
Chef Dean
Avgolemono
A bowl of silken, lemony comfort from the Greek kitchen, where golden chicken broth meets a velvety cloud of egg and citrus. This is soup that heals what ails you, one spoonful at a time.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
A robust one-pot meal from the Tuscan hills: bronzed sausage, creamy cannellini beans, and tender greens swimming in a garlic-perfumed broth that tastes like it simmered all day but comes together in under an hour.
This soup represents everything I love about Italian peasant cooking. It wastes nothing. It forgives much. It rewards patience with flavors far greater than its humble ingredients suggest. Tuscan farmers have been making variations of this dish for centuries, stretching whatever meat they had with beans and whatever greens grew in the garden.
The secret lives in building layers. You'll brown the sausage first, rendering its fat and creating fond on the bottom of your pot. That fond becomes the foundation. The aromatics soften in the sausage drippings. The beans contribute their starchy cooking liquid. By the time you've finished, you'll have a broth with body and depth that no canned stock could match.
I've taught this soup to nervous cooks who swore they couldn't make anything from scratch. Every one of them left with confidence. The technique is forgiving. The ingredients are accessible. And the result is a pot of soup that makes people ask for the recipe before they've finished their bowl.
Quantity
1 1/2 pounds
casings removed
Quantity
2 tablespoons, plus more for finishing
Quantity
1 large
diced
Quantity
3
diced
Quantity
2 medium
peeled and diced
Quantity
8 cloves
minced
Quantity
1/4 teaspoon
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1 cup
Quantity
8 cups
preferably homemade
Quantity
2 cans (15 ounces each)
drained and rinsed
Quantity
about 3 inches
Quantity
2 sprigs
Quantity
4 sprigs
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 bunch (about 8 ounces)
stems removed and leaves torn
Quantity
1 teaspoon, plus more to taste
Quantity
to taste
freshly cracked
Quantity
for serving
freshly grated
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| sweet Italian sausagecasings removed | 1 1/2 pounds |
| extra-virgin olive oil | 2 tablespoons, plus more for finishing |
| yellow oniondiced | 1 large |
| celery stalksdiced | 3 |
| carrotspeeled and diced | 2 medium |
| garlicminced | 8 cloves |
| red pepper flakes | 1/4 teaspoon |
| tomato paste | 2 tablespoons |
| dry white wine | 1 cup |
| chicken stockpreferably homemade | 8 cups |
| cannellini beansdrained and rinsed | 2 cans (15 ounces each) |
| Parmesan rind (optional) | about 3 inches |
| fresh rosemary | 2 sprigs |
| fresh thyme | 4 sprigs |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| lacinato kalestems removed and leaves torn | 1 bunch (about 8 ounces) |
| kosher salt | 1 teaspoon, plus more to taste |
| black pepperfreshly cracked | to taste |
| Parmigiano-Reggianofreshly grated | for serving |
Heat a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Add the sausage, breaking it into rough one-inch pieces with a wooden spoon. Resist the urge to move it constantly. Let the meat sit against the hot surface until it develops a deep golden-brown crust, about three to four minutes per side. The sausage should sizzle aggressively. If it's not sizzling, your pot isn't hot enough.
When the sausage is bronzed on all sides but not fully cooked through, transfer it to a plate using a slotted spoon. Leave every drop of rendered fat in the pot. This fat carries the fennel and spice flavors from the sausage. It's liquid gold for building your soup base.
Reduce heat to medium. Add the olive oil to the sausage drippings. Add the onion, celery, and carrots. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables soften and the onion turns translucent, eight to ten minutes. You'll notice the fond on the bottom of the pot beginning to loosen. The kitchen will smell like an Italian grandmother's house.
Push the vegetables to the edges of the pot, creating a clearing in the center. Add the garlic and red pepper flakes to the clearing. Let them sizzle in the hot fat for thirty seconds until fragrant. The garlic should smell sweet, not acrid. Stir everything together, then add the tomato paste. Cook for two minutes, stirring constantly, until the paste darkens slightly and smells almost caramelized.
Pour in the white wine. It will hiss and steam dramatically. Use your wooden spoon to scrape up every bit of fond from the bottom of the pot. Let the wine bubble vigorously until reduced by half, about three minutes. The raw alcohol smell should disappear, leaving behind fruity acidity.
Pour in the chicken stock. Add the cannellini beans, Parmesan rind if using, rosemary sprigs, thyme sprigs, and bay leaves. Nestle the reserved sausage back into the pot. Bring everything to a gentle simmer over medium heat. You want lazy bubbles, not a rolling boil.
Let the soup simmer uncovered for twenty-five to thirty minutes. The beans will begin to break down slightly, lending their starch to the broth. The Parmesan rind will soften and melt into the liquid, contributing umami depth you can't achieve any other way. Taste the broth. It should taste like something you'd want to drink from a mug.
Remove and discard the rosemary stems, thyme stems, bay leaves, and what remains of the Parmesan rind. Add the torn kale leaves in handfuls, stirring each batch until it wilts before adding more. The kale will seem like far too much at first. It will cook down to a quarter of its volume within five minutes.
Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper. The soup should taste robust and well-seasoned but not salty. Ladle into warmed bowls. Drizzle each portion with your best olive oil. Shower generously with grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. Serve with crusty bread for soaking up the last drops.
1 serving (about 450g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Dean
A bowl of silken, lemony comfort from the Greek kitchen, where golden chicken broth meets a velvety cloud of egg and citrus. This is soup that heals what ails you, one spoonful at a time.

Chef Dean
A bowlful of pure American comfort: velvety soup loaded with tender broccoli and an almost indecent amount of sharp cheddar, the kind of honest cooking that warms you from the inside out.

Chef Dean
A smoky, brick-red broth alive with charred tomatoes and toasted chiles, ladled over shredded chicken and crowned with a mountain of crispy tortilla strips, cool avocado, sharp cheese, and a generous squeeze of lime.

Chef Dean
A robust, deeply seasoned pot of ground beef, beans, and tomatoes simmered until the spices bloom, the meat surrenders, and the whole becomes something far greater than its humble parts.