I'm home today enjoying my first of two Thursday's off a month and it's cold and rainy outside. After catching up on a few things, I had an early lunch which was the last of a vegetable soup that I made at the start of the week. As a kid growing up and even now, homemade soup on days like this is a perfect comfort food. My Mom had no recipe when she made vegetable soup. That was because it depended on what was leftover in the refrigerator--Green beans or corn and just about everything else from a previous nights dinner, would all be added and served in white porcelain bowls with wide rims along with cornbread on the side. As we were enjoying a bowl of soup on the first night, I had that overwhelming desire for cornbread. It was so powerful in fact, that I made a pan just so I could eat a huge wedge warm from the oven at ten o'clock that night. Talk about a memory in a bowl of soup--but those memories are among the best part of my life.