Split Pea Soup with Ham

December 2022. Lily and Ben were back from Albuquerque, officially moved to Norman, getting settled before her position started in January. She drove up to see the land the week before Christmas and we walked the creek together on a cold afternoon with the sky gray and the timber dormant. She moved through it slowly, stopping to look at things, picking up a hickory leaf, bending to examine the limestone in the creek bed. She has the observation habits of a scientist now layered over the observation habits of someone who grew up on this land. It's a useful combination.

She told me about her research at OU—it would focus on traditional foodways in Oklahoma tribes as they intersect with land rights and sovereignty. She said my food journal, which she'd been reading in segments I sent her, was an example of exactly the kind of primary documentation that the academic field lacks. She asked if she could cite it eventually. I said yes and didn't know exactly how to feel about that.

Christmas was at the land for part of the day—we built a fire and ate lunch outdoors even though it was very cold, because I wanted to establish the habit. Cold outdoor fire lunches at the Kenwood land are going to be a tradition now whether anyone else agrees or not. Lily wrapped herself in two blankets and ate bean bread and said she loved it.

Hannah got me a new food journal for Christmas—a proper hardbound one, blank pages, the kind meant to last. On the first page she'd written: "For the food that survives us." I've been thinking about those five words ever since. For the food that survives us. That's it. That's the whole thing.

Bean bread was what I had that afternoon, wrapped in blankets by the fire, but split pea soup has lived in the same corner of my cooking mind — the corner reserved for things that are old and plain and quietly nourishing, the kind of food that doesn’t need defending. Hannah’s inscription stopped me cold: for the food that survives us. Split pea soup survives us. It was here before we were paying attention and it will be here long after. That’s enough reason to write it down.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 30 min | Total Time: 1 hr 45 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 lb dried green split peas, rinsed and picked over
1 lb ham bone or 1 1/2 cups diced cooked ham
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 medium carrots, peeled and diced
3 stalks celery, diced
8 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 bay leaf
1/2 tsp dried thyme
1/4 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp salt, or to taste
1 tbsp olive oil

Instructions

Saute the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large heavy pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion, carrots, and celery and cook for 6–8 minutes, stirring occasionally, until softened. Add garlic and cook one minute more.
Add peas and broth. Stir in the rinsed split peas, chicken broth, bay leaf, thyme, and black pepper. Add the ham bone or diced ham and bring everything to a boil over medium-high heat.
Simmer low and slow. Reduce heat to low, cover partially, and simmer for 60–90 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the peas have broken down completely and the soup is thick and creamy.
Remove the bone and shred. If using a ham bone, remove it from the pot, pull any meat from the bone, shred it, and return the meat to the soup. Discard the bone and bay leaf.
Season and serve. Taste and adjust salt as needed. Ladle into bowls and serve hot, with crusty bread on the side if you have it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Split Pea Soup with Ham — The Food That Survives Us