Reuben Soup -- The Equation That Always Works

The Safer at Home order came down on Wednesday. Governor Evers: stay home, essential travel only, gatherings prohibited. Milwaukee, a city that gathers — at breweries, at fish fries, at Packers games, at church — is being told to stop gathering. It's like asking a fish to stop swimming. I'm home. Full time. The brewery is running production with three people (Marcus, the assistant brewer below me, and one packaging person). I'm not needed. I'm on reduced hours, reduced pay, collecting what I can from unemployment. The financial cushion I've been building for Helen's is becoming the cushion that keeps me housed. But I'm cooking. God, am I cooking. I made a delivery schedule: Mrs. Wojcik gets food on Mondays and Thursdays. Mom and Dad get food on Wednesdays. Mike and Amy get whatever I have extra. I cook every day, big batches, enough for multiple people, and I drive around Bay View like a pierogi delivery service, leaving food on porches and texting "IT'S OUTSIDE" and driving away. This week's deliveries: - Mrs. Wojcik: mushroom soup, pierogi (potato and cheese), bread - Mom and Dad: go┼é─àbki, rosó┼é, a loaf of rye bread - Mike and Amy: chili, cornbread, leftover bigos The cooking serves three purposes: it feeds people who need feeding, it gives me something to do with my hands, and it keeps me sane. The apartment is small and the walls are close and the news is a nonstop stream of death tolls and overwhelmed hospitals and politicians arguing about things that shouldn't be arguments. The kitchen is the only place where the noise stops. The only place where the inputs and outputs make sense: flour and water and salt become dough, dough becomes pierogi, pierogi become comfort. The equation works. It always works. My Instagram shifted this week. Instead of restaurant-quality photos and polished captions, I'm posting the raw stuff: a pot of soup on the stove at midnight, a counter covered in flour, containers stacked for delivery. The caption for Monday's post: "I can't fix what's happening. But I can make soup. So I'm making soup." It got twelve thousand likes. Twelve thousand people related to making soup in a crisis. We're all just making soup. Mrs. Wojcik called after her Monday delivery. "The mushroom soup is correct," she said. Then: "Jakub, are you okay?" I said yes. She said, "Don't lie to an old woman." I said, "I'm scared." She said, "Good. Fear means you're paying attention. Now go make pierogi." The prescription for everything: make pierogi.

Mrs. Wojcik said the mushroom soup was “correct,” and that’s the highest praise I know. But the soup I keep coming back to — the one I’ve made six times since the Safer at Home order dropped — is this Reuben Soup: corned beef, sauerkraut, caraway, a rye bread crouton floated on top like a little raft. It’s got the same tangy, briny backbone as the bigos I sent to Mike and Amy, the same stick-to-your-ribs logic as everything else coming out of my kitchen right now. The inputs and outputs make sense: you put grief and flour and fear into the pot, and what comes out is something warm that you can leave on someone’s porch. The equation works. It always works.

Reuben Soup

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 medium yellow onion, diced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 stalks celery, sliced
• 1 teaspoon caraway seeds
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 4 cups low-sodium beef broth
• 1 cup sauerkraut, drained (reserve 2 tablespoons brine)
• 12 ounces corned beef, roughly chopped or shredded
• 4 ounces cream cheese, cubed and softened
• 1 cup shredded Swiss cheese, divided
• 1/2 cup whole milk
• 2 tablespoons Thousand Island or Russian dressing
• 6 slices rye bread, cubed or torn
• 1 tablespoon olive oil (for croutons)
• Salt to taste

Instructions

1. Toast the croutons. Toss rye bread cubes with olive oil and a pinch of salt. Spread on a baking sheet and bake at 375°F for 10–12 minutes, turning once, until crisp and golden. Set aside.
2. Build the base. Melt butter in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 6 minutes. Add garlic and caraway seeds and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
3. Make a roux. Sprinkle flour over the vegetables and stir constantly for 2 minutes to cook out the raw flour taste. The mixture will look pasty — that’s correct.
4. Add broth and simmer. Gradually whisk in the beef broth, about 1 cup at a time, making sure each addition is smooth before adding the next. Bring to a gentle boil, then reduce heat to medium-low and simmer 10 minutes.
5. Add the sauerkraut and corned beef. Stir in the drained sauerkraut, the reserved sauerkraut brine, and the corned beef. Simmer 8 minutes, letting the flavors come together.
6. Make it creamy. Reduce heat to low. Add the cream cheese cubes and stir until fully melted into the soup. Pour in the milk and stir to combine. Add 3/4 cup of the Swiss cheese and stir until melted. Do not boil after adding the dairy.
7. Finish and season. Stir in the Thousand Island dressing. Taste and adjust salt and pepper. If you want more tang, add a splash more sauerkraut brine.
8. Serve. Ladle into bowls. Top each with rye croutons and a pinch of the remaining Swiss cheese. Serve immediately — or pack into containers, croutons separate, for porch delivery.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 23g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 980mg