June. Summer. The garden is in and producing. The tomato seedlings I planted in March are now knee-high and flowering. The peppers are coming. The beans are climbing. The garden doesn't care about the pandemic. The garden responds to sun and water and time, the same three inputs it's always needed, and the reliability of that response is a comfort in a world where reliability has been in short supply.
Clay's cooking is improving weekly. His Saturday lessons have become daily habits — he cooks at least one meal a day now, sometimes two. He made soup beans last Monday without supervision, without prompting, without a recipe card. Just stood at the stove and made them from memory, from his hands, from the three months of Saturdays that have turned instruction into instinct. I tasted them. Ninety-two percent. The highest yet. The beans are creamy. The broth is rich. The ham hock is rendered. The ninety-two percent is not Betty's one hundred, but it's close enough that Betty would taste them and nod, and Betty's nod is the degree that matters.
He also made biscuits on his own. Sunday morning. I came downstairs to the smell of baking and found Clay in the kitchen with flour on his shirt and a pan of biscuits in the oven. They were eighty-seven percent. Not bad. Not bad at all. The layers were there. The height was respectable. The taste was Betty's — the lard and the buttermilk and the salt doing what they've done for a hundred years in a hundred kitchens. Clay's hands made them. Clay's hands, which held a rifle in Afghanistan and a beer bottle in the garage and a pen in the VA journal, made biscuits on a Sunday morning because he wanted to. Not because I told him. Because he wanted to. Because the kitchen called him the way it calls me: quietly, through smell and memory and the particular pull of a cast iron skillet on a gas burner at six AM.
He's healing. The word I've been afraid to use — healing — is the word. Not healed. Healing. Present participle. Ongoing. A process, not a product. But the process is working and the evidence is in the biscuits and the soup beans and the man who stands at the stove with flour on his shirt and makes something from nothing because that's what Hensleys do. We make something from nothing. We always have.
Watching Clay stand at that stove on his own — flour on his shirt, biscuits in the oven, soup beans going from memory — reminded me that the most healing recipes are never the complicated ones. They’re the ones built on repetition and warmth, the kind that teach your hands before they teach your head. This Instant Pot potato soup is that kind of recipe: thick, creamy, and forgiving enough for a beginner but satisfying enough to make a seasoned cook proud. It’s the soup I reach for when someone in this house needs to feel like they made something real.
Instant Pot Potato Soup
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 2 lbs Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes
- 4 cups low-sodium chicken broth
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 4 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled (plus extra for topping)
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1 cup sour cream, room temperature
- 1 1/2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
- 1/2 cup whole milk or heavy cream
- 1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 3 green onions, thinly sliced, for garnish
Instructions
- Sauté the aromatics. Set the Instant Pot to the Sauté function. Melt butter in the insert, then add the diced onion. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 3–4 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant.
- Add potatoes and broth. Pour in the chicken broth and add the cubed potatoes, salt, pepper, and smoked paprika. Stir to combine. Cancel the Sauté function.
- Pressure cook. Secure the lid and set the valve to Sealing. Cook on High Pressure for 10 minutes. Once the cook time is complete, carefully do a quick release of the pressure.
- Mash and finish. Use a potato masher or the back of a large spoon to mash about half the potatoes directly in the pot, leaving some chunks for texture. Stir in the sour cream, milk (or heavy cream), and 1 cup of the shredded cheddar until smooth and creamy. Fold in the crumbled bacon.
- Adjust and serve. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed. Ladle into bowls and top each serving with remaining cheddar, extra bacon crumbles, and sliced green onions.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 620mg