Hearty Pasta Soup Mix

October. The month that makes Alabama remember it has weather other than summer. The mornings are cool now—not cold, but cool, the kind of cool that makes coffee taste better and makes you want to bake something that takes a long time and warms the kitchen as a side effect. I have been baking more this month: the yeast breads, the dense autumn cakes, the sweet potato things that belong to October the way magnolias belong to June.

I had a conversation with Sister Aisha this week about the blog. She said some numbers and I listened and I asked what they meant and she said that what they meant was that a significant number of people were reading what I write regularly, that several posts had been shared widely, that there were people who had found the RecipeSpinoff blog specifically because of my writing and who stayed for the food community. I said, "Good." She said, "Mother Simms, do you understand what I'm saying?" I said, "You're saying people are reading." She said, "A lot of people." I said, "Good. More salt."

She stared at me for a moment and then she laughed because she knew I meant: keep writing what's true, don't start performing for the audience, don't let the number of readers change what the writing is. More salt means more of the real thing. Don't water it down. Don't make it palatable when palatability isn't the point. The point is truth. The point is the woman at three in the morning who needs to know she is not alone. More salt.

I made a pot of navy bean soup this week. Simple—the beans, a ham hock, onions, a bay leaf, a long slow simmer until everything has given everything it has to the broth and the broth has become something greater than the sum of its parts. This is the miracle of soup: the transformation. What goes in separately comes out unified, indistinguishable from itself as the broth absorbs everything and becomes more than it was. More salt. Let it simmer. Let it become what it is going to be. That's the whole instruction.

The soup I described in the pot this week—beans and a ham hock and onions and a bay leaf and a long slow simmer—is the same philosophy as this Hearty Pasta Soup Mix: you put the honest things in, you give them time, and you do not rush the becoming. I keep this mix in my pantry for the weeks when I need the kitchen to do the work of settling me, and October is full of those weeks. Make it the same way I make the bean soup: low heat, enough salt, enough patience, and trust the broth.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 15 min | Total Time: 1 hr 30 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 cup dried navy beans, rinsed and sorted
1/2 cup dried green split peas
1/2 cup dried red lentils
1/2 cup small pasta (ditalini or small elbows)
1 smoked ham hock (about 1 lb)
1 large yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 medium carrots, sliced into rounds
3 stalks celery, chopped
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes
8 cups low-sodium chicken broth
2 cups water
2 bay leaves
1 tsp dried thyme
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1 1/2 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 tsp black pepper
2 tbsp olive oil
Fresh parsley, chopped, for serving

Instructions

Soak the beans. Place navy beans in a large bowl, cover with cold water by 2 inches, and soak overnight or at least 8 hours. Drain and rinse before using.
Build the base. In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 7 minutes. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Add the broth and beans. Pour in chicken broth and water. Add the drained navy beans, split peas, ham hock, carrots, diced tomatoes, bay leaves, thyme, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine.
Simmer low and slow. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce heat to low. Cover partially and simmer for 50–60 minutes, until the navy beans are fully tender and the broth has deepened in color and flavor.
Remove the ham hock. Lift the ham hock from the pot and set aside until cool enough to handle. Pull the meat from the bone, discarding the skin and bone. Shred the meat into bite-sized pieces and return it to the pot.
Add the pasta. Stir in the red lentils and pasta. Cook uncovered over medium heat for an additional 10–12 minutes, until the pasta is tender and the lentils have dissolved into the broth, thickening it slightly.
Taste and finish. Remove bay leaves. Taste the broth carefully—add more salt as needed, a little at a time, until the flavor is full and clear. This is the step that matters most. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh parsley.

Nutrition (per serving)

Hearty Pasta Soup Mix — More Salt, More Truth, More of the Real Thing