Sweet Potato Soup

Three weeks until the end of the school year. The seniors are checked out — mentally, emotionally, spiritually, they have already left the building and what remains are bodies in chairs with phones under desks. The juniors are stressed about finals. The freshmen are still, mercifully, engaged, because freshmen have not yet learned the art of performative disengagement. I am teaching "The Great Gatsby" to my juniors for the thirty-eighth time, and I still find new things in it, which is either a testament to Fitzgerald's genius or evidence that I am not paying sufficient attention, and I prefer to believe the former.

Noah is six weeks old and has settled into what Jennifer describes as "a reasonable human being who sleeps in four-hour increments," which is progress. I drove to White Plains on Saturday with challah and a container of chicken soup and held Noah while Jennifer took a shower, which is the greatest gift you can give a new mother: thirty uninterrupted minutes of hot water. Ethan showed me a drawing he made of our family, in which I am approximately eight feet tall and Marvin is green. I asked why Marvin was green. Ethan said, "Because green is a good color." I accepted this. Five-year-old art criticism requires no further analysis.

Marvin had an appointment with the neurologist on Wednesday. I drove. The appointment was forty-five minutes of questions that Marvin used to be able to answer and now hesitates on — what day is it, who is the president, count backward from one hundred by sevens. He got some right. He got some wrong. The neurologist adjusted his medication and spoke to me in the hallway afterward, using the careful language of a doctor explaining a trajectory, and I listened and nodded and drove home and made soup, because soup is what I make when the world presents me with information I am not ready to process. The soup doesn't fix anything. But it fills the pot, and filling the pot is something I can do, which is more than I can say for the rest of it.

The chicken soup I brought to Jennifer on Saturday was made from habit and muscle memory, the way all the best soups are. But the one I made for myself when I got home from the neurologist’s office was this one — sweet potato soup, because it is quiet and warm and asks almost nothing of me, and on that particular Wednesday, nothing was exactly what I had left to give. You fill the pot. You stir. The kitchen smells like something good is happening, even when it isn’t, and sometimes that is enough to get you through the evening.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 pounds sweet potatoes (about 3 medium), peeled and cubed
4 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
1 cup water
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
Salt and black pepper to taste
1/2 cup coconut milk or heavy cream (optional, for richness)
Fresh parsley or a drizzle of olive oil, for serving

Instructions

Soften the aromatics. Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5–6 minutes until softened and translucent. Add the garlic and cook another 1 minute until fragrant.
Add sweet potatoes and spices. Add the cubed sweet potatoes to the pot along with the cumin, smoked paprika, and ginger. Stir to coat everything in the spices and cook for 2 minutes.
Simmer until tender. Pour in the broth and water. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low. Cover and simmer for 20–25 minutes, until the sweet potatoes are completely tender and yield easily to a fork.
Blend until smooth. Remove the pot from heat. Use an immersion blender to puree the soup directly in the pot until smooth and creamy. Alternatively, transfer in batches to a stand blender, blending carefully with the lid slightly vented to allow steam to escape.
Finish and season. Stir in the coconut milk or cream if using. Taste and adjust salt and pepper. If the soup is thicker than you like, add a splash more broth or water and stir to combine.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and finish with a drizzle of olive oil, a pinch of smoked paprika, or fresh parsley. Serve with crusty bread or eat it quietly at the kitchen table, which is also a fine choice.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sweet Potato Soup — What I Make When the World Gives Me Too Much to Hold