Spring Tonic Soup for a Season of Renewal

There are certain meals that feel like a prayer.

There are certain meals that feel like a prayer.

This soup is one of them.

I made it tonight on the cusp of Passover and Easter—two holy days that mark crossing over, rising up, and making room for what’s next. These holidays don’t often align; their dates shift each year due to differences in the lunar and solar calendars. But this year, Passover concludes as Easter begins—a rare convergence that feels sacred, almost holy. It’s as if the heavens themselves are inviting us into a shared moment of reflection and renewal.

This morning, I wandered through the North Union Farmers Market and was greeted by the first signs of spring: bags of vibrant stinging nettles, bundles of fragrant ramps, and tender red potatoes that had been lovingly wintered over. These treasures aren’t typically found in the aisles of your local supermarket, but at the market, they await, freshly harvested and full of promise. I also discovered a delightful offering—organic , pasture raised ground chicken seasoned with sun-dried tomatoes and basil—that inspired the creation of this soup.

I wanted something simple, full of meaning, something my body would recognize as healthy and sacred.

It started, as many good things do, with leftovers of a roasted chicken. I simmered it slowly into a golden bone broth—rich, clear, full of the kind of nourishment that only comes from time and care.

As the broth simmered, I added a cinnamon stick, a star anise pod, and a spoonful of curry powder. These spices infused the broth with warmth and depth, creating a fragrant foundation for the soup.

Once the broth was strained, I added:

• Red potatoes (small and creamy, full of promise)

• An onion

• Several generous handful of nettles- Be sure not to handle them until they’ve been blanched!

• A large bunch of ramps, their wild garlic scent like the forest in spring

I let it all simmer together until soft, then pureed it with an immersion blender into a velvety green tonic.

Then I stirred in chopped fresh dill, bright and abundant.

Then came the meatballs—made from ground chicken, seasoned with sun-dried tomatoes and basil, and bound together with matzo farfel and egg. I dropped them gently into the soup, where they cooked and soaked up the flavor and emerged almost like dumplings.

Lastly, I added sliced shiitake mushrooms and let it all come together slowly, then topped each bowl with shaved Parmesan and Genovese basil micro-greens.

The result? A bowl that feels like a bridge between holidays, between generations, between winter and the green edge of spring.

It’s nourishing.

It’s reverent.

And it’s deeply good.

Note: I haven’t provided specific measurements here. I invite you to experiment, to have fun, and to make this soup your own. Trust your instincts and let the ingredients guide you.

This soup isn’t just a recipe; it’s a reflection of the season’s generosity and the sacred alignment of traditions. As Passover concludes and Easter begins, this rare convergence invites us to pause, to nourish, and to celebrate the renewal that surrounds us. May this bowl of warmth and flavor inspire you to honor the season in your own way.

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A Gentle Invitation

If this offering resonates with you—if you felt something stir as you read,

know that you’re welcome to stay close.

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But more than anything, it lets me know you’re walking with me.

And that means the world.

With love from my stillroom,

Beth