Soup Night (36 page)

Hiram, Ohio

Thirty-some years ago, the chaplain at this liberal arts college not far from Cleveland, greatly distressed at the level of hunger in the small village of Hiram, proposed an idea: Rather than the regular dinner in the college dining hall, once a month students could choose a much simpler meal of bread and soup. The cost to the students would be the same, but because the cost to prepare the soup supper was less, $1 per meal would be donated to a local nonprofit.

The tradition continues, with some tweaking. Every Thursday of the spring quarter (January, February, March), Bread and Soup Suppers are held in the college’s older, smaller dining hall. The students no longer choose between soup and the regular dinner — soup
is
the meal. Faculty, staff, and townspeople are invited, in addition to students. The supper costs $5 cash or student swipe, and $1 of each purchase is donated to local nonprofits that address hunger relief.

Jason Bricker-Thompson
, director of the Office of Civic Engagement, reports that some of the faculty members have children, now adults, who have “grown up on our soup. Some people have been coming since the beginning, for 30 years. We sit at round tables, which promotes conversation. We so seldom have time to just sit and talk. But it’s more than that. Most people see it as an opportunity to contribute to people in need, to demonstrate solidarity with the less fortunate.”

Others agree. When the student newspaper in 2012 carried a story about the event on its 30-year anniversary, several alumni reminisced about their own experiences. One woman told about her freshman-year boyfriend who went to Bread and Soup only to please her, and eventually admitted he didn’t really like soup all that much; she married him all the same. Several mentioned that they still make soup suppers in the winter months, and think of their college friends when they do. I can summarize a common refrain among all the comments this way: “It felt really good to know we were helping people, but that was only part of it. The soup was always great!”

• www.hiram.edu
  

Recipe from
Philip and Suzy Poll
, Houston, Texas

Serves 6

These days most supermarkets carry roasted peppers in a jar. They are a wonderful convenience, but if you aren’t pressed for time, roasting raw peppers yourself adds a hint of smokiness that’s missing from bottled peppers.

• 7–8 large red bell peppers
  
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
  
• ¹
  ⁄
  ₂
  cup chopped onion
  
• ¹
  ⁄
  ₂
  tablespoon minced garlic
  
• 5 cups chicken broth
  
• ¹
  ⁄
  ₂
  teaspoon paprika
  
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste
  
• 1
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₂
  teaspoons brown sugar
  
• 1 cup half-and-half
  
• ³
  ⁄
  ₄
  cup grated Parmesan cheese
  
• ¹
  ⁄
  ₄
  teaspoon cayenne pepper
  
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper
  
• 24 large uncooked shrimp, peeled, deveined, coarsely chopped
  
• ¹
  ⁄
  ₂
  teaspoon Creole seasoning
  
• Minced parsley, for garnish
  

1. 1.
   Roast the peppers: Preheat the broiler, and broil the bell peppers, turning until the skin is blistered and blackened on all sides. Place them in a paper bag and let stand for 10 minutes. Peel and seed the peppers. Cut 2 peppers into matchstick-size strips and set aside. Coarsely chop the remaining peppers and set aside.
   
2. 2.
   Heat 1 tablespoon of the oil in a large soup pot. Add the onion and garlic and sauté over medium-low heat until translucent, about 8 minutes. Add the chopped peppers and broth and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer until the peppers are very tender, about 15 minutes.
   
3. 3.
   Using an immersion blender, purée the soup until smooth. Mix in the paprika, tomato paste, and brown sugar. Simmer for 5 minutes to blend the flavors.
   
4. 4.
   Add the half-and-half and the Parmesan. Add the cayenne, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Keep the soup warm, but do not allow it to boil.
   
5. 5.
   Heat the remaining 1 tablespoon oil in a medium skillet over medium-high heat. Add the shrimp and sauté until cooked through, about 3 minutes. Stir in the Creole seasoning and reserved red pepper strips, and heat through.
   
6. 6.
   Ladle the soup into bowls and top with the shrimp mixture. Sprinkle lightly with parsley and serve.
   

The skins of bell peppers don’t disintegrate during cooking, and many people (me, for instance) consider those tough little bits less than tasty. It’s not feasible to peel peppers in the usual sense of that word, but the skins are easily removed after the peppers are roasted. Plus, roasting adds wonderfully to the flavor.

To roast peppers, fire up your outdoor grill, broiler, or even a burner on the gas stove, and place a pepper directly on the flame. Use tongs to turn it so all sides are exposed, roasting until the skin starts to bubble and turn black. Pop the roasted pepper into a plastic or paper bag, shut it tightly, and set on the counter for a few minutes. When the pepper has cooled enough to handle, it’s easy to scrape off the peel. Then remove the seeds and membranes, and chop or dice as needed. And make it easier on yourself by paying attention when you select the fresh peppers in the market. Those with deepest channels between the lobes will be harder to peel.

Aurora, Illinois

Julaine is another person who was inspired by the great success of Soup Night at a friend’s house to start one in her own neighborhood. She candidly admits it was only partially successful.

It’s important, I think, to realize that as wonderful as Soup Nights can be, success is not automatic. You might remember that Julie Dahlberg (
page 58
) stopped doing Soup Night when it got too big and too boisterous. Julaine, to her very great credit, is honest about her experience. Also to her credit, she isn’t giving up!

“I got the inspiration from a woman I know, a single gal who invited all her neighbors over for a soup supper.” (She’s speaking of Kate Allen, whose story is on
page 107
.) “They were strangers to her and to each other, and I thought that was very impressive. I decided to try it, because it fit right in with what I had in mind when we were house hunting. I was more interested in good neighbors than in a wonderful house, because I’ve moved a lot in my life and realize that neighborhood matters much more than the appearance of the house.

“So I decided to try a Soup Night too. I invited half friends and half people I didn’t know. I got their names from friends, and included that on their invitations, which I put in people’s mailboxes. To my great disappointment, the new people didn’t come. The people who already knew us did come, and we had a lovely evening, but still . . .”

Julaine believes she learned some good lessons, and she’s determined to try again. In particular, she will make a point to speak to all the folks she doesn’t know and invite them in person, rather than leaving an invitation in the mailbox.

Serves 6

This lovely soup features the freshness of cucumbers, the light zing of buttermilk, and the subtle punch of horseradish — refreshing, unusual, and delicious.

• 3 English cucumbers, peeled and chopped
  
• 3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
  
• 2 teaspoons sugar
  
• 1
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₂
  teaspoons prepared horseradish
  
• 1
  ¹
  ⁄
  ₂
  teaspoons salt
  
• 1 teaspoon white pepper
  
• 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
  
• 6 cups buttermilk
  
• 3 cups cooked shrimp, shelled and deveined, with 6 for garnish
  
• 2 tablespoons chopped chives, for garnish
  

1. 1.
   Combine the cucumbers, mustard, sugar, horseradish, salt, pepper, lemon juice, and buttermilk in a blender or food processor and purée until smooth.
   
2. 2.
   If the shrimp are large, chop them into bite-size pieces. Reserve 6 whole shrimp for a garnish.
   
3. 3.
   Combine the chopped shrimp and the cucumber mixture, cover, and chill at least 1 hour; more is better.
   
4. 4.
   Serve the soup very cold, each bowl garnished with chopped chives and 1 whole shrimp.
   

Variation:
If you have access to garlic chives and they happen to be blooming, sprinkle some of the dainty white flowerets onto each serving.

Make ahead?
It’s necessary — see step 3.

For large crowds:
Certainly, although you might want proportionally lesser increments of shrimp, to ease your budget.

Theologian, pastor, teacher, and author, Bruce Epperly spent most of his working career in academic settings. With his wife, also an academic minister, he began monthly Soup Nights some 30 years ago, bringing together students, other faculty, relatives, and assorted friends for an evening of warm soup and cool conversations about hot ideas.

“We saw it as an occasion for not just eating, but talking and sharing ideas about common interests. Our students especially enjoyed it because they seldom had a chance to have a meal in someone’s home. Here it is 30 years later, and I still hear from some of them. They all remark about our Soup Night and what it meant to them.” The Epperlys served at several universities during their career, and Soup Night was an important part of their lives in each place.

In an article for the online community Jesus, Jazz, and Buddhism, which he has graciously allowed me to share with you, Bruce speaks eloquently about the intangibles of Soup Night:

“It’s about sharing [a meal] . . . , but it’s also about something more — casual, unpretentious, joyful gatherings with friends and loved ones. And that’s what makes Soup Night special.

“Soup Night isn’t fancy, but it is celebrative. It brings people together simply to share food, drink, and friendship. We aren’t trying to accomplish anything and we have no agenda. We gather for the joy of it. Soup Night, like other intimate meals, is a celebration of life and a recognition of our gratitude for Earth’s bounty and our friendships and one another. Soup Night, for us, is like church — we give thanks, we honor important events in our lives, we honor achievement, and we share pain. There are tears, but more often there is laughter.”