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Cream of Walnut Soup — The Soup That Watches Over You

The temperature dropped to thirty-seven degrees on Wednesday night, which in Savannah constitutes an emergency. People break out the parkas they bought on sale in 2004. The space heaters come out of closets. And I make soup, because cold weather and soup are married and cannot be separated.

She-crab soup. The winter version — richer, creamier, with extra sherry because the cold demands it. I made a pot on Thursday and brought it to the church ladies' meeting, and Gladys tasted it and closed her eyes and said, "Dot, that is sin in a bowl." I said, "Thank you, Gladys." She said, "I didn't say it was a compliment." I said, "I know what you meant." We are sixty-three years old and seventy-one years old respectively, and we have been doing this since Reagan was president.

Kayla brought Devon to the house again this weekend — not Sunday dinner, just a Saturday visit, casual, which means it's getting serious because casual visits are more intimate than formal dinners. Devon brought me flowers. Grocery store flowers, but flowers. He sat in the kitchen and asked me about the cast iron skillet, and I told him the whole story — Hattie Pearl's mother, the generations, the seasoning that has never seen soap. He listened. Really listened. Not the way young men listen when they're waiting for their turn to talk, but the way you listen when you understand that an old woman telling a story about a skillet is actually telling you the story of her life.

I like Devon. I have decided. Three Sunday dinners was my threshold and he's now past five, and the flowers sealed it. I haven't told Kayla yet because my approval should arrive like Christmas — anticipated, inevitable, but still a gift when it comes.

Made potato soup for Earl. Plain, simple, heart-healthy. Potatoes, leeks, a touch of cream, chicken broth. He ate it without complaining, which means his breathing was bad enough that he didn't have energy to argue about the food. I noticed. I always notice. I noticed and I made a second bowl and I sat beside him while he ate, and I pretended I was just keeping him company, and he pretended he didn't know I was watching him breathe.

Now go on and feed somebody.

The potato soup I made for Earl was plain on purpose — leeks, broth, just a whisper of cream — because sometimes love means leaving the sherry out. But when I’m feeding myself, or Gladys, or anyone who doesn’t need their soup to be worried about them, I reach for something richer. This Cream of Walnut Soup is that kind of soup: deeply savory, a little unexpected, the sort of thing that makes a person close their eyes on the first spoonful and not say anything for a moment. It’s what I make when the cold comes in hard and I want something in the pot that feels like it means something.

Cream of Walnut Soup

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 cups walnut halves, divided
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 stalks celery, chopped
  • 4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
  • 1 cup heavy cream
  • 2 tablespoons dry sherry
  • 1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground white pepper
  • 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
  • Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
  • 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley, for garnish
  • Drizzle of walnut oil or olive oil, for serving (optional)

Instructions

  1. Toast the walnuts. In a dry skillet over medium heat, toast 1 3/4 cups of the walnuts for 4 to 5 minutes, stirring frequently, until fragrant and lightly golden. Set aside. Reserve the remaining 1/4 cup walnuts for garnish, roughly chopping them.
  2. Saute the aromatics. In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, for 6 to 8 minutes until softened and translucent. Add the garlic and thyme and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
  3. Add the walnuts and broth. Stir the toasted walnuts into the pot. Pour in the chicken broth and bring to a gentle boil. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes to allow the flavors to meld and the walnuts to soften fully.
  4. Blend until smooth. Remove the pot from heat. Using an immersion blender, blend the soup directly in the pot until completely smooth and velvety, 2 to 3 minutes. Alternatively, carefully transfer in batches to a countertop blender, venting the lid to allow steam to escape, and blend until smooth. Return to the pot.
  5. Finish with cream and sherry. Return the pot to low heat. Stir in the heavy cream and dry sherry. Season with salt, white pepper, and nutmeg. Simmer gently for 5 minutes — do not boil after adding the cream. Taste and adjust seasoning.
  6. Serve. Ladle into warm bowls. Garnish with the reserved chopped walnuts, a scatter of fresh parsley, and a light drizzle of walnut oil if desired. Serve immediately with crusty bread or crackers alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 370 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 34g | Carbs: 10g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 390mg

Dorothy Henderson
About the cook who shared this
Dorothy Henderson
Week 142 of Dorothy’s 30-year story · Savannah, Georgia
Dot Henderson is a seventy-one-year-old grandmother, a retired school lunch lady, and the undisputed queen of Lowcountry cooking in her corner of Savannah, Georgia. She spent thirty-five years feeding schoolchildren — sneaking extra portions to the ones who looked hungry — and now she feeds her seven grandchildren every Sunday without exception. She cooks with lard, seasons by feel, and ends every recipe the same way her mama did: "Now go on and feed somebody."

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