By 2021. January. The pandemic continues but the vaccine is coming — hope in a syringe, the medical version of spring after winter. I'm eligible as a healthcare worker and I get vaccinated the third week of January, at a clinic in Boise, in a gymnasium converted into a vaccination site, surrounded by nurses and doctors and first responders who are all getting shots and looking relieved and tired and cautiously optimistic. The needle went in my left arm and I thought: this is not the first time medicine has saved me. The first time was chemo. The second time is this. My body and medicine, partners again, fighting the thing that threatens.
Tom got vaccinated the same week — essential worker, eligible early. We celebrated with dinner at home: his trout, my pot roast, two vaccines, and the feeling of momentum, of the world moving forward, of the crisis beginning to ease. The pandemic isn't over. But the worst of it is, and the worst was survived, and the surviving was done together, and together is the word that matters now.
Mason is halfway through fourth grade. Remote days alternate with in-person days, and he handles the switching with the adaptability of a child who has learned, from his mother, that life changes shape frequently and the only response is to change shape with it. His science project this semester: a study of erosion patterns in the Boise River, using samples he collected with Tom during their fall hikes. The project has been submitted for the district science fair. I don't want to jinx it. But it's really good.
I made chicken soup. Not because anyone is sick — just because it's January and soup is what January needs. Homemade broth, carrots, celery, noodles. The recipe that has gotten me through cancer and recovery and loneliness and pandemic. The recipe that is not just food but medicine, not just dinner but defense, not just a bowl of soup but an argument that everything is going to be okay, because chicken soup says so, and chicken soup has never been wrong.
This is the soup I come back to every January—the one I made the week Tom and I both got vaccinated, the week the world felt like it exhaled for the first time in months. I didn’t need a reason beyond the cold and the calendar, but I had one anyway: we’d made it through the worst of it, and that deserved a bowl of something that felt like armor. Bloody Mary Soup is bold and warming and a little unexpected, which is exactly what January 2021 called for.
Bloody Mary Soup
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 3 stalks celery, sliced
- 2 medium carrots, peeled and sliced
- 1 can (28 oz) crushed tomatoes
- 3 cups chicken broth
- 2 tablespoons prepared horseradish
- 2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
- 1 tablespoon hot sauce (such as Tabasco)
- 1 teaspoon celery salt
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 2 cups cooked chicken, shredded
- 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
- Salt to taste
- Celery leaves and lemon wedges for garnish
Instructions
- Saute the vegetables. Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 6 minutes. Add garlic and carrots and cook 2 minutes more.
- Build the base. Stir in crushed tomatoes and chicken broth. Add horseradish, Worcestershire sauce, hot sauce, celery salt, smoked paprika, and black pepper. Stir to combine.
- Simmer. Bring soup to a gentle boil, then reduce heat to low and simmer uncovered for 20 minutes, until carrots are tender and flavors have melded.
- Add chicken. Stir in shredded cooked chicken and lemon juice. Simmer an additional 5 minutes until chicken is heated through.
- Season and serve. Taste and adjust salt and hot sauce as desired. Ladle into bowls and garnish with celery leaves and a lemon wedge.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 195 | Protein: 18g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 14g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 680mg