"Yes. Feel them."
I cried when I learned you were a boy.
"Mama I've never seen you cry."
Dash pats the tears into the skin under my eyes as if he's applying a very special cream.
"I had a hard day, Dash. Dance with me."
I cried when I didn't want you to come out of me.
"Mama, are you crying because you missed me today?"
"Oh Dashi, I did miss you today. But that's not why I'm crying. Please dance with me."
I cried when I first held you.
"Well, mama, I had a hard day too."
"Tell me. What happened?"
"Well, I was barefoot."
"Yes?"
"And I stepped on this pokey thing."
I cried when I weaned you.
He shakes his head, remembering the horror of it all.
"Dash. My day was harder than yours."
I cried when you did a front flip out of your crib.
"Wait, mama, there's more. I was playing with Eric and you know that girl Rose?"
"Yes."
"Well, she told me that if I touched a certain digging toy that I would die."
I cried when I dropped you off at preschool for the first time.
"Okay. Your day was hard."
"Yes," he starts to cry. "And I don't want tomorrow to be so hard."
I cried when that little shit at school called you stupid.
I grab him by the wrists and he scampers up my body, legs monkey-wrapping around my waist. We dance, our faces smashed together, butterfly kissing, real tears mixing with real tears.
I cried when I realized my main job was to keep you alive.
"Dash, I've been told my whole life that soup can make you feel better."
We scour the kitchen and gather the scrappy, the limp, the sprouting, the freezer-burned, and the long-forgotten odds and ends.
And we make some motherfucking soup.
serves 4-6
This soup is very easy to make. You can soak beans overnight or just used any canned/jarred white beans. Find every vegetable scrap in your fridge from old onions slices to wilted bok choy to rubbery carrots to a stump of brown fennel. All should go in. All will taste good. This is the template.
ingredients:
4 slices bacon
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 onion, peeled and diced
6 carrots, peeled and diced
4 stalks celery, diced
salt
4 anchovy fillets
4 cloves garlic
3/4 cup white wine or Lillet Blanc
12 yukon gold or German butterball potatoes, peeled, halved, and sliced
8 white turnips, peeled, halved, and sliced
8-10 cups liquid (any combination of chicken stock, vegetable stock or water)
parmesan rind
2 cups white beans (navy, cannellini, great northern, or butter)
6 sausages (raw or pre-cooked)
1 head kale (or any hearty green like chard, spinach, bok choy, or collards)
salt
pepper
lemon juice
sherry wine vinegar
chopped parsely
parmesan
cooked bacon, chopped or crumbled
directions:
In your soup pot, fry up the bacon until crisp. Remove bacon and place on paper towel. Pour out all but 1 tablespoon of bacon fat. Add olive oil. Over medium heat, add onions, carrots, and celery. Add big pinch of salt. Cook until tender (about 10 minutes).
While the vegetables are cooking, make a puree out of anchovies and garlic (with mortar and pestle or a chef knife on a cutting board). Add puree to vegetables. Cook over medium heat for 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Add white wine. Cook down for a minute. Add potatoes and turnips. Add enough stock and/or water so that the vegetables are covered. Throw in a parmesan rind. Bring to the boil. Turn down to a simmer. Cover and cook for 20 minutes. Add white beans and cook for another 20 minutes with the lid off. You want the potatoes, turnips, and beans to start to fall apart and thicken the soup.
Fry up the sausage in a separate pan until almost cooked through. Slice and add to the soup.
Stack all the kale leaves. Slice into 1"pieces. Add to soup. Cover with lid for two minutes until kale is wilted.
Stir. Taste. Add salt, pepper, lemon juice, and/or sherry wine vinegar.
Serve topped with chopped parsley, parmesan, bacon, olive oil, and crunchy salt.
It's always tastier and thicker the next day. Freezes beautifully.



Another beautiful post. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteMy little one turn 6 months old today... And I cried.
i always cry on my kids' birthdays. i wonder if it will ever stop?
DeleteNo ... and I'm making soup tomorrow.
Deletereally? crap. that sucks. not the soup part. the crying part!
DeleteI cried when I learned my son was a boy. And I made some motherfucking soup today. Nice post. You're a good mom.
ReplyDeletei wanted another girl so badly. what was i thinking? and yea for motherfucking soup!
DeleteMakes me want to make some motherfucking soup and nuzzle my son too. Love your writing.
ReplyDeleteI would read this blog greedily if it had no recipes at all. The fact that the recipes are (almost) as intriguing and satisfying as the writing is...incredible. I look forward to re-reading your post when I cook this!
ReplyDeleteYes, I hate to admit it. Sometimes I just skim the recipes and eat up the writing instead.
ReplyDeletemy husband won't read the recipes. he skips over them!
DeleteI love recipes like this. I hate days like that. Both I suppose both help you feel that you're alive. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThanks. You always hit it. I am such a fan.
ReplyDeleteI always love your writing (and recipes). Motherfucking soup to the rescue! Made me laugh (after wanting to cry a little myself).
ReplyDeleteI may be 8 months pregnant with my second son, but this made me teary eyed at work. I hope the soup helped and really there is nothing better than sweet little legs wrapped around your waist!
ReplyDeletethe soup helped a lot. and i keep making it. i'm worried i'm just going to be posting about soup for the next month! and it's 75 degrees here today.
DeleteI love your writing...
ReplyDeletethanks, M. and you know what i think of your photos. holy shit, they're awesome.
DeletePhyllis, this post just about destroyed me. And it also reminded me of another fiercely articulate west coast writer Knopf is publishing: Cheryl Strayed. Can I send you a copy?
ReplyDeletethank you, pam. you know this blog wouldn't exist without you. i know you understand what i mean!
Deleteand i love cheryl strayed's writing. crazy cool that this post made you think of her. an honor.
Love love your writing!! Sorry you had a hard day. Soup is one of the best cures, especially making it with your precious boy.
ReplyDeleteMama's tears, mutha-fuckin soup, a little boy's love, and good writing - such a soulful read.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteYour writing blows me away. I can't wait to make this soup!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. You made me cry.
ReplyDeletePhyllis ... seriously. I can't get enough of your blog. Your recipes are always wonderful, no doubt, but your writing??? Your writing is inspiring and just plain incredible. LOVE.
ReplyDeleteyour comment made me cry. you caught me off guard. omg. no more crying! but thank you.
DeleteYou are awesome. I am just about to pick up my son from school because of some mean little kids. Your soup looks delish. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteOMG! Now I did cry!
ReplyDeleteI'm just catching up here. Should I start at the beginning or continue reading in reverse order?
-Alyssa
oh no. don't start at the beginning. i'd say read back a few posts and hopefully by then i'll have a new post up. parenting and crying and cooking. story of my fucking life.
DeleteThank you for all.
DeleteJust discovered your blog. I think you are a very talented cook, photographer, mom and writer... Thanks for sharing this post, you made my day.
ReplyDeletewow. that's quite a list. very moving to hear. thank you.
Delete