I guess of all of the things I like the most is a soup my Mother made and I still do.
I like it so much my (I'm full now and it doesn't taste as good) thing doesn't kick in.
My body wont tell me to stop.
It would start with one of those huge granite kettles you use to cook tomatoes down in.
In would go either ground meat or big chunks of beef from the farm.
Next would be potatoes carrots celery garlic paprika peppers onions sweet peas corn tomatoes I mean the whole garden would go in this huge kettle.
All of the vegetables would be cut in big chunks.
Then it would just sit on the stove and slowly simmer.
She would come along every now and then and taste it and maybe add something.
I remember there would be lots of black pepper and it would settle on the bottom in a layer.
When it was served it would be so hot I would add milk to it to cool it off.
I would sit there and eat till I couldn't swallow anymore.
I liked it with celery salt and garlic powder added to it.
Of course the huge pot had to cool off so as the day went along I would go get another bowl.
I always felt like it was a sad day when it finally played out and there wasn't anymore.
I could eat it every day.
The very first thing I ever cooked on my own in my own place was this soup and I ended up feeding a whole pile of guys with it.
The wolfed it down like it was the best thing on earth, and you know what, 'it is.
If anything can bring back memories it is that huge kettle of soup.
My wife would say how on earth can you eat that every day you have made enough for an army.
You have been eating it for a week.
Comfort food indeed.
Worth