Bread and soup, soup and bread…that’s dinner around here on winter nights. Everybody wants a hot meal but nobody wants to bother about it too much. Husband might be relaxing with a book – the Little One giggling on the phone with a friend – and I peering earnestly into the screen, too wound up with some project to start banging pots and pans around in the kitchen. What will we eat? Well, bread and soup.
Which I’d cooked earlier, when energy was running higher and there seemed to be more time. I set a plate with two kinds of cheese next to the bread, and call the hungry ones to the table.