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Hoppin’ John — The Kind of Comfort You Send When Words Aren’t Enough

Dorothy's first treatment round finished last week and James says the first round went as expected, which means difficult, and she is resting now in the between. He said the doctors are cautiously optimistic about the response to treatment, and I am choosing to hold cautiously optimistic with both hands, because in a season of hard news cautiously optimistic is a gift.

I sent a package to Dorothy this week. Tomato preserves — two jars — and a jar of the good tupelo honey from the local apiary, and a bag of the tea I drink when I need to be calm, a blend that Bernice used to keep in a tin and that I have tracked down at a specialty shop. And I wrote her a letter. Not long — one page — but real. I told her I was thinking about her and praying for her specifically, by name, in the mornings. I told her James had sat in my kitchen and that he loved her in a way that was visible in every word he said and every word he didn't. I told her she married a man who drives to Tuscaloosa when he is frightened because he needs his sister and that is worth knowing about the man you married. I told her the tupelo honey was good on toast and on cornbread both.

I don't know if this kind of letter helps. I hope it helps. When Marcus was sick people sent me things and wrote me things and most of it I did not absorb at the time but found later, in a box, and read when I was ready. Sometimes the help isn't for the moment of receiving but for a later moment when the person reaches into a box and finds a letter and remembers: someone saw me during this. Someone sent honey and thought of cornbread and wanted me to know I was prayed for. That is not nothing. That is quite a lot.

After I sealed up that package — the preserves, the honey, the tea, the letter — I stood in my kitchen and needed to do something with my hands. So I made Hoppin’ John, the way I always do when the world feels uncertain and I need a pot of something steady on the stove. It is the kind of meal that fills a house with warmth, and I ate it with cornbread and a drizzle of that same tupelo honey, and I thought about Dorothy resting in the between, and I prayed she could feel all of us holding her up.

Hoppin’ John

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 6 slices thick-cut bacon, chopped
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 stalks celery, diced
  • 1 small green bell pepper, diced
  • 2 cans (15 oz each) black-eyed peas, drained and rinsed
  • 1 cup long-grain white rice, uncooked
  • 2 cups chicken broth
  • 1 smoked ham hock
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
  • 2 green onions, sliced, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Cook the bacon. Heat olive oil in a large Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium heat. Add the chopped bacon and cook until crisp, about 5–7 minutes. Remove bacon with a slotted spoon and set aside, leaving the drippings in the pot.
  2. Sauté the vegetables. Add the onion, celery, and green bell pepper to the bacon drippings. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
  3. Simmer the peas. Add the black-eyed peas, chicken broth, ham hock, bay leaf, salt, black pepper, and cayenne. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes to develop the flavors.
  4. Cook the rice. While the peas simmer, cook the rice separately according to package directions.
  5. Combine and serve. Remove the ham hock and bay leaf from the pot. Pull any meat from the ham hock, chop it, and stir it back in along with the reserved bacon. Fold in the cooked rice and stir gently to combine. Taste and adjust seasoning. Serve warm, garnished with sliced green onions.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 380 | Protein: 18g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 48g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 720mg

Loretta Simms
About the cook who shared this
Loretta Simms
Week 332 of Loretta’s 30-year story · Birmingham, Alabama
Loretta is a fifty-six-year-old pastor's wife in Birmingham, Alabama, who has been feeding her church and her community for thirty-four years. She lost her teenage son Jeremiah in a car accident, and she cooked through the grief because that is what Loretta does — she feeds people. Every funeral, every homecoming, every Wednesday night supper. If you are hurting, Loretta will show up at your door with a casserole and she will not leave until you eat.

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