Best Copycat Zuppa Toscana

One week. Seven days. Clay's unit flies into Fort Campbell on September 25th. I will be there. Connie will be there. We will stand on the tarmac or in the gym or wherever they put the families, and we will wait, and the plane will land or the bus will arrive, and Clay will walk off, and I will see him, and the fourteen months will collapse into the distance between his feet and mine, and I will close that distance, and I will hold my son.

I'm cooking ahead. The freezer is a fortress of food: three quarts of chili, two quarts of chicken and dumplings, a gallon of pulled pork, containers of stewed tomatoes, bags of soup. The refrigerator has fresh supplies: milk, eggs, butter, buttermilk (for the biscuits — I'm going to make the biscuits the morning he comes home and they are going to be one hundred percent. Not ninety-eight. One hundred. This is the batch. This is the one. Betty said "stop trying so hard" and I'm going to stop trying and just make them and they are going to be perfect because my son is coming home and perfection is the minimum acceptable standard for the biscuits that welcome a soldier).

Betty called. She said "Bring him to Evarts. Bring him to me. I want to see him." I said "I will." She said "I'll make fried chicken." I said "We'll be there." She said "Craig." She paused. Betty never pauses. "He's going to be different." I said "I know." She said "He came out different too." She meant me. After the collapse. I came out different. Changed. Harder in some places, softer in others. The mine didn't just take seventeen hours. It took a version of me and replaced it with another version, and the new version was the one who married Connie and raised children and cooked soup beans and started a blog. The new version was better in some ways and broken in others. Clay will be the same. A new version. Better and broken. Both.

I made soup beans on Monday. The last Monday before Clay comes home. The last Monday of the empty chair. Next Monday — next Monday — Clay will be here. At this table. In that chair. With a bowl of soup beans. And Monday will be Monday again. Complete. Full. Right.

I’ve been making soup beans — real Appalachian pinto beans, cooked low with a ham hock until the broth goes silky and the whole house smells like something that matters — every Monday for as long as I can remember. It’s tradition, and tradition is what holds you together when fourteen months feels like a canyon. But this Zuppa Toscana is what I turn to when I want that same deep, sustaining warmth with a little more heft to it — the sausage, the potatoes, the cream all doing the same work my soup beans do: filling the room, filling the belly, making the house feel less empty. It’s what went into the freezer fortress right alongside the chili and the chicken and the pulled pork, because Clay is going to need feeding in every possible direction, and a pot of this is a fine place to start.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 lb Italian sausage (mild or hot), casings removed
4 slices bacon, chopped
1 medium yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
6 cups chicken broth
2 cups water
4 medium russet potatoes, unpeeled, thinly sliced (about 1/4-inch rounds)
2 cups fresh kale, stems removed, roughly chopped
1 cup heavy cream
Salt and black pepper to taste
Grated Parmesan, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Brown the sausage and bacon. In a large Dutch oven or stockpot over medium-high heat, cook the chopped bacon until crisp. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside, leaving the drippings in the pot. Add the Italian sausage and cook, breaking it up with a spoon, until browned and cooked through, about 6–8 minutes. Drain excess fat if needed, leaving about 1 tablespoon in the pot.
Soften the aromatics. Reduce heat to medium. Add the diced onion to the pot and cook until softened and translucent, about 4–5 minutes. Stir in the garlic and red pepper flakes and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant.
Build the broth. Pour in the chicken broth and water. Stir to combine, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot.
Add the potatoes. Add the sliced potatoes. Bring the soup to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat to medium and simmer for 15–20 minutes, until potatoes are fork-tender.
Finish with kale and cream. Stir in the kale and let it wilt, about 2–3 minutes. Reduce heat to low and pour in the heavy cream. Stir gently to combine. Return the reserved bacon to the pot. Taste and season with salt and black pepper.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with grated Parmesan if desired. This soup holds well in the refrigerator for up to 4 days, or freeze in quart containers for up to 3 months.

Nutrition (per serving)

Best Copycat Zuppa Toscana — The Last Monday Before Clay Comes Home