By September is almost here and I'm already dreading and anticipating my birthday. Sixty-five. The official "senior" age, though I've been acting like a senior since I was forty because Southern grandmothers don't wait for permission to be old. We just start feeding people and telling them what to do, and eventually the calendar catches up.
Denise wants to do something. I said, "Denise, we are in a pandemic." She said, "Mama, we can do something outside." She's right. Outside, with space, with masks, with common sense. A porch party. A yard party. Something small and safe and stubbornly celebratory because this family does not let a virus cancel a birthday any more than it lets a virus cancel Easter or the Fourth of July. We have standards. Our standards include cake.
The garden is giving its last. The Sapelo peppers are all harvested — I made two more bottles of Pearl sauce, bringing the total to five. The tomatoes are slowing down, getting smaller, that end-of-season exhaustion that I understand in my bones. The herbs are still going strong — basil, thyme, rosemary — because herbs are stubborn and I respect them for it.
I recorded two more stories this week: okra soup (Pearl's, from Sapelo, the one that changed everything) and red beans and rice (the Monday tradition, the democracy of beans). Kayla is up to thirty typed pages. She brought the printed pages to the porch and I read them in the September light and I thought: this is a life. These pages are a life. My life, and Mama's life, and Pearl's life, told through food. Thirty pages. More to come.
Made Brunswick stew. The big-batch kind. Pulled pork, chicken, butter beans, tomatoes, corn. Simmered all day. Left half on Miss Corrine's porch. Ate the rest over three days. That's the rhythm now: cook a lot, eat a little, deliver the rest. The rhythm of a woman who cooks for love and eats for survival.
Now go on and feed somebody.
The Brunswick stew is what started it, but the white bean and ham soup is what I keep coming back to when my heart needs something steady. Beans have always been Monday food, democracy food, the kind of thing that feeds six people and costs almost nothing and asks very little of you except time—and time I have, especially now, when the garden is winding down and the stories are piling up and sixty-five is right around the corner waiting on me. This one is made the same way I made that stew: a big pot, half for here, half for somebody else’s porch.
White Bean & Ham Soup
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 30 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 45 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 lb dried great northern or navy beans, soaked overnight and drained
- 2 cups cooked ham, diced (or 1 meaty ham hock)
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 3 stalks celery, sliced
- 2 medium carrots, peeled and sliced
- 6 cups low-sodium chicken broth
- 2 cups water
- 1 bay leaf
- 1/2 tsp dried thyme
- 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 1 tbsp olive oil
- Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish
Instructions
- Soften the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion, celery, and carrots. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 6–8 minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more.
- Add the ham and beans. Stir in the diced ham (or nestle in the ham hock). Add the soaked, drained beans and stir everything together so the flavors start to get acquainted.
- Pour in the liquid. Add chicken broth and water. Stir in the bay leaf, thyme, and smoked paprika. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a steady simmer.
- Simmer low and slow. Cover partially and cook for 1 hour to 1 hour 30 minutes, until beans are completely tender and creamy. Stir occasionally and add a splash of water if the soup thickens too much.
- Finish and season. Remove the bay leaf (and ham hock if using, pulling any meat off the bone and returning it to the pot). Taste and season generously with salt and black pepper. For a creamier texture, use the back of a spoon to mash some of the beans against the side of the pot.
- Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh parsley. Serve with cornbread or thick slices of toasted bread. Leave half on a neighbor’s porch. That’s not optional.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 24g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 10g | Sodium: 620mg