Slump Soup

A meditation on soup for when it all feels so heavy

Start by cutting some vegetables. This is a scientifically proven method of tricking yourself into cooking dinner, btw. Once you’ve cut up some veg, something simply has to happen. Eating them raw is always an option. But so is soup. Because if soup can be anything, then maybe soup can save our souls (cue Jewel).

If cooking feels like a burden and a blessing on a good day, then in our world of unending unprecedented times, that duality feels even sharper. The distraction from life is a big reason I gravitated towards cooking in the first place. I think I’ve said this before, but if your hands are sticky and covered in schmutz, it’s much harder to be on your phone. Which is why I’m making soup today.

Three days ago I realized that I wasn’t following my own advice anymore. I caught myself propping my phone up on a sweet potato so I could catch up on the days horrific news while peeling carrots. Two birds, one nightmare.

That is so not normal. It’s also not normal to bear witness to murder, kidnapping, and genocide while stirring a pot of beans or waiting for pasta water to boil. How privileged am I that I simply have to have worry about these horrors, not experience them firsthand.

I don’t think cooking needs to always be a sacred act. Often times we just need to cook and eat for sustenance. But this feels different. If I’m cooking while doomscrolling past the worst humanity has to offer, then that moment has a direct line to my central nervous system. It feels tainted in the same way that I feel consumed by what I’m seeing with my eyeballs. And then I consume that meal! I feed that meal to my family.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my 16+ years of cooking, it’s that how we feel while cooking plays a role in how food tastes. I don’t have the science or data to back that part up. But I like to think we’ve all experienced how joy, love, and hope are all transmutable through food on a plate, so it’s not hard to imagine the other end of the spectrum can also be true.

Time is precious. But so is our ability to nurture ourselves and our families. In my own search for intentionality, I’m using the new year as a reset on my habits. If I want to protect my cooking from the horrors of the world, I have to commit to that protection.

Slump Soup is my contribution to anyone who wants their hands busy but doesn’t have it in them to follow a real recipe right now. I promise you can make this soup.

Start by chopping some vegetables. I love you.

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Slump Soup

Aromatics like onion, garlic, shallot, green onion, leek

Hearty veggies like carrot, radish, cabbage, fennel, celery, cauliflower, potato, sweet potato

Things that will season the broth like tomato paste, red pepper paste, miso, gochujang, bouillon, bone broth, stock, whole spices like coriander, fennel seeds, cumin seeds, black peppercorn, star anise

Salt

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• Heat a medium pot with a little olive oil, toss in some aromatics and stir

• After a couple of minutes, toss in whole spices, any pastes and stir to heat through (20-30 seconds is great)

• Add in all remaining chunky veggies and enough broth, stock, or water with bouillon to cover completely. Crack a lid on there and heat to a simmer. Even the heartiest veggies will be soft after 30 minutes. Taste, season, turn off the heat. Soup is ready.

• Make couscous to spoon the soup over

• Boil water. While that is heating up pour dry couscous into a small pot that has a tight fitting lid (or a plate that fits snug) add a couple drizzles of olive oil, salt and turmeric to the couscous. Cover with boiling water until the grains are swimming just under the surface. Stir with a fork, cover and let sit for 10 minutes. Fluff with a fork.

• Serve in a bowl with a big ladle of soup on top.