Soul food of ones childhood
Why did it always seem that in order for me, as a child, to enjoy the food I was eating it had to have come from some sort of a package perhaps a box or can. Mom could have slaved all day in the kitchen to prepare a nice garlic roast with mashed potatoes and fresh vegetables, and yet the irresistible taste of powdered, process cheese sprinkled over soggy noodles and splattered with Heinz ketchup …
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