Pat’s Tuscan White Bean Soup
Pat McGovern has called Virginia home her entire life. She lives in McLean with her husband Jim, two cats, Luna and Pebble, a lively family of chickens, and a few thousand honeybees that hum softly in the garden.
An IT wizard by trade and a maker at heart, Pat works from home — a place that’s equal parts garden, workshop, and laboratory. Since their daughter, Basil, has headed to college, Pat has had more time to make the house her home. Her hands move between the smooth keyboard and the textured earth: one moment analyzing, the next tending to her herbs or kneading dough.
Her curiosity and initiative have fueled the family’s quiet transition toward holistic living — a life of making, growing, and understanding. “It’s not about perfection,” she says, “it’s about trying, learning, and being part of the process.”
“The D.C. and Virginia area has changed so much,” she tells me. “When I was younger, food meant burgers, fried chicken, maybe pizza. But now, you walk down the street and find Vietnamese, Bolivian, Ethiopian, Korean… it’s incredible.”
For Pat, food diversity is more than a trend — it’s a reflection of how communities grow together.
“Every city has its own immigrant story,” she says. “Here, we had a large Vietnamese community come in the ’70s. People brought their recipes, their spices, their techniques. And once enough people wanted those foods, restaurants started popping up — not just for their own communities, but for everyone. That’s when it starts to spread.”
She calls it a “culinary ripple effect.” What starts as survival — recreating the flavors of home — becomes a cultural exchange.
“Once people who aren’t from those backgrounds start tasting the food, they realize — wow, this is good food. It doesn’t have to be burgers and fried chicken anymore. And then you get curiosity. Curiosity leads to acceptance.”
Pat is thoughtful about the rise of fusion cuisine.
“Fusion is the next level,” she says, “but I think we have to understand the roots before we mix them. Even what we call ‘authentic’ food here isn’t really the same as what’s served back home. The ingredients are different, the hands making it are different. And that’s okay — that’s evolution.”
She laughs, recalling the old takeout boxes of “Chinese food” from her childhood.
“The Chinese food I grew up with in the ’70s — sweet and sour pork, chop suey — it’s not Chinese food! You go to China, you won’t find that. But now we’re seeing a kind of renaissance. Chefs are bringing back traditional methods, and it’s like we’ve come full circle.”
Pat believes that every culture has gone through its own adaptation.
“I always tease that every culture has fried dough,” she says. “In America, it’s funnel cake. In France, it’s beignets. In Italy, zeppole. In Asia, I saw fried dough in Japan. Everyone has a version — and that’s what makes it beautiful.”
To her, the global table is not about ownership — it’s about sharing.
“Food belongs to everyone who respects it. You can honor the roots and still add your touch. The only sacred rule,” she smiles, “is to be open.”
Pat’s approach to food mirrors her philosophy of living — curious, inclusive, and brave enough to start.
“You don’t need to have all the right tools, or the perfect knowledge. Just start. Maybe it’s trying a new recipe or growing one herb on your windowsill. Where you start will lead you somewhere — maybe somewhere you didn’t even know existed.”
That sense of exploration — tasting, building, growing — is what connects her to the larger story of food in America today: the blending of roots, the rediscovery of authenticity, and the courage to embrace the unknown.
🌱 Recipe Box: Tuscan White Bean Soup (Pat’s Favorite Borrowed Classic)
Ingredients (4 servings):
2 tbsp olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 cans (15 oz) cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
1 sprig rosemary
4 cups vegetable broth
2 cups chopped kale or spinach
Salt and pepper to taste
Optional: grated Parmesan or lemon zest
Instructions:
Heat olive oil in a pot. Sauté onion until translucent.
Add garlic and rosemary; cook until fragrant.
Stir in beans and broth; simmer for 15 minutes.
Add greens and cook another 5–10 minutes.
Adjust seasoning, top with Parmesan or lemon zest.