Two weeks. Two weeks until I walk out of that kitchen for the last time. I am counting the days the way a prisoner counts and also the way a bride counts — with dread and anticipation in equal measure. I will miss it. I will miss the five a.m. drive. The industrial ovens warming up. The clatter of trays. The sound of four hundred children eating at once, which is a sound like rain on a tin roof — constant, alive, beautiful in its chaos.
I've been cooking extra at school this week. Not because the menu requires it — because I need to. I need to stand in this kitchen while it's still mine and cook the way I cook: with generosity, with excess, with the belief that there should always be more food than needed because you never know who will come through the line hungry. I made homemade rolls on Monday — not part of the menu, just because. The children went wild. Rolls are underrated, baby. A warm roll with butter is a revolution in the palm of your hand.
The virus is here. Cases in the US. Cases in Georgia. The school is sending home letters about handwashing. The teachers are nervous. The parents are nervous. I am nervous in a different way — not for myself, but for the children. If the schools close, who feeds the hungry ones? Who gives Devon and Jaylen and Destiny and all the children like them the meal that might be the only good one they get all day? The school cafeteria is the safety net nobody talks about. If it closes, children fall.
Kayla called Friday night. She said Memorial is preparing for a surge. She said they're converting wards. She said the nurses are scared. My granddaughter is scared, and she is the bravest person I know, and if she's scared, then this is real.
I made chicken soup. The healing kind. The one with extra garlic and extra ginger and the prayer stirred into the broth. I made a double batch. One for me. One for Kayla. One for whatever is coming.
Now go on and feed somebody.
When I say I made the healing kind, this is what I mean — thick with white beans, extra garlic, every bit of warmth I could pack into a pot. Turkey Bean Soup has fed my family through hard winters and hard news for thirty years, and when Kayla called scared, it was the first thing my hands knew to do. I sent a container home with her Sunday and kept one on my own stove, and I am sharing it here because somebody reading this right now has a person they love who needs feeding, and this soup will do the job.
Turkey Bean Soup
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 lb ground turkey
- 1 large yellow onion, diced
- 5 cloves garlic, minced (add more — I always do)
- 3 stalks celery, sliced
- 3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into coins
- 2 cans (15 oz each) cannellini or Great Northern beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, with juices
- 6 cups low-sodium chicken or turkey broth
- 1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for serving
Instructions
- Brown the turkey. Heat the olive oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the ground turkey and cook, breaking it up as you go, until no pink remains, about 6–8 minutes. Season with a pinch of salt and pepper.
- Build the base. Add the onion and celery to the pot. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion is soft and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant. Do not rush this step — the garlic is doing the healing work.
- Add the vegetables. Stir in the carrots, diced tomatoes with their juices, Italian seasoning, and smoked paprika. Let everything cook together for 2 minutes so the flavors can get acquainted.
- Add beans and broth. Pour in the broth and add the drained beans. Stir to combine, then raise the heat to bring the soup to a boil.
- Simmer. Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover partially, and simmer for 25 minutes, until the carrots are tender and the broth has deepened in color. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
- Serve. Ladle into bowls and finish with fresh parsley. This soup keeps well in the refrigerator for 5 days and freezes beautifully for up to 3 months. Make a double batch. You’ll be glad you did.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 230 | Protein: 21g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 620mg