With this weekends weather so wet and rainy I think it calls for a pot of chicken soup. Mom always made chicken soup growing up, especially if you were sick. I hated it as a kid. Never liked eating it. But if you were sick, you had to. As I got older, actually just in the last couple of years I started enjoying it. I can remember one day John and I decided to make a pot of chicken soup. Well, we decided to make it our way. Bow tie pasta, cut up cooked chicken and well just a few vegetables. Mom liked it but it wasn't done her way. John and I thought it was great. So one day I hear Mom on the phone with John's Mom, Palma and do you know what they were talking about....that's right, our chicken soup creation. How we did this, how we didn't do that, yada, yada, yada. Well tomorrow I plan on putting up a pot of soup. Not sure if I will make it my way or Mom's. I have made it since Mom's passing and I will admit that I have even put parsnips in. I always accompany my soup with tuna fish sandwiches, served Mom's way and the only way on Pepperidge Farm bread...Yum!
Making the soup brings a smile to my face. It makes me think of Mom. It's so weird how I actually like to cook now. I guess it makes me feel close to Mom and that's all that matters.
~Christine
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