I’ve recently come to terms with something: I am going to be one of those old ladies that is always complaining about her aches and pains. Yup. I know this because I’m already doing it. And I’m about to set it down in writing. Here goes: an acute muscle spasm of unknown origin on my right shoulder kept me awake in surprising pain all night Monday. Compensating for that has lead to a flare up of excruciating bursitis that’s frankly immobilized my left shoulder today. I’m doped up on muscle relaxer and sluggish from hours just sitting, trying not to move. But yet, dear readers, I had to eat – and nothing delivery would do. So, I get up, rummage one-handedly through the fridge and my pantry shelves, and I throw together some soup – some warm, bright, savory, light, fresh, healing and wholesome soup. With a sudden surge of energy, I find myself taking pictures before I even realize I’m doing it. And now, here I type – with my right hand only, my left can’t reach or hold itself to the keyboard without shooting a searing pain from my shoulder to the tip of my middle finger – because, well, I’m obsessive that way. If I’m going to be a wimp whose arms just decide to stop working one day, I’m at least going to be a well fed wimp.
Simple Sick Day Kitchen Sink Pork Chop Soup
1 medium onion
1 medium carrot
1 stalk celery
6-8 tbs diced tomatoes
8 cups chicken stock
sea salt, cracked black pepper, oregano
1 smoked pork chop
1 can cannellini beans
4 cups loose fresh spinach leaves
1 cup small pasta
parmigiano reggiano cheese
I call this a kitchen sink soup because I just threw all sorts of scraps and ends and stuff I found in the freezer and fridge – everything I could find, really – to make this. I had an old bag of celery, from which I was able to harvest a still snappy center stalk, a stray carrot, and a found-in-the-back-of-the-drawer onion — all of these I washed, peeled, and chopped roughly. Nights like these are why it’s always good to have basic mirepox ingredients like these on hand.
These I very ungracefully chuck into my wok, which is sizzling with a few glugs of EVOO on the surface. After adding a dash of salt, a generous tablespoon or so of black pepper, and about two tablespoons of dried oregano, I let everything sweat and soften for a few minutes.
I wasn’t feeding a crowd, and I didn’t want a tomato sauce, so I only add about half the contents of a can of diced tomatoes in juice. I toss everything well, and let it all simmer for a few moments.
Just enough time to chop up my chop. This perfectly smoked, perfectly trimmed pork chop is from Blood Farms, and it’s been in my freezer for a few weeks now. It doesn’t take too long to defrost, and then I…
… cut all the meat off the bone, and then into bite-sized pieces.
Everything gets chucked into the pan – meat and bone (why loose all that beautiful smoked seasoning?). A quick stir later…
… and I add my chicken stock. I bring this to a boil, lower to a gentle simmer, and let cook for about 30 minutes.
Oh, right — my beans! I didn’t think the soup would be hearty enough without beans, so I crack a can of cannellini, which I drain and rinse before I add them to the pot.
While this is simmering, I boil off about a cup of ditalini pasta in salted water. I don’t cook it in the soup because I don’t want to add all that cloudy starch to my broth.
I made a spinach salad at a party the other day, and I had one bunch left over, just about to start its conversion process into compost. I salvaged the crispest leaves and threw them in the soup during the last 2 minutes of its simmer.
They melt beautifully into the soup.
The final ingredient: this lump of leftover parmigiano reggiano cheese – the perfect nutty salty substance to top off all the vegetable and porky goodness swimming in my bowl.
A luscious, steaming broth, made slightly smoky by the bites of chop ladled throughout, enriched by the white beans and tender pasta, and freshened by the carrots and spinach and spice. It might have been easier to crack a can of Campbell’s soup (if I had one), but then I would have to deal with preservatives and salt and stuff I couldn’t control. Although my left arm is still no better than a vestigial appendage, and my right lung feels like it can’t take a full breath (this getting old shit has got to stop!), my tummy and soul feel totally satisfied – almost giddy, even. If chicken soup is for the soul, here’s hoping pork soup is for the shoulder…

































