Tuscan Kale & Sausage Soup

How we make it.

1 pound pork sausage (I use Jake's Country)
1 onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, sliced
1/4 cup Marsala
1 pound fingerling potatoes, sliced into discs
15 ounces cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
2 quarts (8 cups) chicken stock
2 bunches kale, stripped and chopped
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 cup heavy cream
Juice of half a lemon

In a large dutch oven pot over medium, brown sausage for 7 minutes or so, breaking up as small as possible into a nice little sausage gravel. Remove sausage from the pot and place on a plate with paper towels to drain excess fat. Discard most of the fat from your pot, I just throw mine in the yard. Place pot back on the stove on medium heat and add chopped onion, cooking for 5 or so minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook for a minute more. Add Marsala and scrape up any burnt bits with a wooden spoon from around the pan, cooking for 2 minutes more to dissolve the liquid. Add potatoes, sausage, beans and chicken stock, stirring to combine. Bring the soup to a boil and once boiling, lower heat to a simmer. Let simmer uncovered on the stove for 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add kale, cream and the juice of half a lemon, stirring to combine. Partially cover and simmer for 15 minutes. Serve warm and enjoy!

Why we make it.

This hearty, satisfying soup comes from the incredibly famous Corn Salad Claire, who doesn't cook much, but turns out bangers when she does. She served it to us on New Year's Eve this year and this puppy got dog eared in my brain faster than you can say Bob's your uncle. Claire is a get it done kind of gal and this soup does exactly that at dinnertime. A real crowd pleaser from the pleaser of crowds, it’s as sturdy as it is satisfying. Deep green kale floats on the foreground of an unctuous pork sausage soup, rounded out by the creaminess of potatoes and white beans. A splash of cream at the end is optional, of course, but binds it all together with a silky finish as only a full fat dairy drizzle can do. Whip this sucker up on Saturday morning and come home from all those grade school gyms and basketball buzzers to a deeply luscious winter dinner. That's why we make it.