5-Ingredient Potato Soup

New Year's Eve. The end of 2020. Good riddance. At Ma's. The family. La Croix at midnight. The photo frame scrolling through a year that nobody wants to remember but everybody survived. 2020 in review: Ma got COVID and survived. The restaurant was signed, built halfway, and frozen. The pop-ups continued (nine total across the year). The Bobby Tran BBQ brand went from a local thing to an internet thing. The rub sold 12,000 jars. The Instagram hit 95,000 followers. Emma's videos taught a million people to cook. Tyler committed to being a pitmaster. Lily became a CEO. Also: I stayed sober. Eleven years. In a pandemic. Through isolation and fear and parking lots and screen doors and the specific loneliness of feeding people you love from a distance. Bill, on the Zoom meeting the week before Christmas, said: "This was the hardest year for sobriety that any of us have faced. If you're sober tonight, you've done something extraordinary." He's right. The pull was there — not the pull to drink (that faded years ago) but the pull to numb. To check out. To close my eyes and let the pandemic happen without feeling it. Cooking kept me present. The fire kept me awake. At midnight: La Croix toast. Tyler said, "To 2021." Ma said, "To the vaccine." Emma said, "To the restaurant." Lily said, "To 100K followers." I said, "To the fire." To the fire. The fire that has burned in my backyard for twenty years. The fire that outlasted a divorce, a drinking career, a shrimp boat, a hurricane, and a pandemic. The fire that turns raw into ready, cold into warm, alone into together. 2021. The year the restaurant opens. The year the world comes back. The year the fire gets a permanent home. I believe this because I have to. Because belief is the fuel and the fire is the engine and the road goes forward even when you can't see where it ends. Made chao at 1 AM. Tyler was still awake. We ate it together at Ma's table while she slept in her chair. The rice porridge of endings and beginnings. The food that says: whatever came before, this bowl is now. This moment is now. This is enough. 2021. Here we go.

Chao — Vietnamese rice porridge — is what I make when I don’t have words left. It’s the food my mother made when someone was sick, when something hurt, when the year needed to end. That night with Tyler, what mattered wasn’t the recipe; it was the warmth in the bowl and another person across the table. This 5-Ingredient Potato Soup carries that same spirit: minimal, grounding, honest. If you’re reading this after a hard stretch of road, make this. Sit down. Let it be enough.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 lbs Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes
1 medium yellow onion, diced
4 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
1 cup sour cream
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
Optional garnish: sliced green onions, shredded cheddar, cracked pepper

Instructions

Simmer the base. Add the diced onion, cubed potatoes, and broth to a large pot over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium and simmer uncovered for 18–20 minutes, until the potatoes are completely fork-tender.
Mash or blend. Use a potato masher to roughly mash the potatoes directly in the pot for a chunky, rustic texture — or use an immersion blender to puree until smooth, depending on your preference. Leave some texture if you like something that feels more like a meal.
Stir in the sour cream. Remove the pot from heat. Stir in the sour cream until fully incorporated and the soup turns creamy and slightly thickened. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Rest and serve. Let the soup sit for 2–3 minutes — it thickens as it rests. Ladle into bowls and top with green onions, cheese, or whatever you have on hand. Eat it warm, at a table, with someone you’re glad is still there.

Nutrition (per serving)

5-Ingredient Potato Soup — The Bowl That Says This Moment Is Enough