Friendship Soup Mix — For the People Who Show Up When You Need Them Most

Ten years. March 14, 2019. Ten years since the kitchen floor. Ten years since the empty house and the empty bottle and the decision that saved my life. I don't have the words for this. I'm a man who writes about food and family and I don't have the words for what ten years of sobriety means. So I'll tell you what happened instead. Tuesday meeting. My chip. The ten-year chip. Bill handed it to me and the room was quiet and I held it in my palm — a small disc, not much bigger than a quarter — and it weighed nothing and it weighed everything. Bill said, "Bobby, I've known you since day one. The man who walked in ten years ago was scared and shaking and he didn't think he'd last a week. The man standing here has fed more people than anyone I know, raised three kids who turned out right, and placed second at the goddamn rodeo Cook-Off. You did that. Sober. One day at a time. You did that." I didn't give a speech. I said: "I'm still scared. Just about different things now." The room laughed. It was true. I'm scared about my knee, about my kids growing up, about Ma getting older, about the brisket not being good enough at the next competition. The fears changed shape. But the response to fear is the same: show up. Do the next right thing. One day at a time. After the meeting, I drove to Ma's. Tuesday, not Saturday, but she knew. She always knows. She had pho waiting. The twelve-hour version. On a Tuesday. She put the bowl in front of me and said, "Ten years, Bao." She said it quietly, like a fact. Like gravity. Like something that has always been true. I ate the pho. It was the best she's ever made. I swear it was. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it tasted better because of what it meant — a mother feeding her son on the anniversary of the day he chose to live. I went home. I stood at the smoker in the dark. I held the ten-year chip in one hand and the lighter in the other and I lit a fire. Not to cook anything. Just to watch it burn. Just to remind myself that fire is transformation, and transformation is what I've been doing for ten years, and I'm not done. Ten years. 3,652 days. One day at a time. Every single one. Still here.

Ma didn’t ask if I was coming. She just made the pho and waited, because that’s what love looks like when it’s been doing the work for ten years. I can’t give you her twelve-hour broth — that recipe lives in her hands and I wouldn’t dare try to write it down — but I can give you this: a soup you make for someone else, layered up in a jar, left on a porch or pressed into a pair of hands at a Tuesday meeting, because sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is hand someone warmth and say, I’m here, and I was thinking about you. That’s what this Friendship Soup Mix is. It’s not pho. It’s the feeling of pho.

Friendship Soup Mix

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 30 min | Total Time: 1 hr 45 min | Servings: 10

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup dried green split peas
• 1/3 cup beef bouillon granules
• 1/4 cup pearl barley
• 1/4 cup dried lentils (green or brown)
• 1/4 cup dried navy beans
• 1/4 cup dried kidney beans
• 1/4 cup dried black-eyed peas
• 2 tablespoons dried minced onion
• 1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/2 teaspoon celery seed
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
• To make the soup: 3 quarts water, 1 lb Italian sausage or smoked sausage (sliced), one 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes (undrained)

Instructions

1. Layer the mix. In a clean quart-sized glass jar, layer the split peas, bouillon granules, barley, lentils, navy beans, kidney beans, and black-eyed peas in order. Combine the minced onion, Italian seasoning, garlic powder, celery seed, black pepper, and red pepper flakes in a small zip-lock bag and place it on top. Seal the jar. (To give as a gift, attach cooking instructions to the jar with twine.)
2. Rinse the beans. When ready to cook, remove the seasoning packet and set aside. Pour the remaining contents of the jar into a fine-mesh strainer and rinse well under cold water.
3. Start the soup. In a large Dutch oven or stockpot, combine the rinsed bean-and-grain mix with 3 quarts of water. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a low simmer. Cover and cook for 1 hour, stirring occasionally.
4. Add the sausage and seasoning. Stir in the sliced sausage, the diced tomatoes with their juices, and the seasoning packet. Return to a gentle simmer. Cook uncovered for an additional 30 minutes, or until the beans are fully tender and the broth has thickened slightly.
5. Taste and adjust. Taste the broth and adjust salt if needed (the bouillon adds plenty, so go easy). Ladle into bowls and serve with crusty bread or corn muffins.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 18g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 8g | Sodium: 780mg