Creating Goodness in the New Year

And a Hope-filling Broccoli Soup to Get You Started

Our beloved Winifred Beatrice

Friends, I intended to start off this year of newsletters with an inspirational story to add a little hopeful pep to your 2024 launch. Something chirpy. Something that felt like a ray of sunshine on these otherwise dreary winter days that have hung heavy over our small city (and perhaps yours, too.)

The preliminary titles tumbling around in my head sounded something along these lines:

“Let This New Year Create the New You!”

“How to Make 2024 Your Year of Wins”

Okay, they weren’t that cliché, but you sense where I was going with things, right?

But then last Thursday happened.

Wait! (Cue the tire screech.) First let me back up a few years.

In May of 2020 our family (minus me) caught the COVID-induced “Puppy Fever” that swept across the nation. I stalled and stammered every time they asked “Mama, can we pleeeeeease get a dog?” But after weeks of being trapped indoors with their huge doe eyes staring at me in pleading desperation, I relented. And on June 5, 2020, Winifred Beatrice aka “Winnie Bea” joined our family.

She was, of course, the children’s dog. I wouldn’t be doing any of the heavy lifting. No, Mama would lounge on the sofa eating bon-bons and perusing cooking magazines while the children fed Winnie and walked her and bathed her and cleaned up her accidents. Which was exactly how it worked out (minus the bon-bons) for a grand total of 3 hours.

The problem wasn’t the children; it was me. I’m a sucker for dogs. Their unabashed joy, tongue-lolling naiveté, and velvety soft bodies (especially their ears—Praise be to God, their ears!) pull me in every single time. I just can’t help myself. And let’s be honest, my family knew this. They rolled the die and won big.

But truth be told, she wasn’t a hard sell. From day one Winnie has been just so gosh darn easy to love. She’s everything you could ever want in a dog and more: she doesn’t mess in the house, she obeys commands, she doesn’t bark, she’s easy on the eyes (aka stunningly gorgeous), and she emanates unconditional love to every single person she meets (minus a small handful that she growls at from a safe distance because, let’s be honest, she’s a great judge of character and not everyone is a saint.)

Now fast forward 3 1/2 years to this November when we found out that Winnie was pregnant. We knew caring for a litter of puppies was not for the faint of heart, but we were so overjoyed to be able to have one of Winnie’s babies as part of our family that we felt up to the task. In addition we already had a growing list of loving families that were interested in taking her additional puppies.

Then, the Monday before Christmas, we discovered that Winnie had only one puppy in her belly. Novices that we were, we thought this was great. Winnie would only have one baby to care for and we wouldn’t have to give any of her others away! But it turns out that a singleton pup can create a lot of complications for both itself and its mama.

And that’s exactly what happened. Ten days later, Winnie had a c-section to deliver her baby, but it didn’t survive. Suddenly, our vision of a new puppy skittering around our floors, snuggling in our laps, and sleeping contentedly with Winnie evaporated into a thick vapor of billowing sadness.

My friend and her son were with us when we got the news. There are few people in this world who love our sweet Winnie more than my friend, Jeanine. While I stood in the kitchen and cried, Jeanine hugged me and cried, too. And then we mopped up our tears, looked around at the sad faces of our babes, and declared, “These children need to eat!”

And we got cooking.

I ransacked the fridge for any and all useable, non-molding ingredients: a few crowns of broccoli, a lopsided onion, a handful of stubby carrots, a stalk of borderline celery, and a jar of raw cashews. I began to envision of the dinner ahead of us. Jeanine and I got out the cutting boards and knives and commenced chopping. Ten minutes later, we had the beginnings of a soup simmering on the stovetop.

I’m not sure exactly why, when tragedy strikes, one of our instinctual responses is to apply food to the situation like a warm blanket or a clean bandage—the Meal Trains showing up after a cancer diagnosis, casseroles lining the countertops of the bereaved family—whether or not we eat it, food has an inherent ability to comfort.

But after we got the news of Winnie’s loss, it was the cooking that brought me the comfort I was looking for. Not because that soup would bring Winnie’s puppy back or take away the weeks of recovery and grieving that lay ahead for her or diminish the sadness in my children’s eyes. No, it just felt good to make something delicious and nourishing when everything around us felt the exact opposite of that.

Which brings me back to thinking about this new year. I hate to be the Debbie Downer of the group, but the truth is, friends, hard times are going to hit this year. Maybe it won’t be soul-stabbing and tragic, but something’s bound to get you down, to shower you in the blues, to leave you feeling like the bad is eclipsing the good because, well, that’s just how life goes here on good old Planet Earth.

But what if, in the midst of the difficult times, we committed to creating goodness—whether in the form of soup or poetry or paint on a canvas or whatever it is that buoys your heart with hope. Let’s just keep making it over and over again as proof to ourselves (and maybe everyone else) that there is always always always a place for good in this world. Now that’s a resolution worth keeping.

(And if you are in need of some soup to serve your soul with all the good feels, look no further. Below you’ll find a hope-filling recipe just for you—Happy New Year!)

Hope-Filling Broccoli Soup

I wish I could say this recipe made its first appearance that day after we got Winnie’s news, that God in all His culinary genius bent down and sprinkled me with inspiration the moment I opened my refrigerator door. But it didn’t happen that way. This recipe was actually born a couple of years ago out of my children’s obsession with Panera Bread’s Broccoli Cheese soup and my desperation to create a version that was delicious and nutritious. What resulted is now my go-to soup whenever I’m short on prep time, fail to plan for dinner, or, well, when my dog loses her pup—a recipe that brings hope to hopeless situations. We all need one of these in our back pocket, don’t we?

Ingredients:

1 medium onion, chopped

1 garlic clove, minced

1 carrot, finely chopped

1 celery stalk, finely chopped

8 c. fresh broccoli, coarsely chopped

6 c. vegetable broth, divided

1 c. raw cashews, soaked for 2 hours and drained (or if you are in a pinch—and don’t have the muscle of a high-speed blender to negate the soaking—just pour some boiling water over the cashews and let them set for 15 minutes while you do the chopping, and then drain. Problem solved.)

1/2 c. nutritional yeast

1 tbsp. lemon juice

1 tbsp. vegan Worcestershire sauce (If you aren’t vegan or vegetarian, you can use good ol’ Lea and Perrins here if you’d like—or whatever knock off brand you prefer.)

Salt and pepper to taste

Instructions:

In a large pot set over medium heat, sauté your onions in a couple tablespoons of water or broth for about 5 minutes or until softened and browning. Then add into the pot the garlic, carrots, and celery. Continue to sauté for another 5 minutes, splashing in a few more tablespoons of water (or broth) if the mixture starts to get too dry. Once the veggies have had their sizzle around the pot and started to soften, toss in the broccoli and give the whole party a big stir. Now, pour in the vegetable broth just till it covers the broccoli. It’s okay if a few of florets poke above the surface. We just need enough broth in there to keep the veggies cooking while we take our attention elsewhere. Bring the pot to a boil, cover with a lid, and reduce it to a nice polite simmer.

While the veggies are hot-tubbing, pour your drained cashews and remaining broth into your blender. Whiz it up to high and let it hum for a good minute or until the mixture is completely smooth; you don’t want any cashew bits lingering behind.

When the veggies in the pot have softened to your liking—this will probably take 20 minutes or so—pour in the cashew mixture, nutritional yeast, lemon juice, and Worcestershire sauce and simmer for a few more minutes, or until the soup starts to thicken. Add salt and pepper to your preference and ladle into bowls. If you’re looking for a fabulous way to round out the meal, serve this soup with some thick slices of grainy bread to sop up all the hope-filled flavors. But either way, soup’s ready.

Time to dig in.

Serves 8.