The Brewers lost the NLCS in seven games.
Seven. They were up 3-2 going back to Milwaukee. They needed one win. One. And the Dodgers took Games 6 and 7 and the whole city went quiet in the way that only a city that's been here before knows how to go quiet. Not angry. Just... resigned. The particular silence of midwestern sports grief.
I watched Game 7 at the Cape Cod with Dad. The Brewers lost 5-1. It wasn't close. When the last out was recorded, Dad turned off the TV and sat in the dark for a minute. Then he said, "Good season." And that was it. We didn't talk about it again.
I drove home through streets that were too quiet for a Friday night in Milwaukee. No honking, no cheering, no drunk people stumbling out of bars. Just... stillness. I went home and made scrambled eggs at midnight because I hadn't eaten since noon and my body was running on adrenaline and disappointment. Scrambled eggs with butter, salt, pepper, and a slice of toast. The meal of defeat. The meal of someone who is too emotionally exhausted to cook anything real.
The next day, I woke up and decided to cook through it. That's what I do now — I cook through things. Through grief, through anxiety, through sports-related emotional damage. I spent Saturday making Babcia's mushroom soup — the Christmas Eve version, with dried forest mushrooms. It's not Christmas. It's October. But I needed the smell of her kitchen, the meditation of stirring a pot for two hours, the taste of something that connects me to someone who is gone but also, in every bowl of soup, still here.
I brought the soup to Mom and Dad on Sunday. We ate it in silence, the way you eat comfort food after a loss — not tasting it, exactly, but absorbing it. Mom said, "It's early for mushroom soup." Dad said, "It's not early. It's right on time." Which might be the most poetic thing Tom Kowalski has ever said.
The pumpkin porter tasted on Monday. It's good. The real pumpkin gives it a body that extract can't match, and the brown sugar and cinnamon are there but not aggressive. It tastes like autumn, not like a candle. Marcus tried it and said, "Not bad, Kowalski." Plaque pending.
The Brewers will be back. They'll be back because that's what you do in Milwaukee — you come back, you try again, you eat pierogi and drink beer and watch the lake freeze and wait for spring. We're good at waiting. We've had practice.
Babcia’s mushroom soup got me through Saturday, but Sunday I needed something I could share — something that fed more than one person’s grief. Italian Peasant Soup has that same quality I was chasing: long simmer, humble ingredients, the kind of depth that only comes from giving a pot your full attention for an hour. It’s not Christmas Eve soup, but it’s the same idea — you make it when the world outside has gone quiet and you need the kitchen to be loud and warm and yours. Dad said it was right on time. I think he was talking about more than the mushroom soup.
Italian Peasant Soup
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 lb Italian sausage (sweet or mild), casings removed
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 3 medium carrots, sliced into rounds
- 3 stalks celery, sliced
- 2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, cut into 3/4-inch cubes
- 1 can (15 oz) cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, with juices
- 6 cups low-sodium chicken broth
- 2 cups chopped kale or escarole, stems removed
- 1 tsp dried Italian seasoning
- 1/2 tsp dried rosemary
- 1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
- Salt and black pepper, to taste
- 2 tbsp olive oil
- Grated Parmesan, for serving
- Crusty bread, for serving
Instructions
- Brown the sausage. Heat olive oil in a large Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium-high heat. Add the sausage and cook, breaking it up with a wooden spoon, until browned and cooked through, about 6–8 minutes. Transfer to a plate, leaving the drippings in the pot.
- Sweat the aromatics. Reduce heat to medium. Add the onion, carrots, and celery to the pot. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
- Build the base. Stir in the diced tomatoes with their juices, Italian seasoning, rosemary, and red pepper flakes if using. Scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot.
- Add broth and potatoes. Pour in the chicken broth and add the cubed potatoes. Return the browned sausage to the pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 20 minutes, until potatoes are just tender.
- Add beans and greens. Stir in the cannellini beans and chopped kale or escarole. Simmer an additional 8–10 minutes until the greens are wilted and tender.
- Season and serve. Taste and adjust salt and black pepper. Ladle into bowls and top with grated Parmesan. Serve with crusty bread for dunking.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 320 | Protein: 18g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 680mg
About the cook who shared this
Jake Kowalski
Week 134 of Jake’s 30-year story
· Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Jake is a twenty-nine-year-old brewery worker, newlywed, and proud Polish-American from Milwaukee's Bay View neighborhood. He didn't start cooking until his grandmother Babcia Helen passed away and left behind a stack of grease-stained recipe cards. Now he makes pierogi from scratch, smokes meats on a balcony smoker his landlord pretends not to notice, and writes for guys who want to cook good food but don't know a roux from a rub.