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Chuck Wagon Chow — The Soup That Holds the Season

The clocks went back Sunday and November arrived with authority. The first week of November in Vermont is the week the year commits to its late-season character — the foliage mostly down, the fields pale and exhausted-looking, the cold arriving with intention rather than as a morning inconvenience that the afternoon corrects. The woodstove went on full schedule starting Monday and the house settled into its winter heat, the specific warmth of a wood-heated room that is different from any forced-air or baseboard heat in the way that it is uneven and alive, cooler near the windows, warmest near the stove, the heat moving through the rooms in a way you can feel against your skin as you move through them.

The November soup discipline began: lentil on Monday, thick and coriander-spiced in the way I make it every first Monday of November, the smell of it the announcement that the season has changed and the cooking has changed with it. Bill called his caldo verde ritual right on schedule, November first, and texted me a photograph of the soup in the pot: the deep green of the kale ribbons in the sausage-and-potato broth, exactly as he described it last year. I made the lentil and he made the caldo verde and we were each in our kitchens in our respective New England states doing the same thing on the same evening in the way that has come to feel like a shared ritual even though we are four hours apart.

I got a long email from Teddy on Sunday evening, the kind of email you write when something has accumulated enough to require more than a text. He has been working in the restaurant kitchen for two months now and had a list of things he wanted to tell me: what he had observed about how a working kitchen organizes itself, what the under-thirty-year-old cooks were doing that interested him, what mistakes he had made and corrected, what questions he had that the kitchen had not yet answered. He ended by saying that every time he runs into something he does not understand, he asks himself what I would say about it and usually that gets him to an answer, and when it does not, he calls me. I read that twice. Then I wrote back that a person who builds their own internal standard from accumulated instruction and then learns to use it independently is past the apprentice stage, and that he should know that.

The lentil has its Monday, and Bill has his caldo verde, and after writing back to Teddy I found myself wanting something with a little more heft — something that felt less like a seasonal marker and more like a meal that could hold the whole weight of a long Sunday evening. Chuck Wagon Chow is that kind of pot: thick and unapologetic, built on the logic that when the cold arrives with intention, the food should too. It is the kind of recipe that asks nothing complicated of you, which felt exactly right for a night when the thinking had already been done.

Chuck Wagon Chow

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 lb ground beef
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 stalks celery, sliced
  • 2 medium carrots, sliced into coins
  • 2 medium potatoes, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch cubes
  • 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
  • 1 can (15 oz) kidney beans, drained and rinsed
  • 3 cups beef broth
  • 1 cup water
  • 1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
  • 1 tsp smoked paprika
  • 1/2 tsp dried thyme
  • 1/2 tsp black pepper
  • 1 tsp salt, or to taste
  • 1 tbsp vegetable oil

Instructions

  1. Brown the beef. Heat the vegetable oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the ground beef and cook, breaking it apart with a wooden spoon, until browned through, about 6–8 minutes. Drain excess fat, leaving about 1 tablespoon in the pot.
  2. Soften the aromatics. Reduce heat to medium. Add the diced onion and celery to the pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute more until fragrant.
  3. Build the base. Stir in the smoked paprika, thyme, and black pepper, coating the vegetables and meat. Add the diced tomatoes with their juices, beef broth, water, and Worcestershire sauce. Stir to combine.
  4. Add the vegetables. Add the carrots and potatoes to the pot. Bring the mixture to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce to a steady simmer.
  5. Simmer until tender. Cover and cook for 25–30 minutes, until the potatoes and carrots are fully tender when pierced with a fork.
  6. Add the beans and finish. Stir in the kidney beans and cook uncovered for 5 minutes more to heat through and allow the broth to thicken slightly. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
  7. Serve. Ladle into deep bowls. Good with thick bread or cornbread alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 370 | Protein: 24g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 7g | Sodium: 720mg

Walter Bergstrom
About the cook who shared this
Walter Bergstrom
Week 450 of Walter’s 30-year story · Burlington, Vermont
Walt is a seventy-three-year-old retired high school history teacher from Burlington, Vermont — a Vietnam veteran, a widower, and a grandfather of five who cooks New England comfort food in the same kitchen where his wife Margaret made bread every Saturday for forty years. He lost Margaret to a stroke in 2021, and now he bakes her bread himself, not because he's good at it but because the smell fills the house and for an hour she's still there.

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