Slow-Cooker Split Pea Soup -- The Soup That Holds, For Paul

November. The dark is here. Four-thirty sunsets. Five AM mornings in the kitchen with coffee and the sound of Paul's breathing monitor beeping its low steady reassurance from the bedroom. A new sound in the house. A new machine. The respiratory therapist recommended the monitor after the last clinic visit. Paul's breathing capacity has dropped to eighty-five percent. Not dangerous. Not yet. But the decline is steady and the monitoring is precautionary and the machine sits on the nightstand and measures his breathing while he sleeps and the beeping is soft but constant and I hear it all night because I sleep in the bed next to his and the beeping is both comforting and terrifying. Comforting because it means he's breathing. Terrifying because it means someone has to monitor whether he's breathing. I am that someone. I am the monitor. The machine measures the oxygen. I measure everything else — his color, his energy, his appetite, his mood, the way his chest rises and falls, the way his voice sounds in the morning (still strong, still clear, still Paul). I measure him the way I measured patients at St. Mary's, with the constant vigilance of a nurse who knows that change comes without warning. The Thanksgiving planning has begun. I'm scaling down. No twenty-two people at the table. Anna and the kids. Elsa. Erik and Mamma. Peter, if he comes. A smaller table. A simpler meal. The same food — turkey, meatballs, cranberries, pie — but less of it, because the table is smaller and the cook is tired and the holiday is different when one of the guests is in a wheelchair. Paul said, "Make the full julbord for Christmas." I said, "We'll see." He said, "Linda. Make the full julbord. I want the pickled herring and the ham and Mamma's meatballs and the rice pudding. I want the whole thing." I looked at him. He looked at me. He knows what he's asking. He's asking for a last Christmas. Not the last — maybe not the last — but a last that matters. A full julbord. Everything. Nothing reduced. I said, "I'll make the full julbord." I will. I'll make two hundred meatballs. I'll pickle three kinds of herring. I'll boil the ham and glaze it golden. I'll make the rice pudding with the almond hidden inside. I'll set the table for however many we are and I'll light the candles and Paul will sit at the table in his wheelchair and the food will be on the table and the family will be in the room and we will have Christmas. The full Christmas. Because Paul asked. I made a November dinner: split pea soup, thick and golden. The soup that holds. The soup that says: winter is here. We're here. Eat. Paul ate it from a cup. I held the cup. He drank. The beeping machine beeped. The soup was warm. The dark was outside. We were inside. The full julbord. For Paul. For Christmas. For everything we've been and everything we are and everything we're running out of. The full julbord.

This is the soup I made that evening — the one Paul drank from a cup while the monitor beeped and the dark pressed against the windows. Split pea soup is not a delicate soup; it doesn’t ask anything of you except that you eat it. I chose the slow cooker because I needed to set something in motion in the morning and walk away, to be present with Paul instead of standing over a pot. It was ready by four o’clock, right as the light disappeared, and it was exactly right: thick, golden, warm, and filling in the way that only a good long-simmered soup can be.

Slow-Cooker Split Pea Soup

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 8 hours | Total Time: 8 hours 15 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 1 lb (about 2 cups) dried green split peas, rinsed and picked over
• 1 meaty ham bone, or 1 1/2 cups diced cooked ham
• 3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced
• 3 stalks celery, chopped
• 1 medium yellow onion, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 6 cups low-sodium chicken broth
• 2 cups water
• 1 bay leaf
• 1/2 tsp dried thyme
• 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
• 1/4 tsp black pepper
• Salt to taste

Instructions

1. Layer the slow cooker. Place the rinsed split peas in the bottom of a 6-quart slow cooker. Add the carrots, celery, onion, and garlic on top.
2. Add the ham and liquid. Nestle the ham bone (or scatter the diced ham) among the vegetables. Pour in the chicken broth and water.
3. Season. Add the bay leaf, thyme, smoked paprika, and black pepper. Stir gently to combine.
4. Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 8 hours, or on HIGH for 4 to 5 hours, until the peas have completely broken down and the soup is thick.
5. Finish the soup. Remove the ham bone and bay leaf. Shred any meat from the bone and stir it back into the soup. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
6. Serve. Ladle into bowls — or cups — and serve warm. The soup thickens further as it sits; thin with a splash of broth or water if needed when reheating.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 280 | Protein: 20g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 16g | Sodium: 520mg