If you want to make my mother's lima bean and ham hock soup, really my Grandma Newlin's recipe, you will need 2 cups of dried lima beans (rinsed, sorted and soaked overnight); 3 ham hocks; 1 large, diced onion; 3 cloves garlic, smashed and peeled; 4 tomatoes, peeled and diced (or if you must, a 14.5 oz. can); 3 sliced carrots; 3 sliced celery stalks; pepper (the ham hocks usually are salty enough); and finally 1/4 C chopped parsley leaves. Put everything together in a pot, cover generously with water and cook all day. I added the zest and juice of one lemon; Herbs from Provence with Lavender (Morton & Bassett, San Francisco); and at least 1 C of a nice white wine. Add salt, if needed, at the end of cooking time. I never need to do that. If someone unexpected showed up at dinner time, my mother would throw in a few diced potatoes. Also, since Grandma Newlin came to America on the boat from Ireland and she had lots of people to feed every night, she always added the potatoes. I love potatoes so I do too.
I love this soup, or chowder, or stew, or whatever it is. When I shopped for the ingredients to make soup, I was using a recipe I got at Mandy's house this last visit. It had boneless, skinless turkey thighs instead of ham hocks. It also had the white wine and lemon zest and juice that I added to mom's recipe. I did make Mandy's healthy recipe and it was good but it only made me hungry for the real thing. I missed the tomatoes, carrots, potatoes, celery and mostly the ham hocks. So now I have healthy soup in the freezer and artery clogging, blood pressure raising, delicious soup in my tummy. And I feel like I spent an afternoon in my mom's kitchen.
I am glad you are writing your blog again!
ReplyDeleteIt is so interesting to think that I am here because of the various people that got together and made our family. That is quite fascinating!
I learned a lot about the family that I did not know before.
Thanks, Jessi. That is why I decided to restart the blog. It happens to me all the time that in the course of the day something very mundane triggers a memory of family stories. Since I am now the matriarch of our family, I feel a need to pass on these memories. They are just my memories and stories that my mother told me.
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