It wasn’t until high school that I began to crave the comfort of creamy tomato soup after Mom started buying Progresso’s hearty tomato. My favorite was Mom’s chunky beef stew that simmered and bubbled on the stovetop for hours in our small yellow duplex kitchen back in Minneapolis. The flavors never seemed to call for me, nor did I ever crave grilled cheese.
When I was younger, I despised tomato soup.
