Every Sunday we visited my granny for our Sunday dinner. Myself and four of my cousins. Every week it was the same menu. There was a large tureen of boiled potatoes and another tureen of of some kind of soup or broth.

My granny always called it "remanded soup" but nevertheless we devoured it with relish. Although the soup always tasted the same there was a kind of magic about it, especially when we dropped a few boiled potatoes in it.

As we grew older we began to ask questions, one of the questions was "why do you call this remanded soup granny". "I'll tell you why," she said, "I always make it on a Saturday, then I remand it for a day because I know you vultures are coming up the next day. So I remand it overnight."

Then it made sense of course, but it tasted just as great as when we knew it only as "remanded soup".

Tommy

Guid we tale Tommy
Gettin' pit oan remand will noo have a different meaning tae me.
Speakin' o' soup
Here is a wee song frae one of my Favourite writers, Shel Silverstein.

I swear you could taste the chicken and tomatoes
And the noodles and the marrowbone
But it really wasn't nothing but some water and potatoes
And the wonderful, wonderful soupstone

Hanging from a string in my mama's kitchen, back in the hard time days
Was a little ol' stone 'bout the size of an apple, it was smooth and worn and grey
There wasn't much food in my mama's kitchen, so whenever things got tight
Mama boiled up some water, put in the stone and said "Let's have some soup tonight"

And I swear you could taste the chicken and tomatoes
And the noodles and the marrowbone
But it really wasn't nothing but some water and potatoes
And the wonderful, wonderful soupstone

It had been in the family for a whole lotta years, so we knew it was a nourishing thing
And I remember mama, as she stirred it in the water, and we could all hear her sing
"Its a magical stone and as long as we got it, we'll never have a hungry night
Just add a little love to the wonderful soupstone and everything will be alright"

And I swear you could taste the chicken and tomatoes
And the noodles and the marrowbone
But it really wasn't nothing but some water and potatoes
And the wonderful, wonderful soupstone

So it carried us all through the darkening days, 'til finally the sunshine came
And the soupstone started into gathering dust, but it hung there just the same
And ever since then the food's been plenty, but every now and then I find
That mama in the kitchen with the wonderful soupstone, drifts across my mind

And again I can taste the chicken and tomatoes
And the noodles and the marrowbone
But it really wasn't nothing but some water and potatoes
And the wonderful, wonderful soupstone

I like that