St. Joseph's Day Soup

'Wednesday is St. Patrick's Day', I said. 'And Friday is St. Joseph's Day! And we go to a farm! And do swimming!', responded Miss Milia. 'Yes! But instead of a farm and swimming, we'll make some soup!'

I think it is safe to say that 2-year-olds don't generally have the best grasp on time. 'In a minute' and 'in a month' are basically the same thing in the 2-year-old mind. Basically it means not right this second. But really, the memory on this girl is astounding. We mentioned last week that both St. Paddy's Day and St. Joseph's Day were coming up. We also said that we are going to go to a farm (weather permitting) on Saturday. I've no idea where the swimming bit entered into her head. It does sound nice though, doesn't it? Almost like what one should actually do on St. Joseph's Day. You know, a little swimming on a farm to truly celebrate the life and wonders of St. Joseph.

But instead, we'll have soup. Not just any old soup, mind you. Today we are having St. Joseph's Day Soup. And I've been looking forward to it since last year's pot.

Typically I would delve into the history of the celebrated saint in honor of their day, but, really, what does one say about our beloved St. Joseph? (Other than my mom's thoughts, when I told her about my yummy soup, 'Honey, you Catholics sure have a lot of holidays!') However, something should be said. Joseph never gets enough props, and I challenge you to say otherwise.

And so, today, being March 19th, is the Feast of St. Joseph. He was the husband of Mary and the adoptive father of Jesus. (My copy of The Lives of the Saints calls him Jesus' foster-father, but I find that wildly offensive. Apart from God, obviously, Joseph was the only father Jesus ever knew.) He is the patron saint of home and family. He is also the patron saint of the Universal Church, workers, and carpenters. Interestingly, today is not a Holy Day of Obligation. In fact, the Feast of St. Joseph is not even really celebrated in the United States. Everyone here is undoubtedly still recovering from their hangovers from green beer, and can't be too bothered with a saint that does not involve another trip to the pub. Unless of course it is a saint that sells chocolate and lingerie. (That would be St. Valentine, in case it wasn't completely clear.)

Italy is largely where St. Joseph's Day is celebrated, and the further south you go, the more impressive the festivities become. Apparently in Sicily families cook dish after dish after dish (sometimes up to a hundred dishes, I hear) in celebration, and hopes of intercession. Most of the dishes are fried, causing Joseph to also be called San Giuseppe Frittelaro, Saint Joseph the Fryer. These dishes range from cream-puffs to rice balls to artichokes. However, all the dishes are meatless because the day always falls during lent.

I have not dabbled with any of the fried dishes in honor of St. Joseph, namely because the idea of deep-frying is still slightly scary to me. (I really must invest in one of those Fry-Daddy's sometime.) Instead, I have begun opting for St. Joseph's soup, which is so good I've thought about making it at other times during the year. However, I like to have food traditions. For the same reason I would not serve turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and so on, in the middle of August, let's say, because that is a special menu for Thanksgiving. It is important to let certain foods be special and to have their place on the calendar. And before you start calling me some sort of bizarre and esoteric nerd, I'll have you know that some rather posh establishments celebrate St. Joseph's Day with this very same soup. Our highly revered, and rightly so, Salumi, for example.

Anyway, the soup itself is wonderful, perfect for the beginning of spring, yet still very substantial. It is also very healthy and low in fat. And in our family, it yields enough for dinner tomorrow night as well. Maybe even the next night if we're lucky. Although, really, that might be an awful lot of soup.

St. Joseph's Day Soup
4 ounces chickpeas
4 ounces cannellini beans
4 ounces dried fava beans
4 ounces lentils (preferably the lovely french green varietal)
4 ounces split peas
1 medium fennel bulb, finely chopped
1 cup chopped canned Italian peeled tomatoes
1 large onion, chopped
¼ cup olive oil
8 ounces borage, escarole, or other leafy green (swiss chard or spinach would be just fine), trimmed, rinsed, and cut into 1-inch pieces
Salt and freshly ground pepper
About 2 cups Italian bread cut into bite-size cubes
¼ cup olive oil

Soak the chickpeas, favas, and cannellinis into a large bowl, cover with water by several inches, and soak overnight; drain. Peel the favas.

In a large soup pot, place the beans you've just soaked and cold water, covering by an inch. Bring to a simmer and then cook for an hour. Add a bit more water, if need be. After an hour, add the lentils (rinsed), split peas (also rinsed), fennel, tomatoes, onion, olive oil, and water to cover as necessary. Simmer for another hour. Add the greens, plenty of salt, and pepper to taste. Cook for another 30 minutes or so, until the soup is thick and the legumes are tender. (The fava beans and split peas will begin to fall apart and act as a thickener.)

Before serving, pre-heat the oven to 400°. Toss the cubed bread in the oil and spread onto a baking sheet. Bake, stirring once, for about 10 minutes, until nicely crisped.

Ladle into bowls and serve with croutons on the top. (Recipe from: Italian Holiday Cooking by Michelle Scicolone. Harper Collins, 2001.)