Red Bean Vegetable Soup

Late June. Summer solstice. The longest day. James and I walked through Volunteer Park after work — the long way, through the conservatory, past the Korean tai chi group I have been nodding at for two years. The nodding continues. The park continues. The walking continues, but now the walking includes James, whose hand is in mine, and the hand is warm and certain and the certainty is a new thing in a life that has been built on uncertainty and searching.

I told James about the birth mother search in detail this week — the GOA'L submission, the 325Kamra DNA service, the active search through the Eastern Social Welfare Society. He listened with his whole-face listening and then said, "Whatever happens, I am with you." Whatever happens. The promise of a partner, not a fixer. He is not promising to make it better. He is promising to be there, and the being-there is sometimes more than the making-better, because some things cannot be made better and can only be accompanied.

Cooking this week was summer-oriented: mul-naengmyeon (cold buckwheat noodles), patbingsu (shaved ice with red bean), and a Korean-Taiwanese fusion I invented — kimchi lu rou fan, Korean kimchi stir-fried with Taiwanese braised pork over rice. The fusion was extraordinary — the sour heat of kimchi cutting through the rich sweetness of the pork. Two cuisines meeting in a bowl and discovering they were neighbors all along.

Saturday: Bellevue. Karen made her summer corn salad. I brought the kimchi lu rou fan. Karen tried it and said, "This has layers." It does. The layers are Korean and Taiwanese and the space between where James and I live. The layers are the relationship expressed as a bowl of rice.

The red bean showed up twice this week — first in the patbingsu, cold and sweet and piled under shaved ice on a summer afternoon — and then I kept thinking about it, about how that small ingredient is a quiet constant across so many Korean desserts and dishes, something that travels across contexts and still feels like home. When I wanted to cook something that honored the Korean side of the week without the complexity of the lu rou fan, I turned to red bean vegetable soup: simple, grounding, the kind of thing that asks very little of you and gives a lot back. It felt right to end the week with a bowl that needed no explanation, the way James’s presence needs no explanation — it is just there, warm and certain.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 15 min | Total Time: 1 hr 30 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 cup dried red beans (adzuki), rinsed and soaked overnight
6 cups low-sodium vegetable broth
2 cups water
1 medium onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into rounds
2 stalks celery, chopped
1 medium zucchini, diced
1 cup canned diced tomatoes (with juice)
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1 tablespoon soy sauce (or tamari for gluten-free)
1 teaspoon gochugaru (Korean red pepper flakes), or to taste
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
Salt and black pepper to taste
2 green onions, thinly sliced, for garnish
1 teaspoon toasted sesame seeds, for garnish

Instructions

Prep the beans. Drain and rinse the soaked red beans. If you skipped the overnight soak, cover with cold water in a pot, bring to a boil for 2 minutes, then drain and proceed.
Start the base. In a large pot or Dutch oven, heat sesame oil over medium heat. Add onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
Build the broth. Add vegetable broth, water, drained red beans, diced tomatoes, soy sauce, gochugaru, and ground ginger. Stir to combine and bring to a boil over high heat.
Simmer the beans. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 45 minutes, until the red beans are beginning to soften but are not yet fully tender.
Add the vegetables. Add carrots and zucchini. Re-cover and continue to simmer for another 20–25 minutes, until beans are fully tender and vegetables are cooked through.
Adjust seasoning. Taste the soup and season with salt and black pepper as needed. If you prefer a thicker soup, use the back of a spoon to lightly crush some of the beans against the side of the pot and stir to incorporate.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and garnish with sliced green onions and toasted sesame seeds. Serve hot with steamed rice or crusty bread on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Red Bean Vegetable Soup — The Warmth You Carry When Someone Stays