Creamy Tomato-Potato Basil Soup

2017. A new year. The year I finish the first half of the program and start the second half. The year Chloe turns five. The year Jayden turns two. The year I stop being a first-semester student and become a second-semester student, which is a small distinction that feels like crossing a border.

I didn't make resolutions. Resolutions are for people who need to start something. I don't need to start. I need to continue. My resolution is: keep going. That's it. That's the whole list. Keep going to work. Keep going to school. Keep going to the kitchen. Keep going.

Mama invited us for New Year's Day dinner — black-eyed peas and cornbread, the Southern tradition for good luck. You eat black-eyed peas on January 1st and you get prosperity for the year. I don't know if I believe in food magic, but I believe in Mama's black-eyed peas, and that's close enough. She makes them with ham hock and onion and they simmer all day and by dinner they're creamy and salty and taste like hope in a bowl. We ate them with cornbread — mine this time, not Mama's — and Mama didn't correct it, which means the cornbread streak continues.

Chloe announced her New Year's resolution: "I want to learn to read." She is four. She cannot read. She thinks she can — she "reads" books by looking at pictures and narrating elaborate stories that have nothing to do with the actual text. But she wants to really read, and I said, "We'll work on it together," and we started with sight words. "The." "And." "Is." She wrote them on index cards and posted them on the fridge next to the 96 cake picture and the acceptance letter and the growing collection of proof that this family is going somewhere.

Jayden's New Year's resolution, if he had one, would be: continue eating things that are not food. He started the year by eating a crayon (red), a piece of newspaper (sports section), and the corner of a board book about farm animals. The book survived. The animals did not. There is now a cow with no face in our book collection. I'm keeping it as a cautionary tale.

Semester two starts next week. New classes: dental radiology (X-rays), clinical practice (real patients!), and pharmacology (drugs, the legal kind). I'm nervous about clinical practice. Mannequin heads don't flinch. Real people do. Real people have feelings and fears and gag reflexes and a dental hygienist-in-training has to navigate all of that while also correctly identifying a periodontal pocket. It's going to be the hardest semester yet. I'm going to survive it. That's not a resolution. That's a fact.

I made a big pot of potato soup for the first week of January. Diced potatoes, onion, butter, chicken broth, milk, sour cream, cheddar, bacon. Thick, creamy, the kind of soup that hugs your insides when it's 30 degrees outside and the apartment's window unit is now a heater that works about as well as it cooled, which is to say: not great, but enough. Nashville winter is not Minnesota winter. It's a polite cold, a manageable cold. A potato-soup-and-a-blanket cold. We manage it.

The potato soup I made that first week carried me through the uncertainty of what was coming—it was comfort food in the truest sense, the kind you make not because you’re a good cook but because you need to feel okay. This version adds tomato and basil, a little brightness to balance the richness, and it’s become my go-to when a semester feels bigger than I’m ready for. Here’s how I make it.

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
1 1/2 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and diced into 3/4-inch cubes
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
3 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 cup whole milk or half-and-half
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese, plus more for topping
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, roughly chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried basil)
4 strips bacon, cooked and crumbled, for topping
Sliced green onions, for topping

Instructions

Sauté the aromatics. In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, melt butter over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Build the base. Add the diced potatoes, canned tomatoes with their juices, chicken broth, salt, pepper, and smoked paprika. Stir to combine. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce heat to medium-low and simmer uncovered for 20–25 minutes, until potatoes are completely tender and easily pierced with a fork.
Blend partially. Use an immersion blender to blend about half the soup directly in the pot, leaving plenty of potato chunks for texture. Alternatively, transfer 2 cups of soup to a blender, blend until smooth, and stir back in. The goal is a thick, creamy base with hearty pieces throughout.
Add the dairy. Reduce heat to low. Stir in the milk or half-and-half and sour cream until fully incorporated. Do not let the soup boil after adding the dairy. Add the shredded cheddar and stir until melted and smooth, about 2 minutes.
Finish with basil. Stir in the fresh basil and taste for seasoning, adding salt and pepper as needed. Let the soup rest on low heat for 5 minutes to allow the flavors to come together.
Serve and top. Ladle into bowls and top with crumbled bacon, additional shredded cheddar, and sliced green onions. Serve immediately with cornbread or crusty bread for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamy Tomato-Potato Basil Soup — The Pot That Carries You Through January