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About Recipe

I remember always having liked soups. Toasty warm, still steaming, soups that huddle, feeding, giving life and pleasure. My mother made many times, it was a rare day that there was a bowl of soup in at least one meal back home. And often this soup was served as a main meal, a richer soup, and heavy, the soup to the farmer, with pasta and beans, cabbage and pumpkin, my father loved always end with a piece of bread with cheese or sausage to which he called "conduit".

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