There's nothing like the cold of winter to make you yearn for a bowl of soup. My mother, not the best cook in the world, only knew how to open a can of Campbell's. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I still love me a bowl of plain old cream of tomato. But, my grandmothers both made soup from scratch. From the Eastern European-Jewish side we'd get matzo ball, kreplach and mushroom barley. From the Gentile Western European side we'd get czarnina (duck blood soup), liver dumpling and goulash.