Hello, Sweater Weather: Fabulous Fall Turkey & Veggie Soup for Changing Seasons

Maybe it didn’t fail. Maybe it was just a season.

There’s always that one night in September when you walk outside and think:

Ohhhh. There it is. Fall. 🍂

Maybe you’re still wearing sandals. There are still tomatoes and zucchini piled on the kitchen counter, sweet corn at the farm stands and basil growing outside like it has absolutely no intention of calling it quits.

But the sun goes down a little earlier. The breeze feels different. You reach for a sweater.

And suddenly…soup sounds really good.

Not the heavy, stick-to-your-ribs January kind of soup. We’re definitely not there yet.

I’m talking about something colorful, fresh and cozy that still tastes a little like summer but gives you just enough of that hello, sweater weather feeling.

That’s exactly where my Fabulous Fall Turkey & Veggie Soup comes in.

It’s packed with ground turkey, cannellini beans, tomatoes, zucchini, sweet corn, green beans, carrots, celery, onions and garlic, all simmered together in chicken stock with savory seasonings.

Then I pile on fresh basil and grated Parmesan at the end, because cheese makes almost everything better.

Obviously.

It’s hearty but not heavy. Healthy without tasting like you’re trying very hard to be healthy. And when you add some crispy Parmesan-garlic toast and a glass of wine?

Now we’re talking.


That In-Between September Feeling

Labor Day weekend has always felt like summer’s unofficial closing party.

And I’m never completely ready for it.

I love fall—especially here in Upstate New York—but there’s something bittersweet about packing away another summer.

You want just one more long evening outside.

One more dinner on the patio.

One more lake or beach day.

One more ridiculously juicy peach over the kitchen sink.

But September has its own kind of magic.

Around the Finger Lakes, everything slowly starts changing. The green hills begin picking up little flashes of yellow, gold and orange. Vineyards stretch along the lakes.

Farm stands somehow have tomatoes, corn, apples and squash all sitting together.

And then there are those September drives when the windows are down, the music is up and you start seeing the first colorful leaves along the road.

It’s not full-on fall yet.

It’s the preview.

And I kind of love that.


Summer Meets Fall—in a Soup Pot

This soup tastes exactly like that moment to me.

There’s plenty of summer still hanging around in the zucchini, tomatoes, corn, green beans and fresh basil.

Then the ground turkey, white cannellini beans, chicken stock, garlic and Parmesan start nudging everything toward fall.

It’s basically September in a bowl.

And it’s also one of those forgiving recipes you can play around with depending on what you’ve got.

Fresh corn? Fantastic.

Half a zucchini sitting in the refrigerator? Throw it in.

Extra green beans from the farmers market? Yep.

A handful of spinach that needs to be used before it goes rogue in the produce drawer? In it goes.

That’s one of my favorite things about soup. It doesn’t need to be precious.

Sometimes the best dinners happen because you looked in the refrigerator and thought, Okay guys, what are we doing with all of you?


Maybe We’re All a Little Like September

The funny thing is, while I was thinking about changing seasons and making this soup, I started thinking about how much our lives work the same way.

We have seasons.

Some are exciting.

Some are comfortable.

Some are messy.

Some seem to end before we’re ready.

And some seasons change whether we want them to or not.

I’ve always loved this line from Alan Watts:

“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.”

That’s much easier to put on an inspirational quote card than it is to actually do, of course.

Because when life changes unexpectedly, most of us don’t immediately think:

Wonderful! What an exciting opportunity for personal growth! 😂

We think:

WAIT. WHAT IS HAPPENING?

We want to hold onto what we know.

The job.

The place.

The relationship.

The routine.

The plan.

The version of ourselves we’ve gotten comfortable being.

And sometimes we need to hold on for a little while.

But eventually, we also have to make room for what’s next.


A Personal Note About Changing Seasons

I’ve been thinking about seasons a lot lately—not just the ones outside my window.

And as some of you may know I’ve been through some enormous changes over the past year and a half—loss, family, career, leaving Texas and coming back to Upstate New York… and it’s all really been a lot.

I lost my beloved Nemo, my best friend, my therapist, my ride or die in late 2024 due to old age and illness and I was absolutely crushed.

Then, a few weeks later in early 2025 I lost my Dad.

Talk about crushed? Absolutely devastated.

He was my hero, my role model, my voice of reason and inspiration.

And I still can’t believe he’s really gone….but I know he’s watching over us from heaven above and I can’t wait to see him again someday.

And then for another unexpected pivot, I lost my full time studio job in Texas due to layoffs and company restructuring from our clients and had to take a step back and really think about where I was at, what I really wanted in my career and where I was going next.

Even though these were some of the hardest moments of my life to bear, those experiences have actually taught me a few things:

life is precious,

time matters,

people matter,

creativity matters,

and sometimes losing the certainty of one path makes you reconsider where you really want to go.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m still figuring things out. And if you are too, that’s totally fine.

You don’t have to have every answer or your next move completely planned out today.

And perhaps now, throughout the losses and major changes, I have more clarity about what I really value most —and more faith that the next chapter might contain things I can’t see yet.

And it’s all going to be OK.


Maybe It Was Just a Season

Here’s an idea I’ve been carrying around lately:

Maybe it didn’t fail.

Maybe it was just a season.

I really love that.

We don’t look at August becoming September and say, Well, summer really blew it this year.

Summer did exactly what summer was supposed to do.

It arrived.

It gave us something.

And then it moved on.

Maybe we can give ourselves the same grace.

A career chapter can end without everything you accomplished there becoming meaningless.

A relationship can change without every moment you shared becoming unimportant.

You can leave a place you loved and still carry it with you.

You can miss an old version of your life without needing to recreate it.

You can even miss an old version of yourself while being curious about the person you’re becoming.

Summer doesn’t become less beautiful because it ends. And fall isn’t beautiful because summer failed.

There’s room to appreciate both.


Don’t Miss the Life That’s Happening Now

Change also has a funny way of sharpening your focus.

It makes you notice things.

Dinner with someone you love.

A friend calling at exactly the right time.

A gorgeous sunset when you weren’t looking for one.

A random roadtrip off the beaten path to a newly discovered place.

Your favorite song coming on while you’re driving.

A glass of wine while you’re cooking dinner.

Laughing until your stomach hurts.

The first cool night when you open the windows and sleep under an actual blanket again.

Soup bubbling on the stove while you’re still barefoot in the kitchen.

Those moments can seem incredibly ordinary.

But that’s the thing.

That’s your life.

Not only the big vacation or dream job or perfect house or huge opportunity you’re waiting for.

This Tuesday night.

This dinner.

This conversation.

This drive around the lake.

This ridiculous amount of Parmesan you’re grating over your soup.

All of it.

And I think I’m becoming much more interested in noticing those things.

So, speaking of Parmesan…

Let’s make soup.


Fabulous Fall Turkey & Veggie Soup

This is one of my favorite kinds of early-fall dinners: warm and comforting without being heavy.

Ground turkey and cannellini beans make it filling, while tomatoes, zucchini, corn, carrots, celery and green beans keep it colorful and fresh.

The basil and Parmesan at the end give the soup a little Italian personality, and the whole thing comes together easily in one big soup pot.

Even better? It tastes fantastic the next day.

Make a big batch and consider tomorrow’s lunch handled.

Fabulous Fall Turkey and Veggie Soup

Ingredients

2 tablespoons olive oil, divided, plus more for serving

1 pound ground turkey

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

½ teaspoon Tony Chachere’s Original Creole Seasoning

½ teaspoon Nature’s Seasons Seasoning Blend

2–3 large garlic cloves, minced

1 large onion, finely diced, or 1 tablespoon dried minced onion

2 stalks celery, sliced into ¼-inch pieces

8 ounces carrots, about 3–4, cut into bite-size pieces

1 medium zucchini, cut into quartered half-moons

1 can sweet corn, drained, or kernels from 1 fresh ear of corn

1 can green beans, drained, or 1 cup fresh green beans, cut into smaller pieces

1 can white cannellini beans, drained and rinsed

1 can diced tomatoes

1 can stewed tomatoes

1 bay leaf

6 cups chicken stock, plus more as needed

Fresh basil, for serving

Freshly grated Parmesan cheese, for serving

Instructions

Heat a large Dutch oven or soup pot over medium heat. Add the olive oil and ground turkey and cook, breaking the meat into small crumbles, until cooked through and lightly browned. Drain extra fat and set aside.

Add the onion, celery, carrots and zucchini. Season lightly with salt and pepper, Tony Chachere’s and Nature’s Seasons. Cook for about 8-10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables begin to soften.

Add the garlic and cook for another 1–2 minutes, until fragrant.

Stir in the sweet corn, green beans, cannellini beans, diced tomatoes and stewed tomatoes.

Pour in the chicken stock and add the bay leaf. Bring everything to a gentle boil, then reduce the heat and simmer over low heat for 25–30 minutes.

Add additional stock if you’d like the soup a little brothier. Remove the bay leaf and taste for seasoning.

Ladle into bowls and top with plenty of fresh basil, grated Parmesan and a little drizzle of good olive oil.

And yes, I’m going to say plenty of Parmesan again.


What Should I Drink With It? 🍷

Because we’re easing into fall—not hibernating—I like a wine that’s fresh and bright rather than big and heavy.

Finger Lakes Dry Riesling

My first pick, especially if we’re keeping things local. A dry Finger Lakes Riesling has bright acidity that works beautifully with the tomatoes and vegetables while keeping the whole meal feeling fresh.

Sauvignon Blanc

Crisp, citrusy and often a little herbaceous, Sauvignon Blanc loves all that basil, zucchini and green vegetable goodness.

Vermentino

Want to lean into the Italian side of the soup? Try a chilled Vermentino. It’s bright and refreshing and feels right at home alongside basil, tomatoes, olive oil and Parmesan.

Barbera or Chianti

Red wine people, I haven’t forgotten you.

Try a bright Barbera or a lighter Chianti/Sangiovese. Their acidity makes them much friendlier with tomatoes than a big, heavily oaked red.

And don’t be afraid to give lighter reds a slight chill.

Trust me.


Parmesan-Garlic Toast

Because dipping crispy garlic bread into tomatoey soup broth is one of life’s tiny pleasures.

Ingredients

½ loaf rustic Italian or sourdough bread

3 tablespoons softened unsalted butter

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil

2 garlic cloves, finely grated

2 tablespoons finely grated Parmesan

1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley

Pinch of kosher or flaky salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 400°F.

Slice the bread into thick pieces and arrange on a baking sheet.

Mix together the butter, olive oil, garlic, Parmesan, parsley, salt and pepper. Spread generously over the bread.

Bake for about 8–10 minutes, until golden and crisp around the edges.

If you want the top extra crispy—and obviously we do—pop it under the broiler for about 30–60 seconds.

Just don’t walk away.

Garlic toast has a remarkable ability to go from perfect to small kitchen fire while you’re answering a text.


Simple Early-Fall Green Salad

You don’t need anything complicated here.

Toss together:

Baby arugula or mixed greens

Thinly sliced crisp apple or pear

Toasted walnuts or pecans

Shaved Parmesan or Ricotta Salata cheese

For the dressing, whisk together extra-virgin olive oil, fresh lemon juice, Dijon mustard, a little honey or maple syrup, sea salt and freshly ground pepper.

That’s it.

The apples or pears give you that first little taste of fall while the greens keep dinner light and fresh.


Here’s to the Next Season

Maybe that’s what I want to remember this September.

We don’t have to rush into the next season.

And we don’t have to pretend we aren’t a little sad when the last one ends.

We can still eat tomatoes while buying apples.

We can wear sandals with a sweater.

We can miss what was and still be excited about what’s coming.

We can be grateful for an old chapter without trying to live there forever.

And we definitely don’t have to know exactly what’s next.

Sometimes we just need to keep moving, pay attention and trust that there’s more life ahead of us.

So here’s to the last sweet days of summer.

Here’s to those first cool September nights.

Here’s to soup pots and sweaters and colorful drives around the Finger Lakes.

Here’s to starting over when we need to.

And here’s to remembering that maybe we’re not lost at all.

Maybe we’re simply between seasons. 🍂


Tune In: A New Into Focus episode on The Artful Gourmet Podcast – 🎧

I’m taking this conversation a little deeper in my newest podcast episode of Into Focus:

Between Seasons: Letting Go, Beginning Again & Embracing Change

I talk about life’s unexpected transitions, letting go of old chapters, changing priorities, finding beauty in ordinary moments and learning to stay open to whatever might be waiting around the corner.

Listen on Spotify and The Artful Gourmet Substack, or wherever you get your podcasts. Episode drops in a few hours just in time for Labor Day!

And come tell me what season of life you’re in right now.

And if you make my Fabulous Fall Turkey & Veggie Soup, please comment below and let me know how it came out or tag me with a photo of the soup on social @artfulgourmet.


#TheArtfulGourmet #FallRecipes #TurkeySoup #VegetableSoup #HealthyRecipes #SoupSeason #SweaterWeather #SeasonalCooking #FallCooking #ComfortFood #HealthyComfortFood #FingerLakes #UpstateNY #SeptemberRecipes #WinePairing #IntoFocus

Better to Fail Gloriously ✨

What Anthony Bourdain Taught Me About Taking Chances, Starting Over, and Trusting the Journey

“Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is simply try. — Anthony Bourdain

Chef Anthony Bourdain

There’s something about June that feels hopeful.

Maybe it’s the longer days, the farmers markets bursting with color, or the smell of freshly cut grass drifting through an open window.

Or maybe it’s because summer always feels like a fresh start.

A new season.

A chance to begin again.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about Anthony Bourdain and one of my favorite quotes from him:

“It’s better to try and fail gloriously than to not try at all.”

Every time I hear those words, they stop me in my tracks.

Because if I’m being honest, there have been plenty of times in my life when I almost didn’t try.

Times when I questioned myself.

Times when I wondered if I was too old, too late, too inexperienced, or simply not good enough.

Moving to New York City.

Starting The Artful Gourmet.

Launching a podcast.

Creating YouTube videos.

Applying for dream jobs.

Pitching magazines.

Putting myself out there creatively.

None of it came with a guarantee.

And that’s exactly why it mattered.


Anthony Bourdain Wasn’t an Overnight Success

One of the things I admire most about Bourdain is that his success story wasn’t neat and tidy.

For years he worked in restaurant kitchens, often struggling, often wondering what was next.

Before he became a bestselling author, television host, and one of the most respected storytellers in the world, he was simply a chef trying to make a living.

Then, at age 44, everything changed.

His book Kitchen Confidential became a phenomenon and launched a second act that nobody could have predicted.

Imagine if he had talked himself out of writing it.

Imagine if he thought it was too late.

Imagine if he never took the chance.

The world would have missed out on one of its greatest voices.

And that’s a lesson worth remembering.

Just because something hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it never will.


Curiosity Is Greater Than Fear

One of Bourdain’s most famous quotes was:

“Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts. It even breaks your heart. But that’s okay.”

I think that quote applies to life just as much as travel.

Life isn’t always comfortable.

Building a business isn’t comfortable.

Changing careers isn’t comfortable.

Starting over certainly isn’t comfortable.

But growth rarely happens inside our comfort zone.

The most meaningful things in my life have happened because I was willing to get uncomfortable.

Not because I knew exactly what would happen.

But because I was curious enough to find out.

Bourdain approached the world with curiosity.

He sat down with strangers.

He tried unfamiliar foods.

He visited places most tourists would never go.

He listened.

He learned.

He stayed open.

What if we approached our own lives the same way?

What if instead of focusing on what could go wrong, we focused on what we might discover?

Progress Isn’t Always Visible

One of the hardest things about pursuing a dream is that progress often happens quietly.

You put in the work.

You show up.

You keep creating.

And sometimes it feels like nothing is happening.

I’ve felt that way more times than I can count.

But then I look back and realize something important:

The growth was happening all along.

The connections.

The skills.

The experience.

The confidence.

The opportunities.

They were all building beneath the surface.

Much like a garden in spring.

The seeds don’t bloom overnight.

But they’re growing.

Even when you can’t see it.

That’s why I think summer is such a beautiful reminder to keep going.

Everything around us is proof that growth takes time.

Spring Vegetable Soup

A Bowl of Soup and a Fresh Start

Whenever the seasons change, I find myself drawn back to simple recipes.

Food has always been my way of slowing down and reconnecting with myself.

This Spring Minestrone Soup is exactly that.

Fresh peas.

Tender zucchini.

Green beans.

Herbs from the garden.

Bright lemon.

A little Parmesan.

Simple ingredients that come together to create something nourishing and comforting.

And honestly?

It feels like a metaphor for life.

A handful of small things can become something beautiful when given enough time.

The same is true for dreams.

Spring Vegetable Soup

Serving Size:
6
Time:
45 mins
Difficulty:
intermediate
  • 2 small carrots, diced
  • 2 celery stalks, diced
  • 1 yellow onion, chopped
  • 2 small zucchini, diced
  • 1 small butternut squash, diced
  • 1 bunch escarole, chopped
  • ½ cup peas, frozen
  • 1 tablespoon basil leaves, chopped
  • 1 tablespoon parsley, chopped ¼ cup Parmigiano Reggiano, grated
  • 6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus extra for bread and for drizzling on soup
  • 4 quarts chicken stock
  • 1 small ciabatta bread
  • Sea salt to taste
  • Pepper to taste

Directions

  1. Sauté carrots, celery and onions in a large stock pot over medium heat, for approximately 5 minutes, making sure that you stir the vegetables while they cook
  2. Add chicken stock to the pan. Increase the heat to high, cover the pan, bring to a boil and then reduce the heat to medium-low. Cook for 10-15 minutes.
  3. Slice bread into 1” thick slices. Brush slices with the additional olive oil on both sides and place in a sauté pan over low heat. Turn bread slices once and cook until they are golden brown. Place bread in a tray and lightly sprinkle with sea salt. Set aside.
  4. Add butternut squash to the stockpot and cook for 3 minutes.
  5. Add zucchini and peas to the stockpot and cook for 3 more minutes.
  6. Add escarole, basil, parsley, salt and pepper and cook for 4 additional minutes.
  7. Remove two ladles of soup from the stockpot and puree in a blender, then return the pureed soup to the pot (the puree will thicken the soup). Stir and cook for 1 minute, then turn off the heat.
  8. Add some grated cheese into the soup and stir. Ladle soup in individual bowls, drizzle oil and sprinkle additional cheese.

The same is true for healing.

The same is true for starting over.

Serve it on a warm June evening and make a toast to whatever new chapter you’re stepping into.

So Here’s Your Reminder

If you’ve been waiting for a sign to start something…

This is it.

Apply for the job. Launch the business. Write the article.

Start the podcast. Take the trip. Learn the skill.

Make the call. Send the email. Try.

Dreams take time.

Because as Anthony Bourdain reminded us:

“Your body is not a temple. It’s an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.”

Life is messy.

The path rarely unfolds exactly as planned.

But the alternative—never trying at all—is far worse.

Summer is here.

A new season is beginning.

And maybe your next chapter is waiting on the other side of one brave decision.

Here’s to fresh starts.

Here’s to curiosity.

Here’s to hope.

And here’s to failing gloriously.

Because sometimes that’s exactly how the best stories begin.

With gratitude,

Kristen

Continue the Journey

📖 Read the full companion essay on Substack

Subscribe for weekly stories about food, creativity, travel, mindset, entrepreneurship, and living a more artful life.

🎙️ Stay tuned for the companion podcast episodecoming soon

The Artful Gourmet Podcast is available on:

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Subscribe, leave a review, and share this episode with someone who might need a little encouragement today.

Because sometimes the biggest adventure starts with simply saying yes.

“The greatest risk isn’t failure. It’s never beginning.”

More recipes you might enjoy:

Gutsch’s Linguine & Clams

Rochester-Style Chicken French

Sweet & Spicy Shrimp Noodle Salad (Keto/Low carb)

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Beef Stroganoff Casserole: A Family Recipe, A Memory, A Song for Dad 💕

Beef Stroganoff Casserole

There are recipes we cook because we’re hungry.

And then there are recipes we cook because we miss someone.

Beef Stroganoff falls into the second category for me.

Dad in Vietnam, 1969

One year ago, on January 2nd, I lost my dad. And this dish—creamy, comforting Beef Stroganoff—was his favorite. My mom used to make it for our family dinners back in the 1970s, when evenings revolved around the table, music played softly in the background, and everyone was home.

Nothing fancy.

Just food made with love.

Every time I make this casserole now, I’m transported back to that kitchen. The smell of onions cooking in butter. Egg noodles steaming. A familiar song playing—“Ventura Highway” by America—floating through the house like sunshine.

Food has a way of doing that.

It brings people back.

Me, my Sister, & Dad 1977

The Story Behind This Beef Stroganoff

Beef Stroganoff has a long history, but like many classic dishes, it became something entirely its own in American home kitchens—especially during the 1960s and 70s.

In our house, it was practical and comforting. Ground beef instead of expensive cuts of steak. Mushrooms, sour cream, egg noodles. Sometimes served straight from the skillet, sometimes baked into a casserole so it stayed warm while everyone gathered.

It wasn’t just dinner.

It was routine.

It was togetherness.

It was my dad asking for seconds.

And the smiles on our faces as we enjoyed our delicious homemade meal together at the kitchen table.

This version honors those family dinners—the kind where no one rushed, where conversation mattered, and where love showed up night after night in the same familiar dishes.

Me and Dad, 2001

Why I Still Make This Recipe

Grief has a funny way of showing up when you least expect it—sometimes in the quiet moments, sometimes while stirring a pot on the stove.

Making this Beef Stroganoff Casserole doesn’t feel sad to me. It feels grounding. It feels like connection. It feels like my dad is still nearby, leaning against the counter, waiting patiently for dinner. Or out on the patio listening to his favorite music while enjoying a dram of Scotch and a fine cigar.

If you’ve ever cooked a meal to remember someone, you understand.

And if this dish reminds you of someone you love, I hope you’ll make it for them.

Dad’s 80th Birthday

1970s-Style Beef Stroganoff Casserole

A comforting, classic family dinner—perfect for sharing, remembering, and slowing down.

Prep Time: 15 minutes

Cook Time: 1 hour

Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 tablespoons butter

1 onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1½ pounds ground beef

8 ounces mushrooms, sliced

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1 cup beef broth

1 cup sour cream

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

Salt and pepper, to taste

8 ounces egg noodles, cooked and drained

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C).

In a large skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the chopped onion and garlic, cooking until soft and translucent.

Add the ground beef and mushrooms. Cook until the beef is browned and the mushrooms are tender. Sprinkle the flour evenly over the mixture and stir well to combine.

Slowly pour in the beef broth, stirring constantly to create a smooth sauce. Reduce heat to low and simmer for about 5 minutes, until thickened.

Remove from heat and stir in the sour cream, Dijon mustard, salt, and pepper. Add the cooked egg noodles to a greased casserole dish and pour the beef mixture over the top. Stir gently to combine.

Bake uncovered for 30 minutes, until hot, bubbly, and lightly golden around the edges. Serve warm and enjoy.

Nutrition (Approximate)

Calories: 450 Fat: 23g Carbohydrates: 32g Protein: 30g

Serving Notes & Variations

– Serve with a simple green salad or buttered peas for a true retro dinner.

– Leftovers taste even better the next day.

– This casserole freezes beautifully for future comfort meals.

A Song to Cook By

While this dish bakes, I always play “Ventura Highway” by America. It’s one of my dad’s favorite songs—and now forever tied to this recipe. Music, like food, has a way of holding memories gently. And transporting us back in time to happy memories of the people we loved and cherished the most in our lives.

👉🏻 Download printable recipe PDF

(Perfect for your recipe binder or to pass down as a family keepsake)

Food as Comfort

Food doesn’t fix grief—but it can soften it and comfort us when we miss them the most.

If this recipe brings you comfort, or reminds you of someone you love, I’d be honored if you shared your memory in the comments. We carry people forward in so many ways—and sometimes, it’s through the meals we keep making.

This one’s for you, Dad. 🤍

Ventura Highway, America 1975
Me and Dad, 1998
Dad’s last Christmas, 2024

1970s Spotify Playlist to listen to while cooking this recipe 🌟

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