Mushroom soup will always and forever take me back to when I was a little girl. When I was sick, my own super momma would make cream of mushroom soup, and she would bring it to my bedroom on a tray so I could slurp it from under the covers. Oh, how I love her. … Continue reading »
Ah, Fat Tuesday. Mardi Gras, as most folks would say. How I love the sweet aroma of gumbo and king cake. And there’s something so satisfying about making a cow out of myself for this one day since I can justify it by sacrificing something monumental over the next 40 days. Like caffeinated sodas, for instance. That’s … Continue reading »
