By Carrie brought home a permission slip this week for a field trip to the Gullah Geechee Cultural Center on St. Helena Island, and I signed it with a pen that felt heavier than usual, because St. Helena Island is twenty minutes from Beaufort, and Beaufort is where everything I am began. I told Carrie about the Gullah culture — the basket weaving, the rice cultivation, the connection to West African foodways that runs through Lowcountry cooking like a river beneath the surface. She listened with the focused intensity she brings to everything that interests her, which is either everything or nothing, with no middle ground.
"Did Grandma Carolyn learn to cook from Gullah people?" she asked. I told her that Mama learned to cook from her own mother, who learned from hers, and that the Lowcountry cooking tradition is a braid of influences — West African, British, French, Caribbean — and that untangling them is less important than understanding that the food carries all of them. Carrie nodded and wrote something in her journal. She has been keeping a journal since January. I have not asked to read it. Some territories are sacred.
I drove to Beaufort on Saturday to visit Mama and Joy. The drive takes two hours, and I have made it so many times that my hands know the route without instruction — south on Highway 17, then the turnoff toward the islands, the road narrowing as the marsh opens up on both sides, the egrets standing in the shallow water like white punctuation marks in a green sentence. Mama was cooking when I arrived. She is always cooking when I arrive. This time it was okra soup — the thick, dark, deeply savory soup that takes half a day and tastes like the earth itself decided to become edible.
Joy was in the living room watching a cooking show. She looked up when I came in and said, "Naomi!" with such uncomplicated joy that my chest ached. She is forty-three and she says my name the way she said it when she was ten, before the bicycle and Route 21 and the car that changed everything. I sat with her and we watched the cooking show together. The chef was making something French and complicated. Joy said, "Mama's is better," and she was right, about everything, always.
I noticed that Mama's kitchen was not as organized as usual. A pot left on the wrong burner. Spices not in their regular places. Small things that might mean nothing or might mean the beginning of something I am not ready to name. I reorganized the spice shelf while Mama wasn't looking and told myself it was just a messy day. Everyone has messy days.
Back in Charleston, I made a simplified version of Mama's okra soup — not as good as hers, never as good as hers, but close enough to bring Beaufort into my kitchen for an evening. Robert ate two bowls and asked about Mama and Joy. I told him they were fine. I did not tell him about the spice shelf. Some worries need more evidence before they become words.
That night in Charleston, standing over a pot that smelled like Beaufort, I understood why I reached for this recipe and not another—it was the closest thing I had to sitting in Mama’s kitchen, where everything was still in its right place. Making her okra soup by memory felt like an act of holding on, a way of keeping things organized when I couldn’t do anything about the spice shelf I wouldn’t stop thinking about. Here’s the version I’ve made my own over the years, built on what she taught me.
Acorn Squash Soup
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 1 hr | Total Time: 1 hr 10 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 4 pounds whole acorn squash (or 5 cups squash puree*)
- 2 shallots
- 1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for drizzling
- 2 tablespoons curry powder
- 1 tablespoon garam masala
- 1 teaspoon cumin
- 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon cayenne (depending on your spice tolerance)
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1 quart vegetable broth
- 1 cup coconut milk
- Fresh cilantro, for the garnish
- Crispy Quinoa (optional), for the garnish
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Preheat the oven to 450°F.
- Roast and puree the squash. Chop each of the acorn squash in half. Using a spoon, scrape out the seeds. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, place the squash on the sheet and drizzle with olive oil on the cut sides, then sprinkle with kosher salt and pepper. Turn cut side down on the sheet and roast until tender, about 35 to 40 minutes. When the squash is done and cool enough to handle, remove the flesh from the skin. Then use an immersion blender, blender or food processor to puree it. Measure out 5 cups.
- Sauté the shallots. Mince the shallots. In a large stockpot, add the olive oil. Add the shallots and sauté 2 to 3 minutes, until softened.
- Simmer the soup. Stir in the curry powder, garam masala, cumin, and cayenne to coat the shallots. Then add the squash puree (5 cups), vegetable broth and kosher salt. Simmer for 10 minutes.
- Finish and serve. Stir in 1 cup coconut milk. Taste and adjust seasonings as desired. Serve with chopped fresh cilantro, a drizzle of extra coconut milk, and optional Crispy Quinoa.
Nutrition (per serving)
Nutrition information not available for this recipe.