Senate Bean Potpie

The week after Thanksgiving is for leftovers and reflection. I had enough turkey to last until Tuesday, enough brisket for the rest of the week, and enough spring rolls to fill exactly zero containers because Mai's spring rolls do not survive a gathering. They are consumed completely, like a natural resource that cannot be replenished until the next event.

Made turkey pho on Sunday — shredded leftover turkey in a ginger-star anise broth with rice noodles and the usual herbs. It's not traditional. It's not even Vietnamese, really. It's what happens when a Vietnamese-American man has leftover smoked turkey and a craving for pho. The smoked turkey gives the broth a depth that regular poached chicken can't match — the smoke flavor infuses the liquid and adds a layer that makes people tilt their heads and say "what is that?" It's twelve hours of oak and five hours of cherry. That's what that is.

Lily called Monday. She sounded energized. She and James had spent Thanksgiving talking about the restaurant concept with Emma and Daniel, and apparently the conversation had gotten specific: a name, a location preference (Montrose, near her current job), a preliminary menu. She asked if she could bring a written proposal to me next month. I said of course. The fact that she's formalizing it — writing it down, treating it like a business plan rather than a dream — tells me she's serious. The fact that she's bringing it to me first tells me she wants my scrutiny, not my approval. Good. She'll get both, in that order.

Bought Mai's Christmas present this week — a new pho pot. Her current one is forty-five years old and the bottom is warping. She will refuse the new one. She will say her old pot is fine. She will be wrong. The new pot is heavy-gauge stainless steel, twenty quarts, with a thick bottom for even heat distribution. It's the kind of pot that will outlive all of us, and that's exactly the point.

AA meeting Tuesday. The holiday meetings are always the hardest — Thanksgiving and Christmas are when the most people relapse, because family stress and old patterns and the specific loneliness that holidays amplify. Bill and I stay after to clean up and talk to anyone who needs to talk. Two guys stayed this week. We listened. That's the job. Listen. Be present. Show them that sobriety is survivable. Show them that the holidays don't have to end the same way they used to.

The turkey pho lasted two days. By Wednesday I needed something different but equally grounding — something that simmered low and slow and filled the house with that same kind of warmth. This Senate Bean Potpie is that kind of dish. It’s the post-holiday meal for after the post-holiday meal: simple, substantial, the sort of thing you eat while thinking about Lily’s restaurant proposal and whether Mai will accept a new pot.

Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 15 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 40 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 pound dried navy beans, soaked overnight and drained
1 smoked ham hock (about 1 pound)
1 medium onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium carrots, peeled and diced
2 stalks celery, diced
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
4 cups chicken broth
1 bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Salt to taste
1 sheet frozen puff pastry, thawed
1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)

Instructions

Cook the beans. Place soaked navy beans and ham hock in a large pot. Cover with chicken broth and enough water to submerge by 2 inches. Add the bay leaf and bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 45 minutes to 1 hour until beans are tender. Remove ham hock, shred the meat, and discard the bone. Reserve 3 cups of the cooking liquid.
Build the filling. In a large oven-safe skillet or Dutch oven, melt butter over medium heat. Add onion, carrots, and celery. Cook for 5–7 minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more. Sprinkle flour over the vegetables and stir for 1 minute to form a roux.
Combine. Gradually stir in the reserved cooking liquid. Add the cooked beans, shredded ham, thyme, and pepper. Stir gently and bring to a simmer. Cook for 5 minutes until the filling thickens slightly. Season with salt to taste. Remove bay leaf.
Top with pastry. Preheat oven to 400°F. Roll puff pastry to fit the top of your skillet or divide filling among individual ramekins and cut pastry to fit. Lay pastry over the filling, pressing edges to seal. Cut 3–4 small slits in the top for steam. Brush with beaten egg.
Bake. Place in the oven and bake for 25–30 minutes until the pastry is puffed and deeply golden brown. Let cool for 5 minutes before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Senate Bean Potpie — A Warm Bowl for the Week After Thanksgiving