Take This Soup And Shove It

A few years ago I was about at the end of my social justice occupation quota (though admittedly I miss the work sumpin fierce today). I was working for an organization that provided free legal aid to those who met low income guidelines. I did public benefits work: Food stamps, Medicaid, daycare assistance, etc. My job was to fight the increasingly misanthropic state to retain or gain these benefits for my clients. We'd also developed a very successful program that allowed hospitals that were not being reimbursed for medical expenses because of patients' lack of insurance, to contact us to get Medicaid for these patients. They would then bill Medicaid and get their money. They'd give us a cut once they got paid so we had a revenue stream that allowed us to develop other programs and hire staff. Well, the project took off. It was actually phenomenally successful even earning one hospital seven figures in reimbursement in just a few months. And this earned my employer a good deal of money as well.

Let me remind or inform you that people who work for non-profit/social justicy organizations DON'T GET PAID SQUAT. The nobility of the work generally being enough to sustain the countless hours and tireless effort. I'd been doing this work here and elsewhere for a long time so I was dirt poor, but had spotless Karma and a la-z-boy with my name on it in heaven. So when it came to our attention that our employer was in fact getting a significant cut from all this money coming into hospitals due to our work, we were somewhat indifferent and but jokingly and vainly hoped it might mean we see a little something for our effort... maybe a holiday bonus or pay raise.

As the close of the year dawned, our supervisors pushed and pushed us to churn out more of these money-making cases. Then what we'd joked about and hoped for came: a promise of some sort of significant reward for all of our work This was unprecedented. Since non-profits usually have no money, all they have to give are a lot of paid time off, which is nice but a day off can't pay student loans, rent, beer & smokes.

In the course of this homestretch the promise of a great reward was pushed and pushed at the very time that supervising attorneys began to commit labor violations with Draconian laws. They'd punish lunch lengths, arrival/departure times and the number of breaks we took as well as insisting we work additional hours "pro bono" in order to meet a goal we had no input in establishing and were not allowed to know what it was.

So the great reward became clearer with each proclamation, a promise of a great party with our favorite foods - the finest pizza, the best of Kansas City's BBQ, good beer and wine on & on & on. This wasn't exactly a four-figure bonus, a 20% pay raise but hell, we're not in this for the poontang, so food is fantastic. A good chance to unwind with my work brothers and sisters and reflect on the massive effort that we put forth and the resulting massive success for the organization and the promise for its future.

The day of this feast was to be the week after the Thanksgiving break (through which many of us worked). The day came and we gathered in the law library, excited and starving and hurting for a half-dozen cold ones and some well-earned R&R. So we sat... and sat... and sat. A few stood. A few walked out. And eventually one of the organization's directors came in with a big smile and a pronouncement that he's set us up with something very, very special to reward all of our hard work. This director, with whom I'd struggled with in many ways the last six months namely because I was constantly cleaning up his fucks ups and oversights, was not what one would call socially adept. He bore an emotional IQ that resembled a mix between Saddam Hussein and a sheepdog (just not as affectionate). He was in line to run the place soon so my tongue had dozens of teethmarks.

So upon his grandiose entry and delivering of his lofty promise he pulled from a canvas bag and huge Tupperware container and a loaf of white bread.

"I've made you all my famous turkey soup."

Chorus: "What?"

At this point a paralegal from an outer office arrived. Breathlessly she barged into the library shouting, "I'm here for pizza!!!"

She saw from the look on my face there wasn't going to be any pizza, BBQ, beers etc.

"Tracy, we've having turkey soup," I said.

"TURKEY SOUP?!?!"

Every muscle on her face said "WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?" but being a good Christian lady all she could muster from her anger and disappointment was asking the director if he'd even bothered to buy a turkey special for the soup or did he use his leftovers...

"No, I made it with my Thanksgiving leftovers, of course," he said in a moment of pure, perfect obliviousness.

And like a Rockettes routine, half the room stood up and walked out when the director went to the kitchen to microwave his soup. The other half stayed put and stewed and ate the watery, tasteless soup in deafening silence.

A month later I got a new job with a large international law firm. I was making more money but not helping the people I truly want to help. It's called sacrifice, bitches. At my going-away party I stood and said a few words before a roomful of some of the best people I've ever known. I told them about how it's with hesitation I leave but my heart & soul will always be with this work they continue to do. And at this point I heard, clear as a bell made of white meat, muttered in the back of the room a few words exchanged between the turkey soup director and his immediate superior: "Yeah we'll see how much he'll miss us when they have him reviewing documents 60 hours per week without a break."

So, for all those hard-working, selfless non-profit folks who don't get shit for their efforts, here is a better turkey soup recipe. I leave it up to you to throw it in the face of your supervisor.

Ingredients
2 quarts chicken broth
1 turkey carcass, all meat removed
1 onion, halved, plus 1 onion, minced
1 carrot, halved lengthwise, plus 1 carrot, minced
1 whole stalk celery, plus 1 more stalk, minced
2 bay leaves
3 cups dark turkey meat
2 garlic cloves, smashed
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 carrot, minced
1 stalk celery, minced
3 cups leftover cooked Thanksgiving side vegetables (Brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes, green beans)
1 tablespoon chopped fresh sage leaves

Put chicken broth, turkey, onion halves, carrot halves, 1 celery stalk, and 1 bay leaf in a large stock pot. Bring to a boil, then simmer about 1 1/2 hours. Finely dice the remaining onion, carrot and celery and reserve.

Dice the turkey meat. Make sure meat pieces are no larger than the size of a soup spoon. (If preparing soup the next day, be sure to store leftover turkey meat in an airtight container before placing it in the refrigerator, top with 1 or 2 ladles full of broth to keep meat moist.)
Before straining broth, remove large bones and carcass with tongs. Strain the broth through a sieve, covered with wet cheese cloth. Discard the solids. Transfer broth to a bowl set in a bath of ice water, which will cool the broth quickly and help keep it fresher longer. This can be done the night before and stored in the refrigerator until the next day.

In a large soup pot, heat garlic cloves in the olive oil. Allow to brown slightly and add minced carrots, celery, and onion. Sweat over medium-low heat until softened, about 7 or 8 minutes.
Dice the leftover vegetables (here Brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes, and green beans). Add the chopped sage to the soup pot along with the turkey broth and the remaining bay leaf. Bring to a simmer. When simmering, add Brussels sprouts, green beans and diced turkey meat to the soup. Bring it back up to a simmer. Finally, add the sweet potatoes to the center, and gently push them down. Turn the heat off and cover.

Allow to sit and steam for 5 to 7 minutes.

Let simmer for 5 more minutes and serve.