Beginnings

It was tradition in my family that soup was served almost every Sunday. There were probably only a few Sundays that I really don’t remember a pot of soup being on our stove top. On those Sundays, we were probably taking a trip down to Rivesville, West Virginia to visit with my Grandma, who probably had that pot of soup on, or at the least homemade bread to sink our teeth into.

Mom would put a pot of soup on early in the morning, and by noon it was time to sample the wares. You could tell time at our house by the Sunday plan of meals. A lot of them were based on the time of a Sunday football game on TV. Soup was always served as the noontime meal on Sunday, followed by a hearty meatloaf, roast beef, stuffed cabbage, chicken paprikas or the such at suppertime (usually around 4 o’clock).

Sundays seemed like all we did was eat and relax.

After returning from mass, we would have breakfast. One of my favorite Sunday breakfasts’ was palachintas (yum). Then off for the noontime, one, 2 o’clock soup feast. Then, you would wonder how you would be hungry for supper at 4 or 5 o’clock. Amazingly, you were.

There were times I would remember that if there wasn’t enough roast beef to make you content, Mom would give you a slice of bread on your plate and cover it with gravy (Gravy Bread). What an added feast we thought we were getting. Little did we know that there probably wasn’t enough meat for seconds, and who cared, because there was always plenty of gravy for that oh so special Gravy Bread.

I really don’t remember a lot of desserts. I know we probably had them from time to time, but even if there were, I don’t know how one would find, or want to find, the room to fit in.

Well, all this talk is making me hungry. Now that you have the water turned on, let’s do something with it.