to be my distaste for tomato soup. Oddly enough, I love a creamy tomato soup and believe it has one of the highest floors among soups. However, for regular tomato soup, I find that its taste at best to be just okay and always leave unsatiated after eating it on its own. Its best application is as a flavor-enhancing dipping sauce for a bland grilled cheese sandwich. Speaking of, I also detest the idea of ordering a plain grilled cheese at a restaurant. It’s one thing if there’s a cheap option for it at a diner on a rainy day or if you’re eight years old, but in most cases, it’s an overpriced, greasier version of what you’re capable of making in your own kitchen.
As I awaited my meal, I explored the expansive Netflix House complex further. While their soup variety may be lacking, Netflix House features a variety of entertaining activity spaces for fans of different popular shows. These included a mini golf course that highlights several different shows across its nine holes, a One Piece-themed escape room, a VR laser tag-like experience, and a spooky Wednesday-themed carnival. All visitors can go to the gift shop to purchase a souvenir to remember their experience and help pay for the Christmas bonus of a needy Netflix executive.
I returned to the bar at the exact moment my food arrived. Given my aforementioned opinion on tomato soup, my expectations were quite low. After one brief glimpse at my plate, I grew even more pessimistic. A demitasse cup filled with what looked like an affront to spaghetti sauce neighbored a stack of two thick grilled cheese halves. Begrudgingly, I lifted up my spoon and tried the “soup.” Immediately, I recognized the familiar taste of mediocre marinara sauce that one could acquire at their local pizza shop or convenience store. I willingly took the liberal approach and counted this sauce as soup, but in no reality or the Upside Down could classify it as good soup. The occasional bits of tomato and added garlic amplified it slightly, but it felt impossible to escape the feeling of myself just feasting on a cup of dipping sauce. A couple of spoonfuls later, I imagined how the conversation likely transpired for the origin of this tomato soup.
Out-of-their-depth Netflix C-Suite Representative - “What if you made a marinara soup?”
Qualified Chef – “I like it. So, you’re thinking a new thicker take on the classic tomato soup, right?”
Out-of-their-depth Netflix C-Suite Representative - “Nope, just marinara. Remember, we’ve got to save a few bucks where we can so subscription fees only need to rise by 20% this year. I like the tomato name though. Let’s go with that!”
Technically, there were a couple of giant cheese sticks on the plate as well, so I inspected if this tomato soup could at least pass the dipping sauce sandwich enhancement test. It passed, but not in the traditional sense. Instead of soaking the bread with its flavor like a classic tomato soup would, Netflix Bite’s tomato soup lingered on top of the sourdough’s exterior and I unintentionally created a deep-dish pizza. On a positive note, I’ll admit, I thought the towering, cholesterol-packed grilled cheese sandwich with its grease coating every inch of the bread and its cheese oozing out of every gluten-laden orifice was delicious. Could I have made it at home? Probably, but I’d most likely need to buy my local grocery store’s entire stock of butter and oil to make an accurate replica. Additionally, I appreciated the arbitrary inclusion of four tiny gherkins on the side. However, they were extremely salty and contained a texture that provoked the thought of eating a sea star’s arm.
To any fans of popular Netflix shows, I would recommend travelling out to King of Prussia and experiencing the Netflix House. Let’s just hope they abruptly cancel the tomato soup like they’ve done with so many of their other shows.