Whatever...

One of the more satisfying and soothing activities for me when v has been sick is cooking large pots of soups.  The last time we went through this sort of illness I rediscovered an old typewritten recipe of my father's.  He got it from a radio program he listened to.  Not being Italian he wrote the name the way he heard it, and decades worth of friends and family have known this heavenly soup as Pasta Fazul.  

When I first told v I would fix this venerable old Italian dish, he was completely mystified by the title.  It must have come from a region of Italy unknown to him.  However, once he read the list of ingredients he corrected our mistake.  He claims the true name is Pasta Fagiole, which may have come across those radio waves from an L.A. broadcaster as Fazul, or F'zool.  Thankfully, once it was prepared, we didn't care what it was called.  He loves it as much as I always have.  

For a little clarification on the photo above, my father's recipe is resting on a platter that holds nothing that goes into the soup.  It was a really late night when I was preparing it and the platter just held up the recipe.

In bocca al lupo.  m & v