Okra and Tomato Soup

It’s CHILLY in Charleston and the one thing that can warm my soul, is a passed-down family recipe of okra and tomato soup. Through the years I have eaten more bowls than I can count of this made-with-love dish. This beloved recipe comes from my Daddy’s side of the family, The Baker’s. I can think of MANY stories that have centered around this simple meal. There’s something about preparing something for your family, that was made by your own hands and recalling that it has meant something to someone, that has shared your last name. 

I remember fondly hearing a story about the first time my grandparents used a pressure cooker for their okra and tomato soup. This particular time it was my Pa-Pa who was in charge of “looking out” for the butter beans as they began to cook. The pressure cooker was a new - fangled contraption, that my Na-Na had brought into their humble kitchen. I’m not sure what might have captured his attention. Maybe it was my grandmothers good looks. Whatever the cause, there was a definite distraction. All eyes and ears had left the pot!

I can still hear him singing his famous song about the soup. “Okra and tomato soup, the more you eat the more you poot, the more you poot, the better you feel, eat okra and tomato soup for every meal”.

Tick, tick, fizz went the pot, until the pressure was too great and to everyone’s surprise the cooker exploded!  Sure as the world, their ceiling was covered in beans. I am positive that my grandmother caught the blame for bringing the new appliance into the kitchen. Even though, the real blame laid with my Pa-Pa and his neglectful eye. 

Another memory I have of okra and tomato soup involves my Mother. It was Christmas time and we had family over to our home for our annual Bennett Oyster Roast. I don’t eat oysters but the “Southern” in me insists, on hosting a roast every year. The burlap sacks, the smell of fresh seafood and salty marsh...I even enjoy opening them. My husband has always appreciated me standing next to him. I’m convinced I will find a pearl! 

When throwing a party I try to think of every guest and for the non-oyster eaters I sometimes prepare my balsamic glazed pork tenderloin. It’s super easy! This particular night I did just that. I also made some delicious sides and a chicken chilli to go along with it. I’m somewhat particular about what comes into my kitchen for a gathering. I guess it’s the decorator in me but, I like to have control over my kitchen and tables and I like to use my own dishes and platters. I’m thoughtful in how I display things and I don’t like the area to change once it has been set. Sheesh! I don’t think I’ve ever said it out loud. I might need to work on that. Hello, OCD. Ok, back to the okra and tomato soup. 

My mother takes it upon herself (out of the goodness of her heart) to bring her famous okra and tomato soup. Which by the way, is arguably the world best. When she comes in the house with this huge pot of soup my eyes bulge out of my head. To the every day, grateful host it would be thrilling to add such a dish to their repertoire. When my Mother saw my expression, she knew. She knew that her over the top, decorating daughter could not handle the huge pot of soup. Where would it go? I already made a soup. People would need two bowls and a plate. The questions in my head within the first 30 seconds of seeing that huge pot, were endless. She put it on the stove and I didn’t say a word. Not. One. Word. Everyone went through the line and made their plates and now “bowls” and began the family feast. Some time had passed and my cousin goes back into the kitchen for seconds and asks the question “Where is the okra and tomato soup?” In my head I ask...Where is the soup? How could you miss the pot? Isn’t this your second bowl? I get up to help my guest and to my surprise the pot is gone. Gone. My mother- in- law then comes into the kitchen and asks the same question  “Where is the soup?”

Now,  I feel I might should tell you,  that MY MOTHER has always worn her feelings on her sleeves…and not just one sleeve, like both! Like...if you THINK it might hurt her feelings, don’t even think it!!...she can FEEL your thoughts. I’m not kidding. So, without a word or warning and (of course when no one was looking) Sherri Sossamon Hoover took that huge pot of soup and marched out my front door and took it TO HER CAR. Yep, the soup and all of it’s southern crop goodness. By God, NO ONE was getting one more drop of that soup! Ha!

My other cousin who was sitting at the dinner table, could hear the commotion about the “missing okra and tomato soup” from across the house and was SO NERVOUS about the incident that she began sharing ANY information that should could about eggplant. Why eggplant? Who knows! But, there she went telling anything you could ever imagine or want to know or don’t want to know about eggplant and it’s many uses. “You can bake it in Italian dishes, you can spiral it like squash and use it for a healthy alternative to pasta, it can be fried, you can....it went on and on. For like 30 minutes. We were eating and she was talking eggplant! It was actually much like a Bubba Gump rendition on “how to” except instead of shrimp, this happened to be about eggplant. 

To this day, we joke about my mom and the missing pot of soup and also,  my cousins many uses for purple eggplant. If there is every any stickiness or salty tension at a family function one of us will say, “Did I tell you about my new recipe for eggplant?”

My sweet Aunt Cardell was another family member that could cook a serious pot of okra and tomato soup. You could count on this, if you were going to Virginia for a visit she would have a pot of soup waiting for you. She would always serve ham along side it and don’t forget the corn bread for the pot liquor. Also, Aunt Cardell could bake the BEST fruit cake in the world. I think the secret ingredient was her old friend, Jack. 

Years ago, I called her up for the recipe and I could hardly write it down for my silent giggles. She never understood why people would smile when she talked. I sure wish she could have seen herself through others eyes. She was exactly what you might think of when you hear the word, “Southern Belle”. She was raised in Charleston and even though she moved to Virginia and stayed there for her whole married life, she kept the thickest “Southern brogue” you would ever hear. Scarlett didn’t have anything on Aunt Cardell! In fact, I cannot watch Gone with the Wind and not speak about the similarities between Aunt Pitty-Pat Hamilton and my Aunt Cardell. She was at the very least quite dramatic and so very FUN to be around! She took very good care of herself and when I was young there wasn’t anyone more beautiful and more feminine than Aunt Cardell. When she would come to my grandmother’s for a visit she always brought LOTS of luggage, only the finest jewelry that Ulman’s Jewelers would sell, Estee Lauder make up (kept in royal purple, velvet pouches) and a car that could TALK. Y’all, that was thrilling to my simple, country girl heart!

When I grew up I wanted to be just like my Great Aunt Cardell. She was a little bit loud when she wanted to express herself and she did that often! She was just precious! One time when we were visiting her and my Uncle George, or as Aunt Cardell would say it, Uncle “Gouge”...she accidentally backed into my little white Mercedes Benz. She was slightly hard of hearing and drove a big SUV. My Uncle was in the passenger seat and my Aunt Cardell was backing out of the driveway. Even though it happened quickly, we could feel it coming. We all hollered for her to stop but, she didn’t hear a thing. She slammed right into my car! Poor Uncle George got into some serious trouble that day, just by sitting beside her. She yelled, “Oh MY LORD...Gouge, it’s all your fault!! Damn. You should have told me I was going to hit her car!” Uncle George answered back, “Cardi, we all tried to tell you!” On it went for 20 minutes. Sweet Aunt Cardell.

I have been blessed with deep roots and a loving southern family. We southerners love our holidays and traditions. We love good food and robust personalities. We love storytelling and reminiscing on the good ole’ days...and isn’t it funny how we associate food with love? 

If we could slow down, take a minute and stir things up in our minds, we would recall that even those loved ones that have since passed, have instilled a gift, in that their memories will remain. When we use our old passed-down recipes to feed our children we can tell our stories and rest in knowing that we are raising another generation of BIG southern personalities, a generation of Aunt Pitty’s, a generation of tender hearts, a generation of funny songs about soup and our heartfelt appreciation for vegetables and their many uses.