Authors: Maggie Stuckey
Portland, Oregon
Liz Schellberg
loves her Soup Night so much, she organized her wedding around the same theme!
“Our wedding in 2006 was a Soup Party. The whole event was at our house, both the ceremony and then the celebration. It was a second wedding for both of us, and we didn’t want anything formal. A soup celebration seemed just the right thing: let’s just open our house to our families and friends, and serve them soup. Family came from Seattle, Idaho, and California, and I made four gallons of split pea soup (this was February). The ceremony itself lasted about 10 minutes, and then we just ate and laughed and hugged.”
Liz has been doing Soup Nights for more than 20 years, and has lots of good ideas to share. One that particularly captured my heart is her table covering: she puts down brown butcher paper, with crayons nearby, and everyone — kids and grownups alike — has fun doodling. I’ll let her tell you the whole story.
“In my former neighborhood, another family was hosting Soup Nights every other week. I went several times and found it a great way to meet interesting people and have interesting conversations. It was like an instant welcome to the neighborhood. Then that family moved away and I thought I’d just start doing it. So I bought myself a big canning pot and started the tradition at my home. That was in 1990, I think, and I have continued doing them through kids, kids growing up, divorce, moving and remarriage . . . that is to say, life.
“About 10 years ago we moved to a new neighborhood and started all over again. It was my way of introducing myself to the neighbors.
“I invite everyone I meet, everyone in the neighborhood, everyone I work with, and everyone I have ever known. I still do printed invitations, on a half-sheet of paper. I put all the dates for the whole season, and take it around the neighborhood. Then, before each one, I give people reminders. I have an e-mail list, and I distribute flyer reminders around the neighborhood; recently I’ve added Facebook announcements, though I am a neophyte at social media. I encourage people to bring friends, and some who first came that way have come back multiple times.
“My formula has been pretty constant from the start: Soup Night once a month, on Sunday night; it’s usually the second Sunday, though I am not a slave to a particular week, if something like the Super Bowl or Mother’s Day gets in the way. I usually start in September, and then go through May or June. Pretty much the school year. I have learned over the years to just skip December, there’s too much going on. And then sometimes I do extras, on a spontaneous basis — like when we have an ice storm or those rare times when we’re snowed in. I just walk around the neighborhood and knock on doors and invite people.
That’s one of the things about Soup Night, it pulls people back from being overprogrammed and automated. Simple things like dominoes have a great appeal. I look at the mix of ages we have here, and I know it’s the simple things that capture people.
“When I’m inviting people who are new to neighborhood, they usually say something like ‘It’s really wonderful to move into a neighborhood where people know each other.’ No one has ever said, ‘Go away and don’t bother me.’ For me, a big part of it is walking around the neighborhood each month, passing out invitations and talking to people. Soup Night takes us back to earlier times, to a gentler way of doing things.
“Some folks come almost all the time, some never. It makes no difference to me. I have had as many as 50 and as few as 1; most often there will be between 10 and 20. The large crowds are fun, but if it is a small group, I get to talk and relax more. Somehow, I have never run out of soup, and any excess goes in the freezer for another day.
“I make the soup and others bring salad, bread, or dessert — and friends, although I really have to encourage them to bring other people and assure them that it is not presumptuous or intrusive.
“Some soups are traditional. In November, I always do some kind of savory squash. In February, split pea (because of our wedding). In April, some sort of carrot soup. I usually make everything vegan, and set out separate bowls of milk products. So if it’s a soup that in other settings would usually be a cream soup, then people can add that. Same with meat — I marinate it and cook it ahead, and set up separate bowls.
“I put paper down to serve as a tablecloth, with crayons for doodling. I will often get thematic with fall leaves on the table, or paper to cut snowflakes, or whatever. This gives both kids and adults entertainment and conversation, and makes for easy cleanup. It also lets parents with younger kids relax, less worried about spills.
“Putting the brown paper down on the table is such a simple thing, but it really draws people together. One year Soup Night was close to my birthday, 50-something, and that time we didn’t have any kids. I had drawn candles all around the edges of the paper, and the adults took the crayons and started coloring them in. It was really beautiful — a work of art. I hated to have to get rid of it.
“I have a coffee table with three sets of dominoes out for the little kids. You would think that kids these days would get bored with dominoes, but they play with them endlessly — all ages. If for some reason I don’t put them out, they all ask me, Where are the dominoes? I think that’s one of the things about Soup Night, it pulls people back — back from being overprogrammed and automated. Simple things like dominoes have a great appeal. I look at the mix of ages we have here, and I know it’s the simple things that capture people.
“I think I probably will do Soup Nights until I can’t any more. They are human. They are easy. They force me to clean my house once a month. They make our neighborhood a friendly place where people know and relate to each other. They bring many parts of my life together.”
Recipe from
Elizabeth Schellberg
, Portland, Oregon
Serves 6–8
Elizabeth says: One of the best cookbooks around, in my opinion, is
The Best of Cooking Light Soups and Stews
.
That’s where I originally found the recipe that I have over time adapted into my own version. I believe the combination of the chipotle chiles, Marion-Blackberry Chipotle Sauce, chocolate, and Korean hot bean paste is what gives my version of this chili its unique taste.
And I really did win an award with it. A few years ago, I was working temporarily in Seattle, consulting with a company that designs cutting-edge medical equipment. The head of the department I was working with decided it would be fun to have a chili cook-off, and invited everyone to enter, including me. Because of the timing of this event, I had to make the chili at my home in Portland and transport it to Seattle, which meant making it a day ahead. And I’m pretty sure that’s why I won, because as we all know, chili is always better the next day!
Note:
I use Korean hot bean paste or “goh-chu-chong” (there are many variations on the spelling) instead of chili powder in
any
recipe. Find it in Asian markets. It is very hot and spicy but with a sweetness that softens the heat.
Make ahead?
Liz says, “It is always better the next day, so make it ahead if you can.”
For large crowds:
“For Soup Night, I always make double or triple this recipe,” Liz says. “I figure if some is good, more is better.”
For vegetarians:
Skip the sirloin altogether. Sauté the onion and garlic along with the spices (step 3). Be sure to add some of the fruit-flavored chipotle sauce at step 3.
Serves 6–8
There are lots of versions of taco soup floating around in cyberspace, and I’m sure they’re all good, but this one, the creation of my book-group buddy Marilyn Katz, is extremely easy, delicious, and — thanks to using four different types of beans — very colorful.
Make ahead?
Sure. It improves with age.
For large crowds:
Easy to multiply, and not expensive.
For vegetarians:
Leave out the meat. It won’t be authentically taco-like, but still good. Also, check out Jeni Sammons’s Tortilla Soup,
page 152
.