Creamy Broccoli Potato Soup

January again. The quiet month. The month the bakery breathes and I plan and the credit card statements arrive and the arithmetic begins. This year the numbers are better: the bakery grossed seventy-one thousand in 2017, up from sixty-two thousand in 2016. Profit: forty-four thousand, up from thirty-eight. The growth is real. It's not dramatic — not the overnight-success story that newspapers love — but it's steady, and steady is how bakeries grow, the way steady is how dough rises, incrementally, invisibly, until one day you look and the dough has doubled and you didn't see it happen but it happened.

Luis Jr. is in the final semester of high school. Five months until graduation. Five months until the Army. I am counting again — counting days, counting dinners, counting the number of times he will sit at my table before the table loses him. He is seventeen and he is already half-gone, already leaning toward the door, already thinking in logistics and deployment and the language of a world I don't know. But he still comes for Sunday dinner. He still eats my tamales. He still sits in the chair closest to the kitchen, the chair he has sat in since he was small enough to need a booster. Some things don't change. Some chairs are forever.

Alejandro called on New Year's Day. He sounded different — not better, not worse, but thinner. Like the telephone wire was losing signal, like his voice was fading the way old photographs fade. He said Happy New Year. He said the house was cold. He said the kitchen was quiet. He didn't say he was lonely, because Alejandro would sooner eat glass than admit to loneliness, but the quiet house and the cold kitchen said it for him. I said: "Papá, come for a visit." He said: "Maybe in the spring." Maybe. That word again. Rosa's word. The Delgado word for someday, which is the Delgado word for probably not, which is the Delgado word for I am afraid of the bridge and the bridge is afraid of me.

I made menudo for New Year's Day — the hangover soup, the recovery soup, though no one in my house was hungover because we don't drink (Luis quit in 2014, I never started, and the children are too young, and the only one who gets drunk in this family is Alejandro, who does it alone in Juárez, which is the saddest sentence I have written in this notebook). Menudo is ritual food. You eat it on January 1 because it is tradition, and tradition is the scaffolding that holds the year together, and without the scaffolding the year is just time, and time without structure is chaos, and chaos is not what Rosa built. Rosa built rhythm. I maintain the rhythm. The rhythm is the legacy.

Diego showed me his weather station data from 2017 — a full year of measurements, compiled into a report with graphs and charts and an executive summary (he called it an executive summary; it was two sentences: "El Paso is hot and dry. I will continue to collect data."). He is nine and he has written an annual report about the weather and I am fairly certain he is the only fourth-grader in America who has done this and I am prouder of those two sentences than I am of most things in my life.

I always say menudo is the soul of New Year’s Day in my kitchen — but the truth is, any pot of soup that simmers while the world resets itself carries the same weight. This creamy broccoli potato soup has become my second-day soup, the one I make on January 2nd when the tripe is gone and the house still needs warmth and Diego is asking for seconds of something green and Alejandro’s voice is still echoing in my head from that phone call. It’s not menudo. But it’s steady, and steady is everything.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 medium Yukon Gold potatoes (about 1 1/2 lbs), peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
4 cups broccoli florets (from 1 large head, roughly chopped)
4 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
1 cup whole milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 1/2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
Sour cream and extra shredded cheese, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Build the base. Melt butter in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 6 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Add vegetables and broth. Add the cubed potatoes and broccoli florets to the pot. Pour in the broth and stir to combine. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce to a steady simmer.
Simmer until tender. Cook uncovered for 18—20 minutes, until the potatoes are completely fork-tender and the broccoli is soft.
Blend partially. Use an immersion blender to blend about half the soup directly in the pot, leaving visible chunks of broccoli and potato for texture. Alternatively, ladle half the soup into a blender, blend until smooth, and return it to the pot. Stir to combine.
Add dairy and cheese. Reduce heat to low. Stir in the milk and heavy cream. Add 1 cup of the shredded cheddar a handful at a time, stirring until melted and fully incorporated after each addition. Do not let the soup boil once the dairy is added.
Season and finish. Stir in the salt, pepper, and smoked paprika. Taste and adjust seasoning. If the soup is thicker than you like, add a splash of broth or milk and stir.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with the remaining 1/2 cup shredded cheddar. Add a small spoonful of sour cream if desired. Serve immediately with crusty bread or warm tortillas.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamy Broccoli Potato Soup — The January Ritual That Holds the Year Together