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Tomato Mushroom Soup -- Getting Closer to Babcia's Wigilia Bowl

December. The Christmas season in a Polish-Catholic family is not a season — it's a campaign. It starts the first Sunday of Advent and doesn't end until Epiphany on January 6th. There are rules. There are traditions. There are foods that can only be made at certain times for certain reasons, and violating any of these is punishable by disappointed looks from every Polish grandmother within a fifty-mile radius. Mom is already in full Christmas mode. The Cape Cod has lights on every surface. The nativity scene — the same one that Babcia gave Mom and Dad as a wedding gift — is on the mantle. The Advent wreath is on the kitchen table. There is a palpable energy in the Kowalski household that is part religious devotion and part aggressive holiday cheer. At the brewery, Babcia's Kitchen — the winter warmer — is ready. I tapped it on Monday and brought the first pint to Marcus. Honey, ginger, cinnamon, clove. It's warm and sweet and spiced and it tastes like walking into a kitchen where someone has been baking all day. Marcus drank half the pint in silence, then said, "This is going to be popular." He was right. It went on the board Tuesday and by Thursday the taproom was full of people ordering it. Someone called it "Christmas in a glass." I'll take it. At the Polish Center, Mrs. Wojcik is running holiday workshops — pierogi for Christmas, makowiec, kutia (a traditional wheat berry dessert I've never made), and most importantly, Babcia's mushroom soup. The mushroom soup. The Wigilia soup. The one that made Dad cry every year. I'm going to make it for Christmas Eve. This will be my second time — I made it last year, my first Christmas without Babcia, and it was close but not quite there. This year, I'm going to get it right. Mrs. Wojcik has offered to supervise, which means she'll stand behind me and make pointed observations while I work, which is the Polish grandmother version of a masterclass. Started the prep this week: ordered dried forest mushrooms from the Polish grocery on Mitchell Street. They're expensive — thirty dollars for a small bag — but they're the real thing, imported from Poland, and the flavor is incomparable. Babcia's card specifies "dried forest mushrooms, not button, not cremini, FOREST." She underlined FOREST twice. I hear you, Babcia.

With the dried forest mushrooms soaking on my counter and Mrs. Wojcik’s supervision looming, I’ve been in full mushroom-mode this week — rebuilding my instincts for coaxing deep, earthy flavor out of fungi before the real test on Christmas Eve. This tomato mushroom soup isn’t Babcia’s Wigilia soup, and I’m not pretending it is, but working through it helped me remember how mushrooms want to be treated: low heat, patience, and no shortcuts. Think of it as the warm-up lap before the race — and honestly, a bowl of it paired with a pint of Babcia’s Kitchen isn’t a bad way to spend a December evening.

Tomato Mushroom Soup

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

Ingredients

  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 lb cremini or mixed forest mushrooms, sliced
  • 1 oz dried forest mushrooms (porcini or mixed), rehydrated and chopped, soaking liquid reserved
  • 1 can (28 oz) crushed tomatoes
  • 3 cups vegetable or chicken broth
  • 1/2 cup reserved mushroom soaking liquid, strained
  • 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • Salt and black pepper to taste
  • 2 tablespoons sour cream or heavy cream, for serving
  • Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Rehydrate the dried mushrooms. Place dried mushrooms in a bowl and cover with 1 cup of hot water. Let soak 20–30 minutes until softened. Lift mushrooms out, chop roughly, and strain the soaking liquid through a fine-mesh sieve or coffee filter to remove grit. Set aside both the mushrooms and the liquid.
  2. Build the base. In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, melt butter with olive oil over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and lightly golden, about 8 minutes.
  3. Add garlic and fresh mushrooms. Stir in garlic and cook 1 minute until fragrant. Add the sliced fresh mushrooms in a single layer (work in batches if needed) and cook undisturbed for 3–4 minutes to get some color, then stir and continue cooking until they release their liquid and it evaporates, about 5 more minutes.
  4. Add rehydrated mushrooms and aromatics. Stir in the chopped rehydrated mushrooms, thyme, bay leaf, and smoked paprika. Cook 2 minutes.
  5. Add tomatoes and liquid. Pour in the crushed tomatoes, broth, and strained mushroom soaking liquid. Stir to combine. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low and simmer uncovered for 20 minutes, allowing flavors to meld.
  6. Season and finish. Remove the bay leaf. Taste and adjust salt and black pepper generously. For a slightly creamier texture, stir in sour cream or heavy cream off the heat, or swirl it into individual bowls when serving.
  7. Serve. Ladle into bowls and garnish with fresh parsley. Serve with crusty rye bread or a good sourdough.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 145 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 17g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 520mg

Jake Kowalski
About the cook who shared this
Jake Kowalski
Week 141 of Jake’s 30-year story · Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Jake is a twenty-nine-year-old brewery worker, newlywed, and proud Polish-American from Milwaukee's Bay View neighborhood. He didn't start cooking until his grandmother Babcia Helen passed away and left behind a stack of grease-stained recipe cards. Now he makes pierogi from scratch, smokes meats on a balcony smoker his landlord pretends not to notice, and writes for guys who want to cook good food but don't know a roux from a rub.

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