Soup Night: Recipes for Creating Community Around a Pot of Soup

572 Pages·2013·20.37 MB·English

by  Maggie Stuckey

Contents
Cover
Title Page
Contents
Introduction: Welcome to Soup Night
1. Soup Kettle Basics
2. Fall
3. Winter
4. Spring
5. Summer
6. Start Your Own Soup Night
Contributors
Recipes by Season
Metric Conversion Charts
Copyright
Share Your Experience!
Introduction
Welcome to Soup Night!
At latitude 45 degrees 30 minutes north, almost exactly halfway
between the equator and the north pole, it’s fully dark by 6 PM in
January. In Portland, Oregon, the streetlights have been on for
almost an hour. A bit before 6, in an older, sedate neighborhood on
Portland’s urban east side, front doors all up and down the street
begin to open. For the next 10 to 15 minutes, individuals, couples,
and families come out their front doors and stroll easily but with
purpose in the same direction. They’re all heading toward the
same house, just about in the middle of the block, on the left-hand
side.
Everyone is carrying something. Some of the adults have
gigantic salad bowls, or warm bread wrapped in dish towels, or
those familiar rectangular pans that hold the promise of
homemade brownies. Some have a wineglass threaded through
the fingers of one hand. Kids skip ahead, bright plastic cups firm in
little fists or looped onto belts through the handle. Most people
have spoons, wrapped in paper napkins and tucked into jeans
pockets. One dapper fellow wears a cloth napkin folded just so in
the breast pocket of his sports coat, like a fancy silk handkerchief;
one soup spoon stands in the exact middle. And each person in this
gentle parade carries a soup bowl. An empty soup bowl.
It’s Soup Night on Stanton Street.
My First Soup Night
My brother and his family live on the Soup Night street. One day
some months ago, my niece Meg (the most spectacular teenager in
the western hemisphere) happened to mention Soup Night in the
midst of telling me about something else. “Whoa,” I said, “back up.
What’s Soup Night?”
As she started describing it, in the first five seconds I knew this
was something very special. So I contacted the next host and asked
if I could come as a guest. That first evening, I was totally
enchanted at the sight of the parade of people strolling down the
sidewalk, carrying their empty soup bowls. When I arrived at the
host house, people assumed I was new to the neighborhood. They
immediately shook my hand and introduced themselves, pointing
out where their house was in relation to where we were standing. It
wasn’t long before I was able to make it plain how I was connected
(my brother lives on your street), and why I was there (I want to
write about you). But it was absolutely clear that if I had been a new
neighbor, I would have been engulfed in a very warm, very genuine
welcome.
Everyone wants to live on this street. People go door to door, trying
to find someone who’s thinking of selling.
— Marty
Since that first evening, I have attended more than a dozen Stanton
Street Soup Nights. Over and over, I have heard the families talk
about, and have observed for myself, the almost magical sense of
community that they have created on their block, and the many
ripples of positive benefits that flow from it. I have been happy
witness to some amazing scenes and heard some great stories, and
together they form the core of this book.
Neighborhoods and
Neighborliness
Stanton Street runs east–west through the Irvington neighborhood
in inner Northeast Portland — that is, smack in the urban core. In a
city known for strong neighborhood associations and liberal
politics, Irvington stands out on both scores. It is settled, sedate,
and quiet — a grand old lady of a neighborhood. The streets are
wide, the trees are tall, the garages (if any) are tucked away behind
the house or off to the side. The houses date from the early part of
the twentieth century: a mix of Craftsman bungalows, Foursquares
(which in Portland are called “Old Portland”), and a few
architectural styles with no specific names except “traditional.”
This particular block of Stanton Street mirrors the overall look and
feel of the larger Irvington neighborhood. (By the way, I should tell
you that the amazing close-knit block that started me thinking
about Soup Nights is not actually on Stanton Street. It’s very
close by, but not on that exact street. I shifted the geography ever
so slightly to give these folks a little bit of privacy protection.
Besides, I quite like saying “Stanton Street Soup Night.” In the
interest of complete disclosure, I should also tell you that I
played around with time, in this one way: I smooshed some
scenes together, as if they had happened on the same night.)
It is completely residential and, in spite of a cheerful cacophony
of kid noises, has an air of serenity. All the houses are single-family
homes; large mature trees line the street on both sides; there is
minimal auto traffic. Most houses boast a pretty garden or cool
green lawn in front, and in every single case — this is very
important — the front yard is open to the sidewalk. There are no
privacy fences, no gates, nothing that walls off any one home from
the rest of the block.
Urban planners, take note: By this one simple measure, a
profound sense of openness, of inclusion, is created. And it
perpetuates itself. There is nothing in the city ordinances or
building codes that would prevent anyone from adding these
features to their front yard, but on this block, no one would even
think of doing such a thing. It would close them off from their
neighbors.
Stanton Street is in most ways typical of the larger Irvington
neighborhood of which it is a part, and Irvington in turn epitomizes
many of the qualities that have put Portland on the progressive
map. Portland has, for one example, developed a national
reputation for its strong network of neighborhood associations
and the official support structure for them within city government.
Irvington has such an association, and it is one of the largest, most
active, and most effective. In the Irvington neighborhood, no one
need go bowling alone. So, by all accounts Portland already has in
place the climate necessary for a deep and abiding sense of
community among all its citizens. And yet. . . .