Name: Tuscan White Bean Soup
Prep time: 15 min
Cook time: 35 min
Total time: 50 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Italian
Ingredients: 2 tablespoons olive oil; 1 medium yellow onion, diced; 2 cloves garlic, minced; 2 medium carrots, diced; 2 celery stalks, diced; 3 cups vegetable broth; 2 cans (15 oz each) cannellini beans, drained and rinsed; 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes; 1 teaspoon dried thyme; 1 teaspoon dried rosemary; 1/2 teaspoon salt; 1/4 teaspoon black pepper; 2 cups chopped kale; 1 tablespoon lemon juice

Let’s Talk About This Tuscan White Bean Soup — and That One Time I Burned the Garlic

Okay, let me get this out of the way: I adore this Tuscan White Bean Soup. It’s my trusty standby on chilly evenings, especially when I want something hearty but can’t stand the thought of complicated prep. Actually, there was that one Tuesday I got a bit overzealous with the garlic and, um, nearly smoked out my kitchen (if you’re not fanning smoke alarms every few months, are you even really cooking at home?). This soup always takes me back to a rambling trip through Florence, eating food so simple and good you’d swear the chefs were magicians, but it’s honestly easier to make than you probably think.

Why I Keep Making This (and Why You Might, Too)

I make this when it’s rainy or I’ve forgotten to plan anything fancy — ya know, those “let’s rummage the pantry and see what happens” days. My family goes nuts for it because it tastes rich but doesn’t weigh you down (I mean, my teenager actually paused his phone to ask for seconds — if that’s not a win, what is?). Plus, it’s one of those rare soups that gets, like, more delicious after sitting overnight. Oh, and if I’m out of celery, nobody in my house notices — so there’s my little confession.

What You Need (And What You Can Actually Get Away With)

2 cans (400g each) cannellini beans — or great northern. Sometimes I use chickpeas in a pinch, but it’s a whole different party then
2 tablespoons olive oil — any good olive oil will do, or honestly, I’ve even used butter once (heresy! but tasty)
1 medium onion, chopped — red, yellow, whatever’s rolling around
2 large carrots, diced — my grandmother swore by only organic ones, but meh, use what you’ve got
2 stalks celery, diced — or skip, no one cares
3 cloves garlic, minced (but not burnt, please and thanks)
4 cups vegetable broth — chicken broth is good too if you’re into that
1 bay leaf (I forget this half the time, soup is still delish)
1 tsp dried thyme or Italian seasoning — sometimes I get wild and double it
Salt and black pepper to taste — just give it a few cracks; you’ll know when it’s right
A handful of chopped kale or spinach (I literally toss in whatever green stuff I have)
Parmesan rind (optional, but so good if you have it lurking in the freezer)
Bread, to serve — crusty, day-old, or just plain toast; whatever keeps you happy

How I Tend to Make It (With Some Gentle Deviations)

Heat up the olive oil in a big ol’ pot over medium. Toss in the onions, carrots, and celery. Give it a stir — then just kind of let it do its thing for 7 minutes, or until stuff looks soft and smells like “soup is happening.” Sometimes I forget the celery here and nobody notices.
Add the garlic (take it from me, don’t wander off here or you’ll be scraping burnt bits forever) and cook just for 1 minute. This is when I usually sneak a taste, yep.
Pour in the broth, dump in the rinsed beans, add the bay leaf, herbs, salt, and pepper. Chuck in the parmesan rind if you’ve got it (not the end of the world if you don’t).
Bring it all to a simmer. Cover, lower the heat, and pop on a podcast or something for about 20 minutes. Don’t worry if it looks sorta beige and uninspiring now. Magic coming soon.
Fish out the bay leaf and parmesan rind if you used it (which, full disclosure, I almost always forget to do until I’m halfway through my bowl).
Now decide: do you want it chunky or smooth? Sometimes, I mash a cup of beans with a fork before adding for extra creaminess. Other times, I blend half the soup with an immersion blender right in the pot. Or just leave it as is. No wrong turns here!
Stir in the greens, letting them wilt for 2-3 minutes. Taste and adjust salt and pep — maybe add a little lemon if it’s feeling flat, or don’t. Make it your own.
Ladle into bowls, pile with more parmesan if you please, and get the bread at the ready to dunk.

Notes — Stuff I’ve Actually Learned (Not All the Perfect Kind)

I once added too much thyme and it tasted like a Christmas tree, so, uh, go easy at first.
The soup seems thicker the next day — if that’s your thing, leave it overnight. If not, splash in more broth.
Sometimes I forgot to rinse the beans and got extra bean-juice flavor. Honestly not terrible, just, you know, saltier.
If you don’t have a fancy immersion blender, I’ve poured half in a regular blender, but honestly, use a potato masher if you don’t wanna fuss with gadgets.

Tried-and-True (and Experimental) Variations

Added chili flakes for some heat — great if you like a little fire.
Chopped up a leftover sausage and tossed it in — made it a bit much, really. Stick to beans, in my opinion.
Swapped kale for baby spinach — barely noticed the difference, just wilts faster.
A squeeze of lemon at the end, like they do here on Serious Eats, actually woke the flavors up one night.

Do You Need Fancy Gadgets? Here’s What I Use

Large-ish pot — doesn’t have to be Dutch, but if you have one, it’s nice
Wooden spoon — though honestly, I’ve used a spatula in a pinch, but it’s annoying
Immersion blender or potato masher (or, for the love of all that’s holy, just leave it chunky and save yourself the cleanup)

How Long Does This Keep? (Spoiler: Not Long in My House!)

This soup will sit pretty in the fridge for about 3 days—technically. In reality, it vanishes within 24 hours most weeks, especially with hungry kids around. Just keep it in a tight-lidded tub, and thin out with extra broth when reheating. I’ve never frozen it, but I imagine it’d work (let me know if you try—seriously, drop a comment!).

How We Love to Eat It (And Occasionally Go Overboard)

I’m firmly pro-parmesan at the table, but my youngest thinks it’s more fun with garlic bread. Sometimes we even make grilled cheese to dunk instead of regular toast — not very Italian, but nobody complains. Once, I even topped it with a drizzle of chili oil (got the idea from this Bon Appétit pasta-and-beans recipe — worth a look!).

Things I Learned the Hard Way (A.K.A. Pro Tips, Sort Of)

I once rushed sauteeing the onions and got weirdly sweet soup. Let those veggies take their time — trust me, it matters.
Don’t skip rinsing canned beans. I did the math and un-rinsed beans actually taste more metallic (or maybe it’s just me?).
If you use spinach, toss it in last minute. If you cook it too long, it gets that icky army green vibe. Not pretty.

FAQ — Real Questions, Real Answers

Can I use dried beans instead of canned? Sure thing. Just soak ’em overnight and simmer them until soft. Thing is, it takes ages, so I usually skip it; but hey, you do you!
What if I don’t have kale or spinach? Use whatever greens you like. I’ve tossed in chard, arugula, even a handful of parsley once. It’s all good.
Will kids eat this? Mine inhale it. I mean, sometimes they fish out the carrots, but what can you do?
Is it better with chicken broth or veggie? Honestly, they’re both tasty. I lean veggie if I want to keep it meatless, but chicken broth adds a certain depth. Try both sometime!
Can I make it in a slow cooker? Technically, yes. But, uh, it gets kinda mushy — I prefer stovetop. If you’re dead-set on a slow cooker, check out the tips at Skinnytaste’s slow cooker guide. They know their stuff.
Can I double the recipe? Oh, absolutely! Just use the biggest pot you’ve got. On second thought, make sure your stove can handle it — I underestimated mine once and got a lovely overflow all over the burner. Good times.

Anyhow, that’s my two cents (or maybe a buck fifty) on Tuscan White Bean Soup. Let me know what wild-and-woolly substitutions you try, because honestly, that’s half the fun. Happy cooking!

Tuscan White Bean Soup