Basil Tortellini Soup

The week after Thanksgiving. The house has returned to its two-person configuration and the refrigerator is full of everything that the feast left behind. Turkey soup from the carcass has been the lunch of the week, and it has been excellent each day, improving as it always does as the broth deepens and the flavors consolidate. Thursday's lunch was the best, the broth reduced a bit and intense and the noodles soft in the way that day-old noodles get soft in soup, which is not a flaw but a characteristic.

I have started the Christmas preparations. The maple candy will begin this weekend — I make the hard candy first because it keeps the longest and ships well, and some of it goes to Portland for Sarah's family before Christmas. My grandmother's molds. My grandfather's syrup, approximately — the method is his even if the trees are now mine alone. One hundred pieces this year, in the small maple leaf shape and the large star. Helen says this is excessive. I say it is exactly sufficient. This disagreement, which has occurred every December since 1981, has produced no compromise on either side and I see no reason to begin compromising now.

Ben called Saturday — not his parents, Ben himself, aged five, on the family phone. He had been in school for a whole semester now and wanted to tell his grandfather that he had gotten the highest grade in his class on a reading test and that his teacher said he read at a "second grade level" which was apparently the best possible news from kindergarten. I said that was excellent. He said he read a whole book yesterday. I asked what book. He said it was about a dragon. I said was it a good dragon? He said yes, it was friendly but misunderstood. I said this was a great subject for a book. He said yes. He said Grampy, do you have books at your house? I said I have about two thousand books at my house. He was quiet for a moment and then said I want to see them. I said come visit and you will. He said okay. This is a contract. I intend to keep it.

The turkey soup will not last forever, and when it is gone I do not intend to return abruptly to sandwiches. This basil tortellini soup is the bridge — a pot that comes together quickly on a weekday, rich and savory in the same register as everything I have been eating since Thursday, but built fresh rather than from what was left behind. Ben’s call is still with me, and there is something right about making a warm pot of soup in a house that feels full even when it is quiet.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium carrots, sliced into rounds
2 stalks celery, sliced
6 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
9 oz refrigerated cheese tortellini
1 teaspoon dried basil (or 2 tablespoons fresh, chopped)
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
2 cups baby spinach or chopped fresh spinach
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, torn, for finishing
Parmesan cheese, for serving

Instructions

Sauté the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion and cook until softened, about 4 minutes. Add garlic, carrots, and celery and cook another 3 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Build the broth. Pour in the broth and diced tomatoes with their liquid. Add dried basil, oregano, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes, until carrots are just tender.
Add the tortellini. Stir in the tortellini and cook according to package directions, typically 5 to 7 minutes, until the pasta is tender and cooked through.
Finish with greens. Add the spinach and stir until just wilted, about 1 minute. Taste and adjust seasoning. Remove from heat.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and finish each with torn fresh basil and a generous grating of Parmesan. Serve with crusty bread if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Basil Tortellini Soup — The Soup That Carries the Week Forward