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Red Potatoes with Beans — The Soup That Pulls Time Sideways

February 2025. The baby question had come up between Hannah and her partner—she'd been with a man named Thomas for about a year and a half, and they were talking seriously about the future. I was glad for her. She's thirty-five and she's been the steadiest person in our immediate household for as long as I can remember, and she deserves someone who is present for her the way she's always been present for everyone else.

She told me about it one evening over dinner, not as a big announcement but as something she was working through and wanted to think out loud about. I listened. I asked the right questions and not too many. She said she thought they wanted to try for a child, maybe in the next year or so. I said I thought that sounded like her being ready, and that when you're ready it usually looks like what she was describing.

She laughed and said I sounded like Danny. I said that was probably his doing, not mine.

Made bean soup that evening—the simple kind, just beans and water and salt and whatever aromatics were at hand, nothing complicated. She ate two bowls and said it tasted like the house had always smelled, meaning our childhood home, meaning our mother's kitchen before things changed. I said I know. We sat for a while without needing to say more than that.

The food does that sometimes. It pulls time sideways and you're in more than one place at once, and the people who aren't here are just less present than the people who are. Not gone—just in the other room. That's the mercy of it.

That evening with Hannah is why I keep coming back to this recipe — it’s the kind of dish that doesn’t ask anything of you, just aromatics, beans, and whatever root vegetables are on hand, and somehow it gives back more than you put in. Red Potatoes with Beans is the closest thing I have to a written-down version of what I made that night: honest, filling, and built from the same instinct that says some conversations deserve a bowl of something warm and unshowy. It’s the recipe I reach for when the moment is already full.

Red Potatoes with Beans

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs small red potatoes, halved or quartered
  • 1 can (15 oz) white cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
  • 3 cups low-sodium vegetable broth
  • 1 cup water
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 stalks celery, sliced
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 2 sprigs fresh thyme (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
  • 1 bay leaf
  • Fresh parsley, chopped, for serving

Instructions

  1. Soften the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
  2. Add potatoes and liquid. Add the red potatoes, broth, water, thyme, bay leaf, paprika, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
  3. Simmer until tender. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover partially, and simmer for 18–20 minutes, until the potatoes are fork-tender.
  4. Add the beans. Stir in the drained cannellini beans and cook uncovered for another 5 minutes, until the beans are warmed through and the broth has thickened slightly.
  5. Finish and serve. Remove the bay leaf and thyme sprigs. Taste and adjust salt as needed. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh parsley.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 285 | Protein: 11g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 50g | Fiber: 9g | Sodium: 420mg

Jesse Whitehawk
About the cook who shared this
Jesse Whitehawk
Week 219 of Jesse’s 30-year story · Tulsa, Oklahoma
Jesse is a thirty-nine-year-old welder, a Cherokee Nation citizen, and a married dad of three in Tulsa who cooks over open fire because that's how his grandpa Charlie did it and his grandpa's grandpa did it before him. His food draws from Cherokee tradition, Mexican heritage from his mother's side, and Oklahoma BBQ culture. He forages wild onions every spring and makes grape dumplings in the fall, and he considers both acts of cultural survival.

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