Category Archives: soup

SOUP HYBRID

I read what feels like a million food blogs, all awesome in their own way, and when I come across something particularly delicious I file it in a crazy, unmanageable folder in my bookmark toolbar called ‘EAT.’ (This folder has its own subset of folders with names like FAT and EZ). Yet I rarely follow recipes exactly, so it was two different soups made by The Wednesday Chef (roasted carrot and red lentil soup and cabbage soup) that served as the inspiration for this hearty (and vegan if you use vegetable broth!) soup. My proportions make for a nice small batch, about four bowls’ worth.

Red lentil and cabbage soup

1/2 cup red lentils
1 stick celery, diced
1 carrot, diced
1 shallot, roughly chopped
4 garlic cloves, peeled but not chopped
2 T tomato paste
1/2 T cumin
1/2 T smoked paprika
2 T olive oil, and more to finish
Salt and pepper to taste
4 C homemade chicken or vegetable stock
2-3 C finely chopped green cabbage
1 Bay leaf
Juice of one lemon
Chopped herbs to garnish (I used dill, parsley, and cilantro)

—In a medium-sized cast enamel pot, melt two tablespoons of olive oil over medium-low heat.
—Add and gently soften the celery, carrot, shallot, ginger and garlic, about 10 minutes.
—Add tomato paste, bay leaf, cumin, paprika, salt, and pepper, and stir to coat.
—Add lentils and stir.
—Pour in chicken broth and bring soup to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook lentils to tenderness, about 20-25 minutes, adding more broth if necessary.
—Using an immersion blender, puree soup until fairly smooth.
—Add cabbage and gently cook until wilted and soft, about 1 hour. Add more broth to loosen up the soup if it starts looking thick.
—Garnish with greek yogurt, freshly chopped herbs, more salt and pepper, and a little olive oil, and enjoy! I also made a batch of homemade baked tortilla chips, which I embellished with fleur de sel and smoked paprika. Perfect dunking vessels.

NOODLE TIME

Growing up in San Diego, I regularly ate steaming bowls of yun tun mian for lunch at the cheap Chinese restaurants scattered throughout University City or Convoy (which resulted in my super-pro shoveling technique as seen above). In Hong Kong, the tiny, delicate “wontons” are stuffed with hefty chunks of shrimp, suspended in a rich noodle-dense soup. All of the magic, of course, resides in the broth, which is enriched with pork bones, scallions, and dried shrimps. Interestingly, the dish’s provenance is northern Chinese (hence my familiarity with it growing up), but it’s become very popular with Cantonese Hong Kong residents, who have adopted the dish to suit their own Southern tastes. I’ve noticed this with so much northern or Sichuan dishes — Hong Kong folk love to take regional cuisine and put a weird hybridic Cantonese spin on it. Just fantastic.

SOUP’S STILL ON

There’s nothing quite like being fussed over on your birthday. So it was extra wonderful to wake up to a perfect breakfast of smoked salmon omelet, toast, and cheese on the morning of my birthday. It was so nice outside that day — probably the last terrace breakfast of the year.

I’ve been so lax about posting recipes lately, but I wanted to share my favorite vegetable soup recipe. This soup can be customized to support whatever vegetables happen to be in your refrigerator, reheats really well, and is very amenable to ingredient additions throughout the week (on day two, I think I added a handful of penne and some roasted red peppers into the pot).

Simple Vegetable Soup

[Notes: I think fresh cannellini beans are out of the market at this point — I know, so sad — but I like to buy a surplus during the summer, and then keep small jars of the fresh ones frozen in the freezer. Canned or dried would be adequate, but nothing quite beats the freshness or creamy texture of the just-shelled variety. Also, I like to exclusively use my own chicken stock. I know exactly what's in it, and that makes me feel good. In my mind, I can always taste the cardboard of the boxed variety. I consider it worth the effort to always have a few litres of frozen stock ready for a soup or a risotto. And about those tomatoes: I leave the skins and seeds in because this soup is so rustic; if you're a bit more detailed-oriented feel free to peel and de-seed! But in my mind, this is the kind of soup that you don't think about. Chop things roughly, in weird sizes, throw it in the pot, stir when you feel like it. Don't think too much about it. Pretty much every ingredient here is interchangeable, and the end product will still be delicious, nourishing, and not too precious.]

1 celery stalk, diced finely
1 carrot, diced finely
2 shallots, diced finely
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup cannellini beans
3-5 small new potatoes, in a big dice
2 tomatoes, diced
5-7 cups chicken stock
1 t smoked paprika
1 t cumin
1 t red chili pepper flakes
2 sprigs thyme (leave on the branch, just pluck it out when the soup is ready)
2 bay leaves
juice of 1/2 lemon
3 cups packed baby spinach, rinsed
salt, pepper

—In a large, enamel-coated cast iron pot over low-medium heat, add 2 T of olive oil and 2 T of butter. When sizzling, add shallots, carrot, and celery and stir to coat. Cook 10 minutes, or until softened but not browned.
—Add potatoes, and stir to soften slightly, 5 minutes.
—Add cannellini beans, garlic, spices, and herbs. Stir heartily. Oh, and salt and pepper, too.
—Add tomatoes and chicken stock, bring to a boil, and immediately reduce to low simmer.
—Let simmer gently, with the lid off, for 30 minutes, or until beans and potatoes are just tender. Add water or more stock if needed.
—Turn off heat, and add the spinach. Stir to wilt.
—Serve immediately with a big squirt of lemon juice, and alongside crusty brown bread and sharp cheddar.

READY + WAITING

Does anyone else do this? I like to make a big pot of soup (top soup: tomato, cannellini, and vegetable; bottom soup: veal tortellini and Puy lentil) and snack my way through its contents over a period of three or four days. At the end of the course, I always need a big break from that particular soup. This weekend I almost exclusively ate from a big pot of dal. Done with dal, for now.

MORE EQUATIONS

Scallops + coral + parsley oil + garlic // heaven

Farfalle + brown lentils + minced carrot, red onion, garlic, parsley, bell pepper + lemon + splash of pasta water // (Big) 20 minute lunch

Beef tenderloin + peppers + onions + avocado + refried beans + lime over all + crackling pita // 20 minute TV dinner (hockey of course)

Beef stock + tomato paste + lentils + chipotles in adobo + potatoes + zucchini + cilantro // A very spicy, smoky soup

Fregola + fresh favas + mint + anchovy + capers (they are the same size exactly as fregola! Such a satisfying mouthfeel) + hot peppers + crispy artichokes + scallions // Sticky, chewy pasta (the best ever)

Cubed potatoes + shallot + lard + rosemary + smoked paprika // A quick snack that turned into lunch. (I always fry parboiled potatoes in a cast-iron skillet; the  crust is unbeatable, and the bits of shallot get super-crispy and charred).

SOUPE AUX POIS, MY WAY

I recently attempted to make a Quebec soupe aux pois, a hearty winter soup made with yellow peas and pork. I had a small bag of pork shoulder bones, leftover from a dinner party, that I was dying to use in a bean-based soup.

The yellow peas (soaked overnight) simmered in water with the pork bones until tender. I shredded the remaining pork into the broth, threw away the bones, and added carrots, celery, and onion, as well as plenty of hot pepper, cracked black pepper, a few bay leaves, chopped garlic, and some garam masala and tumeric (clearly this was not an authentic soupe aux pois). I pureed half the soup, and left the other soup intact, for a nice chunky texture. Huge bowls, sprinkled with cilantro and drizzled with olive oil, were the perfect accompaniment to my new favorite movie, Fletch. Now that is a very good movie!

FOUR SOUPS TO STAY WARM

1.

2.

3.

4.

Since I occasionally work from home, it can be super comforting to have a steaming pot of soup on the stove while writing all morning. It’s my midday reward — work until soup is finished. The first soup shown was also my favorite: a sort of bastardized minestrone, rich and savory from homemade chicken stock, and brightened with lemon juice and tomatoes.

I added a can of whole San Marzano tomatoes and two tablespoons of tomato paste to the (twice-strained for clarity) chicken broth. Then I added diced carrots, celery, red onion, garlic, bay leaf, thyme, and a big cup of brown lentils, rinsed and picked over. I let that come to a low boil and skimmed off the foam. Then I added diced red potatoes and shredded leftover roast chicken, and let simmer for as long as I could wait, about two or three hours. At the very end, a big handful of farfalle and minced parsley were added to the pot. Deeply nourishing, healthy, and delicious.

The other soups were great, too; a thick black bean soup dressed with lime juice, sriracha, cilantro, and parsley; Very spicy tortilla soup, made with homemade chicken stock, tomatoes, black beans, sweet potatoes, dried chili peppers, and shredded cheddar cheese; Brown lentil, butternut squash, rosemary, and pulled pork soup. I love smooth, pureed soups, too (especially of the squash, carrot, or bisque variety), but mostly as a snack or part of a larger meal. When it comes to lunch, and soup is the only dish, I demand a lot of textural and flavor variety, otherwise it gets too monotonous for me. At midday, I make soups that land more in the ‘stew’ category; ‘chunky’ works, too.

KIND OF CONSOMME

Last week I battled a brutal cold and sore throat. For days, I could barely muster enough energy to make a piece of toast, or a mug of a tea. Because it seems like everyone else I know is getting sick, too, I’d like to say that I firmly believe that this chicken consomme is what cured me. Kat and Jennifer, this one is for you.

Around 9am, I woke up with a blinding headache and a near inability to swallow. My boyfriend convinced me that chicken noodle soup would bring me back to life, so I stumbled to the kitchen, threw the bones from a roast chicken that I had saved, and I added whatever I could find in the refrigerator (diced carrots, baby leeks, a bundle of parsley, a quartered onion, whole garlic gloves, a knob of ginger), and a few things from the pantry (a pinch of black peppercorns, dried thyme, dried chili pepper, and bay leaf). I added three liters of water, and brought to a boil. Though I didn’t have an appetite at the time, by the time the simmering broth was done four hours later, I was finally ready for some soup.

I strained the broth three times to get a golden, clear liquid (not exactly a consomme, I realize, but the closest approximation I will arrive at while severely sick), and returned the chicken stock to the pot. I added one can of black beans, a teaspoon of cumin, more chili flakes, and a handful of orecchiette. The best touches came at the end: a handful of diced scallions, cilantro, more chili pepper, and a squeeze of lime. The soup was very light, yet rich in flavor; the spicy heat cleared up my stuffy nose, and the black beans gave me enough energy for the rest of the afternoon. 

EVE OF HOT POT

Hot pot is a culinary Chinese tradition that can be interpreted in an infinite number of ways. In our family, we tend to keep things simple and spicy. Every year, instead of anticipating Christmas morning with an overstuffed turkey and the requisite side dishes, we usher in the holidays with a festive Christmas eve meal of hot pot.

Heaping platters of finely sliced raw meats — including lamb, chicken, beef, or pork – are placed alongside plates of raw seafood like shrimp or fish. The tissue-thin slivers of raw meat — the thinner the cut, the faster (and better) it cooks – are poached in a tiny mesh basket that is carefully lowered into a hot pot full of bubbling water.  A variety of other aromatics, including snow peas, rice noodles, sprouts, mushrooms, lettuce and spinach, also flavor the broth. Finally, the cooked meats and vegetables are doused in our homemade savory peanut-sesame dipping sauce, and carefully tucked into a pita-like toasted Chinese bread.

At our house, the piping-hot bites are punctuated with ceramic cups filled with dangerously potent Chinese sorghum whisky. At the close of the meal, the reduced hot pot broth is ladled out like soup and slurped down with plenty of hot sauce. I’d choose it over a plate of dried-out turkey any day.

QUICK QUICK QUICK

Seriously, how is it Friday already? And December? Barely any time for lunch, except putting together a bowl of soup. Not really soup, just homemade chicken broth brought to a simmer, chopped spinach, leftover roast chicken, squeezes of lime + a heaping spoonful of sriracha. Soothing + filling + spicy + about 30 seconds of focus time required.