The Classic Soup That's Been A US Congressional Staple Since The 20th Century

Washington, D.C. is steeped in tradition. Though there are parts of the city that aren't afraid to experiment (D.C. is home to one of the most influential punk scenes in the country), there's usually not much new happening with the United States Capitol. The Senate and congressional office buildings, along with the Capitol itself, are firmly lodged in history. You can feel it as you patter along the Capitol's marble floors, or in the office spaces of the buildings that surround it, which are often filled with staffers, journalists, photographers, and lawmakers. The spirit of John Quincy Adams, for example, is said to be quite active (and verbose) around the Speaker's lobby, even over a century past his death — and it's not just deceased lawmakers that haunt the historic Capitol campus. 

There is one soup that has, after over 100 years, remains a ubiquitous presence on the Hill. It's called Senate Bean Soup, and since 1903 it has, with one exception, been served at the Capitol every single day. This isn't just due to a matter of habit. It's required that Senate Bean Soup be available every single day that the Capitol is open. 

So, this soup must be pretty extraordinary, right? Well, it is extraordinarily simple. Senate Soup is made up of navy beans, a ham hock, water, and braised onions, along with a touch of butter, salt, and pepper. 

How Senate Bean Soup got its start

There are two competing theories as to the origin of Senate Bean Soup. One theory suggests that the dish originated from Idaho's Fred Thomas Dubois, a senator who served from 1901 through 1907. Apparently, Dubois was a part of a committee that regulated Capitol dining facilities. In this position, he created a rule that mandated the soup's presence in the dining facilities every single day that the spaces are open. Another competing theory gives credit to Knute Nelson, a senator out of Minnesota, the U.S. state that produces the most turkeys, who loved the soup. Regardless of the origin, this plain bean and ham soup has remained a Capitol Hill fixture every day for over a century. That is, with one exception.

In 1943, there was one Senate Soup-less day on Capitol Hill. This was due to ongoing food rationing during World War II. Senators and staffers didn't have to wait long for their next bowl, however, as the soup was back on the menu the next day, and has been available since. 

While reviews on the soup are mixed, it has fans among lawmakers and staffers alike. President Gerald Ford, proponent of the cocktail-fueled lunch turned tax break loophole, distributed the recipe as a part of the "Republican Congressional Cookbook". Other lawmakers have worked to adjust the iconic recipe. In the 1950s, for example, a Michigan lawmaker made sure to amend the soup to include Michigan beans rather than Idaho beans.

Is the soup worth the scoop?

How good could this Senate Bean Soup possibly be? With the help of a friend who works on the Hill, I was able to try this soup straight from the source. I can only base my judgment on one solitary bowl of the stuff, but really, there wasn't much to write home about. The soup did taste like ham, had a thick texture, and was quite filling — but it was pretty one-note, and that note was ham. That being said, sometimes it's the simple things that get you through the day.

The soup's blandness isn't hard to believe considering the dish's short ingredient list. The soup is prepared by boiling rinsed (dry, not canned) navy beans in water with a ham hock. Braised onions are added later and topped with salt and pepper. That's all there is to it.

If you want to try the soup out for yourself, you can use one of the two recipes on the Senate website. The University of Idaho also made a second version of the dish that includes potatoes and celery. If you're looking for something more complex, go for that recipe instead. The addition of potatoes, which makes sense given Idaho's status as the undisputed potato capital, beefs up the soup, and the celery adds a bit of much-needed freshness. Of course, your kitchen isn't in the United States Capitol (at least, it probably isn't), so you can have it exactly as you like it.

Recommended