Savory Italian Stew

The writing course began on Tuesday. Twelve people around a table in a classroom that smelled like dry-erase markers and vending machine coffee. The instructor, a published essayist named Dana, started with a question: "What is the thing you're afraid to write about?" I wrote: my marriage. Then I crossed it out and wrote: my grandmother. Then I crossed that out and wrote: the space between the two — the way grief and loneliness look the same from inside and the question of whether I am mourning Fumiko or mourning the life I thought I'd have.

I made nikujaga this week — the Japanese meat and potato stew that is comfort food at its most fundamental. Beef (or pork, Fumiko used pork), potatoes, onions, carrots, simmered in dashi-soy-mirin broth until everything is tender and glossy. Nikujaga is the dish that Japanese mothers make when someone is sad, or cold, or coming home. It is a dish that says: sit down. Eat. You are cared for. I made it on a rainy Tuesday night after the writing class and ate it alone at the table — Brian was out, as usual — and the nikujaga cared for me even though no one else was present to do the caring.

The first assignment is a personal essay, one thousand words, about a food that changed your life. The class laughed — "just one?" — because food people never have just one. But I know mine. Miso soup. Not a specific miso soup, but the practice of miso soup, the daily ritual, the way I make it every morning and the making is a form of meditation and the drinking is a form of communion and the entire practice is a form of staying alive. I will write about this. I will write it well. The writing matters now in a way it didn't before, because the writing course is a threshold, and thresholds are where you stop being one thing and start being another.

Ken called on Sunday. We talked about his garden — the tomatoes are done, the daikon is coming in, the shiso has gone to seed. He mentioned the tremor in passing, the way you mention weather: "My hand shakes sometimes." I did not press. You do not press Ken Nakamura. You wait. You listen for the sentence beneath the sentence, the way you listen for dashi beneath miso. The tremor is noted. The concern is filed. The conversation continues on the surface where Nakamuras live.

Miya has started saying "itadakimasu" before meals — the Japanese grace, the acknowledgment that you are about to receive food. She learned it from me, who learned it from Fumiko, who learned it from her mother, who learned it in a country none of us have ever visited but all of us carry in our kitchens. Four generations of women, one word, unbroken. I hear it in Miya's small voice and the sound is the sound of the chain holding.

I couldn’t stop thinking about nikujaga after that Tuesday — the way it asked nothing of me except to sit and eat, the way it managed to be both humble and complete. I don’t always have the right dashi or the right cut of pork, and on those nights I reach for something that operates on the same principle: meat, potatoes, broth, time. This Savory Italian Stew is that dish for me — different lineage, same language. It simmers while you do the other hard work of living, and when you finally sit down, alone or not, it’s ready for you.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 lb Italian sausage, casings removed (mild or hot)
1 lb ground beef
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
2 medium carrots, sliced into rounds
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
1 can (15 oz) cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
3 cups beef broth
1 tsp dried Italian seasoning
1/2 tsp dried rosemary
1/2 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp salt, or to taste
1 tbsp olive oil
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Brown the meat. Heat olive oil in a large Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium-high heat. Add the Italian sausage and ground beef, breaking them up with a wooden spoon. Cook until browned and no longer pink, about 7–8 minutes. Drain excess fat.
Soften the aromatics. Reduce heat to medium. Add the diced onion to the pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 4 minutes. Add the minced garlic and cook for 1 minute more, until fragrant.
Add the vegetables. Stir in the potatoes and carrots. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring to coat everything in the pan drippings.
Build the broth. Pour in the diced tomatoes with their juices and the beef broth. Stir in the Italian seasoning, rosemary, salt, and pepper. Bring the stew to a boil over high heat.
Simmer until tender. Once boiling, reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer for 25–30 minutes, until the potatoes and carrots are fork-tender and the broth has thickened slightly.
Add the beans. Stir in the cannellini beans and simmer uncovered for an additional 5 minutes to heat through and allow the flavors to meld.
Taste and serve. Adjust seasoning with additional salt and pepper as needed. Ladle into bowls and garnish with fresh parsley if desired. Serve with crusty bread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Savory Italian Stew — The Dish That Cares for You When No One Else Is There