Basque Vegetable Soup

The world is strange in a way that keeps reasserting itself. I turn on the radio in the truck and the news sounds like something I would have dismissed as catastrophizing if someone had described it to me a year ago — national emergency, millions sheltering in place, hospitals being overrun in cities I've visited once or twice. And then I pull into the Kowalski place and the Thoroughbred comes to the fence to see if I have anything, and he doesn't care about any of it, and the work is exactly what it always is.

This is the thing about ranch and farrier work during a pandemic: it does not pause. Animals don't shelter in place. Hooves keep growing, injuries keep happening, and the people who work with animals keep going out in the world to meet them. I'm more careful now — washing hands between accounts, staying outside, keeping distance from the owners when possible. But the work continues.

Tom Whelan is the concern. He's seventy-eight, lives alone, and his nearest family is a daughter in Colorado who can't drive to Montana right now. I've been stopping in twice a week, leaving groceries on the porch when he doesn't want a visit, having coffee at his kitchen table when he does. He's stubborn about his independence but he accepts the groceries without argument, which is how I know he's not entirely fine and also not entirely pretending to be fine.

Made a large pot of pasta e fagioli this week — the kind my college roommate's Italian-American mother used to make, which I was served once and then reconstructed from memory over the following months. White beans, ditalini pasta, pancetta, rosemary, Parmesan rind in the pot for depth. It feeds many people and costs almost nothing and keeps for days. That quality — of abundant, inexpensive, lasting food — has always mattered on a ranch but it matters differently now, when abundance is less certain than it was a month ago.

The pasta e fagioli I described above is the specific pot I made, but it’s this Basque vegetable soup that I come back to again and again when I need something that will stretch — when I’m leaving a container on Tom’s porch and want it to carry him through two or three days without any fuss on his end. It shares that same old logic: inexpensive, deeply nourishing, better the next day than it was the first, the kind of recipe that doesn’t ask much of anyone but gives back more than you expect. If you understand why someone would put a Parmesan rind in a pot of beans, you’ll understand this soup immediately.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium carrots, sliced into rounds
2 stalks celery, sliced
1 medium zucchini, diced
1 red bell pepper, diced
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, with juices
2 cans (15 oz each) white cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
6 cups low-sodium vegetable or chicken broth
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary
1 bay leaf
1 Parmesan rind (optional, but recommended)
2 cups chopped green cabbage
Salt and black pepper, to taste
Fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for serving
Crusty bread, for serving

Instructions

Build the base. Heat olive oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Add the vegetables. Stir in the carrots, celery, bell pepper, and zucchini. Cook for 5–6 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables begin to soften at the edges.
Season and toast the spices. Add the smoked paprika, thyme, and rosemary directly to the vegetables and stir to coat. Cook for 1 minute to bloom the spices.
Add liquids and aromatics. Pour in the diced tomatoes with their juices and the broth. Add the bay leaf and Parmesan rind if using. Stir to combine and bring to a gentle boil.
Add beans and cabbage. Stir in the cannellini beans and chopped cabbage. Reduce heat to low, cover partially, and simmer for 25–30 minutes, until all vegetables are fully tender and the broth has deepened in flavor.
Finish and taste. Remove the bay leaf and Parmesan rind. Season generously with salt and black pepper. Taste and adjust — the rind will have added considerable depth, so go easy on salt until the end.
Serve. Ladle into bowls, top with fresh parsley, and serve with crusty bread for soaking up the broth. The soup keeps refrigerated for up to 5 days and improves with time.

Nutrition (per serving)

Basque Vegetable Soup — The Kind of Pot That Takes Care of People