All day long I’d been anticipating dinner. The stockpot is filled with ham and bean soup. Simmering through the day, it filled the house with a homey aroma–a perfect compliment to the crisp autumn weather. It smells like my mom’s used to–hearty, wholesome, and flavorful.
Taste-testing confirmed that it is indeed seasoned to perfection, but suddenly it sounds awful for dinner. I want something mexican and fried.
My dear, sweet, husband must love me bunches, because when I was chuckling about it with him he asked if I’d like him to get take-out. What a man! What a fickle wife! What a great sport he is to accommodate his fickle wife!.
The ham and bean soup will taste even better tomorrow after flavors mingle overnight in the refrigerator.