If you have ever found yourself standing in a TSA line that stretches into the next time zone because Congress can’t agree on anything or if you’ve simply stared at the nightly news and wondered, “Why, oh why, can’t the folks in DC just get along?”—stay tuned. I have discovered the root of the rot, and I have a solution.
I know, I know. During Lent, we are supposed to take small steps, focusing on quiet remedies for injustice. But when one stumbles upon a revelation of this magnitude, holding it back feels like a sin of omission.
It all started on a cold night in Charlotte. The kind of night that demands a bowl of piping hot bean soup and a slab of melt-in-your-mouth cornbread. Suzy, in her infinite wisdom, indulged my fantasy. “Find a recipe,” she said, “and we’ll make it together.”
I embarked on a digital and literary pilgrimage, scouring AI, Google, and the two hundred cookbooks lining Suzy’s shelves. I recalled a particularly excellent bowl of bean soup I’d had at the U.S. Senate years ago, so I started my research there. That is when I uncovered the culinary conspiracy at the heart of our Republic.
“The House and the Senate do not eat from the same pot.”
I’m not speaking metaphorically. For over a hundred years, these two bodies have been operating on entirely different legume-based philosophies. The Senate recipe calls for Navy beans, butter, and onions. The House version—the “Congressional” soup—insists on Michigan beans (whatever those are) and strictly forbids both onions and butter.
Think about the implications! For over a century, we have expected these people to agree on national security, infrastructure, and the naming of football stadiums, yet they cannot even agree on a mirepoix. We have a bicameral legislature that can’t even achieve a bicameral broth. No wonder there is dysfunction; one side is fueled by butter and the other by a strange, onion-less austerity.
How can we expect a unified budget when we don’t even have a unified bean?
The solution to our national impasse is not another blue-ribbon commission or a televised hearing. We don’t need an investigation; we need a ladle. We need to hire one non-partisan cook to prepare a single, unified pot of soup to be served to both Houses, all parties, and their guests. We should even send a thermos over to the White House.
If they can’t agree on a cook, then let’s have a National Bean Soup Contest. Let the American people decide the flavor profile of our democracy. If there is any unifying thread left in this tattered political fabric of ours, surely we can all get behind a bowl of soup.
Let us fix the recipe, and perhaps—just perhaps—we can fix the country. One spoonful at a time.
Webb, there can be no bean soup without butter and onions. But the different tastes have to compromise. Perhaps the House would accept shallots and maybe be happy with a little oil. And as for beans, maybe the Senate will accept Michigan beans, i.e., beans grown in Michigan, which has good soil for beans. Maybe even Navy beans can be grown in Michigan. But really, each House should have the bean it wants in bean soup. Which leaves the Senate still not reaching a compromise. Maybe shallots and oil would be good for them, too. Get rid of onions and butter completely. But the best thing would be if both Houses got together maybe once a week and had their soup in one big room.
Wouldn’t that be a start, Anne. Of course, my piece was tongue-in-cheek but it has struck a chord somewhat. I am confident a cook or two could come up with something that fills all of us up. I should have checked with you about Michigan beans. Love. webb.