Thumbing through the yellowed recipe cards from years back, I can see glimpses of times gone by — the ingredients, the lingo, and the simplicity. I loved the stains and crinkles on the cards, thinking of busy hands pulling them out of the box, hurrying to get dinner served on time. My grandmother ate poor man’s soup, but there is only a richness in the care, creativity, and even worry people faced, and still face today, about nourishing their families.