White Bean and Sausage Soup
Riffing on infants and the Universal Sound
Last Thursday, Family CWD welcomed our newest hand onto the ranch. In the week since he’s been home, I’ve been constantly reminded of the intricacies and challenges of early parenthood. How quickly we forget waking up every few hours; how easily we shrug off the constant feedings1; how simple it all seems in retrospect.
Of course, the blessings outweigh the curses, by far. But still, a half dozen or so hours of uninterrupted sleep would be nice.
The first night we brought Baby CWD2 home, trying to calm him down after he wailed from when Mrs. CWD and I went to sleep3 until about 1am, I took him downstairs and and tried to soothe him on the couch. As I lay there after he settled, I had “Universal Sound” by Tyler Childers running through my head. The song describes — as best as I can tell — the search for stillness, for calm, the oneness you can only find through connecting with your breath.
Who’dathunk there would be a country song about meditation?
My mind’s a mile a minute, my thoughts they bark like hounds / I focus on my breathing and the universal sound.
This time of year, with or without a new baby, it’s easy to let your mind race, listening to your thoughts bark — howl, even — over the smallest things, the biggest things4. It can feel overwhelming5. And for us, after nine months of anticipation, having a baby, a new baby, another baby, a crying baby — things suddenly felt really, extraordinarily real. But, listening to Baby CWD made pterodactyl noises6, I found a little bit of calm by focusing on his breathing, the universal sound.
I’ve been an on and off again practitioner of breathwork and meditation for the last seven or eight years. I think it’s one of the most valuable things you can do — right up there with exercise. It’s also something I wish I did more of, precisely because it is so helpful, with real benefits to every part of your life7. I’m a huge fan of Brian MacKenzie and Emily Hightower’s SH//FT approach, which links your breath to the way you react to stress. By connecting with your breath, with whatever approach you take, you can start to recognize how your body, your nervous system, handles discomfort8. When you can recognize when you “flip your lid” and are getting stressed, you can observe that, respond to that, adapt to that — and change the way you respond9. Awareness is key, and I think breathing is the key to becoming aware.
I’m close enough to enlightenment10 to know that I’m not above stress. The last week has certainly reminded me of that11, relearning infant routines, relearning sleep schedules, rereading books and advice and quickly scribbled notes to self. But at the end of the day, it’s nice to be able to recognize that in the grand scheme of things, we’ve got a lot to be thankful for, and really, we’re too blessed to be stressed12.
So let’s embrace that and make some white bean and sausage soup. This starts off a lot like pasta e fagioli, but is just different enough to warrant making them both in quick succession.
Start off by browning a couple sausages worth of sausage in a large cast iron pan. Remove the meat, place it on a plate, and dump the rendered fat and juices from the pan into a stock pot. While the sausage is browning, you can dice up an onion, several cloves of garlic, some carrots, and celery13. Put these in the stock pot over medium heat and cook until softened and just starting to take on color.
Once the veggies are soft and aromatic, dump in a can or two of tomatoes, pour in four or so cups of stock, and plop in some cheese rinds if you have them14. Bring this to a boi15l, then cut to a simmer for at least 30 minutes and up to several hours.
After your base has cooked down, dump in some finely sliced kale, a can or two of white beans, and your reserved sausage. Bring this back to a boil, and again cut to a simmer and let it stew until the kale is wilted down and the sausage warm.
Serve topped with a mountain of freshly grated cheese and some nice crusty bread.
I don’t have much else for you this week. Whatever, however, you celebrate, enjoy it — here’s to a weekend that leaves you feeling happy, healthy, and strong.
Mrs. CWD is, of course, a saint and amazing — but we already knew that.
For clarity, the original Baby CWD will henceforth be known as Kiddo CWD and this new addition will be referred to as Baby CWD.
8pm, for the record.
To channel Tolstoy: Every stressful experience is stressful in its own way.
That’s a Happy Sleeper reference, for those in the know.
If you take nothing else from this, I’d suggest giving box breathing a shot. I’ve found myself on many occasions unconsciously falling into this pattern when tension is high — once, even, immediately after a propane grill exploded onto me.
Mrs. CWD put this well into practice during labor. She’s amazing.
I had the occasion to practice this on the second night, when the little guy did it again. I anticipate this skill will get lots of practice over the next couple weeks.
But not there yet.
Remember, I’m a guy who likes his 8 hours.
The fact that the last few nights have been much easier doesn’t hurt, either!
You can also roughly chop these things and then drop them in a food processor and mince them into a semi-paste. I like the more rustic approach of hand-dicing, but it is time-consuming.
Parm is great, we used High Lawn Italian Cheddar.
You could also add a splash of red or white wine here if you’re feeling saucy (pun!).
Such a comfort food-- gives you the warmth of soup with the heartiness of a stew. Love this recipe. I need to start saving my cheese rinds.
To breathe easy, for all of us always, is my holiday wish.