November. Danny is in the hospital for four days. Not the final admission — I want to say that clearly because when I write "hospital" now I hear my own anxiety reading it back to me and I want to name the anxiety and set it aside. A respiratory infection, bacterial, the kind that has been going to the hospital for four days since the lung damage was permanent and the reserves were reduced. This is the fourth hospitalization in three years. The doctors manage it. Danny manages it in the way Danny manages everything: with quiet and without complaint and by eating what they put in front of him, which is hospital food that I supplement with containers I bring every day I am not on the pipeline.
I missed two days of work to be there. The foreman knows. I brought food: chicken soup with hominy and dried wild onion, which I made in a big batch Monday night, which travels well and reheats in a hospital microwave and tastes like something a person made specifically for you because it was. I brought bean bread wrapped tight in foil. I brought the last of the Cherokee Purples from the freezer, roasted and packed in a jar, which have no practical hospital application but which Danny likes to have near him, the smell of them, the connection to the garden and the summer.
Terry was at the hospital every day. She slept in the chair next to his bed two nights and I told her to go home and rest and she looked at me with the look she gives me when I have said something that she is not going to respond to because the response is obvious. I drove her to Terry's on Wednesday and made her eat soup and sleep for four hours and drove her back. She ate the soup. She went home Thursday to shower and change. Friday Danny came home. The infection is managed. The reserves are slightly smaller. The calendar keeps moving.
That soup — the chicken and hominy with dried wild onion — is the recipe I’m leaving here. It’s the one I made Monday night in the biggest pot I own, knowing I’d be splitting my week between the pipeline and the hospital, knowing it needed to travel well and reheat under fluorescent light and still taste like home. The bean bread goes with it because it always goes with it. These are not complicated recipes. They are steady ones, the kind you make when someone you love is managing something and you need your hands to be useful.
Chicken and Hominy Soup with Dried Wild Onion
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 30 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 50 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 2 1/2 pounds bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs
- 10 cups water
- 1 can (29 oz) white hominy, drained and rinsed
- 2 tablespoons dried wild onion (or substitute 1 medium yellow onion, diced)
- 3 cloves garlic, smashed
- 2 stalks celery, sliced
- 1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 bay leaf
Instructions
- Build the broth. Place chicken thighs in a large pot with 10 cups of water. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a steady simmer. Skim any foam that rises to the surface during the first 10 minutes.
- Simmer low and slow. Add the bay leaf, garlic, and celery. Simmer uncovered for 45 minutes to 1 hour, until the chicken is falling off the bone and the broth has reduced slightly and turned golden.
- Shred the chicken. Remove the chicken thighs and set aside to cool. Discard the bay leaf. When cool enough to handle, pull the meat from the bones, discarding skin and bones. Shred or chop the meat into bite-sized pieces.
- Add the hominy and wild onion. Return the shredded chicken to the pot. Add the drained hominy and the dried wild onion. Stir to combine. Season with salt and pepper.
- Finish the soup. Simmer for another 20 to 30 minutes so the hominy absorbs flavor and the dried wild onion softens and releases its sharp, green taste into the broth. Taste and adjust salt. The soup should be brothy, not thick.
- Store and transport. This soup keeps well in the refrigerator for up to 5 days and reheats in a microwave or on the stovetop without losing its character. Portion into containers for easy carrying.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 260 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 480mg
Bean Bread
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 2 cups stone-ground cornmeal
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 1/2 cups cooked pinto beans, drained (reserve 3/4 cup bean liquid)
- 3/4 cup bean cooking liquid (or water)
- 2 tablespoons lard or vegetable shortening, melted
Instructions
- Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
- Combine wet and dry. Lightly mash about half of the pinto beans with a fork, leaving the rest whole. Add all the beans, the bean liquid, and the melted lard to the cornmeal mixture. Stir until just combined. The batter will be thick and slightly sticky.
- Shape the bread. With damp hands, form the dough into small rounds about 3 inches across and 3/4 inch thick. You should get 8 pieces.
- Cook the bread. Heat a cast iron skillet or griddle over medium heat and grease lightly. Cook the bean bread rounds for 5 to 6 minutes per side, until golden brown and cooked through. Press gently with a spatula — the center should feel firm, not soft.
- Wrap for transport. Let cool slightly, then wrap tightly in foil. Bean bread holds its texture well at room temperature for a full day and rewarms in a few seconds in a microwave.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 195 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 310mg