Ham and Bean Soup — The Pot That Tastes Like Somebody Loves You

The week after Easter is always quiet. The house still smells like ham and everybody has gone back to their lives, and it's just me and Earl and the leftovers. I don't mind leftovers. In fact, I think most things are better the second day — soup, stew, collard greens, marriage. Everything needs time to settle into itself.

I made ham and bean soup on Monday with the Easter ham bone. You take that bone with all the bits still clinging to it, put it in a big pot with white beans that you've soaked overnight, onion, celery, a bay leaf, and enough water to cover. Then you leave it alone. Low heat, lid on, three hours. Don't fuss with it. Don't stir it every five minutes. Soup is not a child — it doesn't need constant supervision. When it's done, the beans are creamy and the ham is falling apart and the broth is thick and smoky and it tastes like somebody loves you. That's what I'm going for. Every meal I make, I want you to take one bite and know somebody loves you.

Earl had a doctor's appointment on Wednesday. I drove him to the cardiologist at Memorial — the same hospital where they saved his life thirteen years ago. Every time we walk through those doors, I think about that day. July 15, 2003. Earl on the lawn. The ambulance. Two weeks in the ICU. The doctors saying "miracle" and me saying "stubborn." He's stubborn. That's what saved him. He refused to leave me with all these children to feed by myself.

The doctor said his numbers are "stable," which is doctor talk for "not getting worse but not getting better either." His cholesterol is down from the diet changes I forced on him three years ago. His blood pressure is managed. His ejection fraction — that's how well the heart pumps, Kayla explained it to me — is low but holding. The doctor asked Earl if he's been exercising. Earl said, "I walk to the mailbox." The doctor said, "Maybe walk a little farther." Earl said, "The mailbox is far enough." I love that man, but Lord give me strength.

Kayla called Saturday. She's finished her midterms and she thinks she did well. She wants to specialize in cardiac nursing, which she says has nothing to do with Earl's heart attack, but I know my granddaughter. Everything she does is connected to everything she's lost. She watched her grandfather nearly die and she decided she would learn to keep hearts beating. That is the most Kayla thing I have ever heard.

I went to choir practice Thursday night. We're learning a new arrangement of "Precious Lord, Take My Hand" for the spring concert. My voice isn't what it was — I'm an alto and I was always an alto, but now I'm an alto who runs out of breath on the long notes. Gladys, who sings soprano and who I love and who also drives me up a wall, told me I was flat on the bridge. I told her she was sharp on the intro. We glared at each other. Then we went to her car and ate the lemon pound cake she'd brought, because that is how friendship works when you are sixty and have known each other for forty years. You fight, you eat cake, you move on.

Now go on and feed somebody.

After a week like that — Kayla deciding to save hearts, Gladys telling me I was flat, the two of us eating lemon pound cake in a parking lot like we’ve done a hundred times before — I needed something that just simmers. Something that doesn’t need much fussing, just time and a good bone and the sense to let it be. Ham and bean soup is what I make when I want the house to smell like somebody loves it. Here’s how I do it.

Ham and Bean Soup

Prep Time: 15 minutes (plus overnight soak) | Cook Time: 3 hours | Total Time: 3 hours 15 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 1 meaty ham bone (from a 7–10 lb bone-in ham, with bits still clinging to it)
• 1 lb dried navy beans or Great Northern beans, soaked overnight and drained
• 1 large yellow onion, diced
• 3 stalks celery, sliced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 bay leaves
• 1/2 tsp black pepper
• 1/4 tsp dried thyme
• 8–10 cups water or low-sodium chicken broth, enough to cover
• Salt to taste

Instructions

1. Soak the beans. Place dried beans in a large bowl and cover with cold water by at least 3 inches. Soak overnight or for a minimum of 8 hours. Drain and rinse well before using.
2. Build the pot. Set the ham bone in a large heavy pot or Dutch oven. Add the drained beans, onion, celery, garlic, bay leaves, pepper, and thyme. Pour in enough water or broth to cover everything by at least 2 inches.
3. Bring to a simmer. Set heat to medium-high and bring just to a boil. Skim any foam that rises to the surface, then reduce heat to low.
4. Leave it alone. Cover with a lid and let the soup simmer on low for 3 hours. Check occasionally to make sure nothing is sticking and add a cup of water if the liquid drops too low, but do not fuss with it. The soup does not need constant supervision.
5. Pull the ham. Remove the ham bone from the pot and set it on a cutting board. When it’s cool enough to handle, pull all the meat from the bone in bite-sized pieces and return the meat to the pot. Discard the bone and any gristle.
6. Finish and serve. Remove the bay leaves. Taste before adding salt — the ham already carries plenty. For a thicker, creamier broth, press a cup of beans against the side of the pot with the back of a spoon and stir them in. Serve hot with cornbread or a thick slice of white bread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 285 | Protein: 24g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 10g | Sodium: 620mg