What to do with the end of summer surplus?  Too many big honkin’ squash in your garden?  Too many ears of sweet corn in your CSA box these past few weeks and now you’ve got a surplus taking up too much room in the back of your fridge?   In the mood for one last summer swan song of a recipe before diving into the autumn treasures of root vegetables, antique apples, and juicy pears?   A little chilly suddenly with the coming of September and in the mood for soup? 

If you answered “yes” to one or more of the questions above, then I’ve got the perfect recipe for you!  Even if you didn’t answer “yes” to any of those questions (what’s wrong with you?!), you’ll still benefit from a large scrumptious bowl of this Summer Chowder.    It’s light enough to still pass as summery supping, but luscious and warming in a perfect prelude to fall fare. 

Notice how this recipe features a beautiful pair of summer squash (“pattypans” to be exact).  You might remember that I lamented in the last post about my serious lack of summer squash this season.  Low and behold, one of my sad-looking squash vines in the garden is putting on a heroic show of late summer determination, producing once again after I’d done everything but pronounce it dead and held a  less-than-ceremonious funeral for it at the compost pile.   I gave it a big gulp of compost tea yesterday and hope that it will churn out a few more squash for me before the weather gets too cool for this tropical plant.   Alas, it still doesn’t help me with my zucchini bread stash as this type of summer squash isn’t adaptable for baked goods. 

A lovely reader wrote me a few weeks ago, asking for recipes that might use up sweet corn that had been sitting around too long.  (Hope the move went well, Sara!)  While sweet corn will look good for quite some time if stored in its husk in a plastic bag in the fridge, it does quickly loose its best flavor as the natural sugars in the corn kernels immediately begin to deplete once the cob is removed from its mother stalk.    Because of this sugar breakdown, just-picked corn you buy at that farmers market or get in your CSA share is almost assuredly going to taste better than anything you’d ever get in the supermarket where the corn was probably picked at least a week before it ever made it to the produce section.    The best corn you’ll ever have is that which has just been shucked off the stalk in your own garden and immediately boiled and eaten. 

This chowder recipe is a great use for that corn on the cob that has been languishing for a few days or even weeks.  As the sugars break down in the kernels, they convert to starch.  Starch is not so nice to eat fresh off the cob, but it is an excellent thickener for savory chowder.   It can be a bit bland if the corn is quite old so don’t be afraid to add heaps of herbs to lend flavor.  I have a big pot of lemon grass growing on my deck and thought it would be interesting to try it in this recipe.  I didn’t notice any overt lemon flavor in the final bowl, but I do think it added a complexity that made each new spoonful ever more addicting.   Use lemon balm or lemon verbena in place of the lemon grass or try a whole new angle with cilantro and tarragon. 

~

Summer Chowder
A Straight from the Farm Original

1 T. extra virgin olive oil
6 cloves of garlic
1 large onion
5-6 ears of corn
3 C. vegetable broth
3/4 C. heavy cream
1/4 t. freshly ground nutmeg
2 t. salt
1 t. freshly ground black pepper
1 large summer squash
1 t. finely minced lemon grass
1 t. finely minced mint

Set a large skillet or saucepan over medium heat.  Heat olive oil while you chop the garlic and onion.  Saute garlic and onion while you cut the corn kernels off the cobs.  Add the corn kernels to the pan and stir regularly until the corn begins to take on a little golden color.   Add the broth and simmer for about 5 minutes.  

Remove corn mixture from heat and process with a blender. It will not become completely smooth so don’t worry about that.   Add the cream to the blender and process again to combine.   Return mixture to the pan over low heat.   Add nutmeg, salt, and pepper.  If the soup is too thick for your tastes, add a little more cream or broth now to thin it.  Let simmer while you chop the squash into small cubes, removing the seeds if they’re large. 

Add chopped squash, lemon grass and mint to the soup and simmer on low heat, being sure not to let it boil, until squash is tender, about 15 minutes.  Serve with a mint garnish and crusty bread for dipping.

(serves 6)

I can’t tell you how many times a customer came up to me last season while I was working at the Headhouse Farmers Market and, upon buying a shocking number of sorrel bunches, raved on and on about the soup they planned to make with it – schav.  This Russian/Polish/Yiddish classic apparently had a large following of devotees among the shoppers at the market, but I’d never tried it myself.  As much as I love sorrel, I wasn’t convinced I wanted it as a base for a cold soup.  From what I gathered from these schav zealots, you put a ton of sorrel in a pot of water and waited until it boiled down and then let it chill.  I pictured a lumpy green slime with a distinctively bitter taste to boot.  Of course, I misunderstood.

With gobs of sorrel growing like gangbusters in the container on my deck, I decided it was time to work out my apprehensions and confusion about this much touted sorrel soup.  As it turns out, schav is a complex soup, both in flavor and in concept.  Since its origin is a bit muddled, it seems the recipe has also gotten a bit jumbled along the way and across the generations.   As I went on an online treasure hunt for a “traditional” schav recipe, I quickly discovered recipes from all over the world and all with a unique twist to the list of ingredients.  The only ingredients that seemed “mandatory” were the sorrel (duh!) and at least one egg. 

Ironically, after searching high and low (electronically speaking, of course) for the perfect cold sorrel soup recipe, I found the one I fancied the most right on my own cookbook shelf.  This one, which I’ve decided for the sake of full disclosure to call Sorrel & Roasted Potato Soup, seemed to have more umph, including potatoes and cucumbers to offset the zing of the sorrel.  Oh, and by the way, in case you’re worried the way I was, the sorrel doesn’t get lumpy at all – rather it just sort of dissolves to create a luscious and delicious broth.   Thumbs up for the “schav”! 

 Chilled Sorrel & Roasted Potato Soup
Adapted from A Good Day for Soup

2 large bunches of sorrel
1 small onion, finely diced
4 C. water
1 egg, beaten
¾ C. sour cream
Salt and pepper
3 C. roasted potatoes*
1 small cucumber, finely diced

*To make the roasted potatoes, scrub and cube about five medium potatoes.  Toss with a tablespoon of olive oil and season with salt, pepper, and other seasonings as desired.  Roasted in a preheated oven at 425 F for 20 minutes or until the potatoes are golden brown and soft.   Set aside to cool. 

Wash the sorrel well and remove the tough ribs from each leaf.  Roughly chop or tear the leaves.  In a large saucepan, simmer the sorrel and diced onions in the water for 20 minutes.  Remove the from heat.  Using a ladle, slowly stream some of the hot liquid into the eggs while whisking at the same time, about a cup.   Whisk the egg mixture back into the main soup pan. 

Transfer soup to a bowl, cover and chill until ready to serve (should chill for at least 2 hours).  Stir in the sour cream until well blended and taste for salt and pepper.  Add potatoes and cucumber and serve immediately. 

(serves 4)

Hey, would you look at this!  There’s a food post on SFTF again!  And here you’d thought it had become a gardening blog.  Truth of the matter is that the local food pickin’s are slim here in March when we’re just shy of getting the season’s first lettuce and baby greens.  I’ve had to look to my shrinking stash of root vegetables to carry us through the last few weeks of “winter”.  Even if it is 70 degrees outside my front door today here in Philadelphia, it’ll be awhile yet until there’s much fresh eating to be had from the garden and at the farmers markets. 

See that ugly duckling up there?  The one in the upper left?  I swear it’s quite tasty, even if it’s not pretty!  Celeriac root became a favorite over the course of this winter.  I’ve recently been converted to mild anise flavors in my food and tea even though I hated, to the point of gagging, the taste of black licorice when I was a kid.  Since I was so repulsed by anise in the past, I really hadn’t give celeriac much of a shot since I’d heard it tasted a bit like licorice. 

Once I gave it a try, celeriac (also called celery root because it’s celery family member grown for its root, not stalks) turned out to have very little anise flavor (at least the ones grown at the farm).  Instead I find it rather nutty and a little biting like celery sometimes is.  I’m muddling up describing it for you, I know, but I hope you’ll be intrigued enough to grab one of these scruffy roots next time you see it to give celeriac a chance to prove it’s what’s on the inside that counts. 

Celeriac is almost synonymous with soup.  It’s good for adding that little “something” to the flavor and for thickening it up.  This Celeriac and Ginger Soup has a lovely silken texture and a complex taste thanks to the celeriac and ginger flavors playing so nicely together.  It’s very warming and has some unexplainable hint of spring in its fresh aroma. 

What are you subsisting off of in these last few weeks of winter?

Celeriac and Ginger Soup
Adapted from Totally Vegetarian

1 medium celeriac bulb, peeled and diced
1 large carrot, peeled and diced
1 medium potato, scrubbed and diced
1 large head of garlic, peeled and cloves left whole
2 inch piece of ginger, grated
6 cups vegetable broth
Salt to taste
½ cup milk
½ teaspoon dried marjoram or cilantro
Pinch of cumin
Freshly ground black pepper

Combine the celeriac, carrot, potato, garlic and ginger in a large heavy saucepan.  Cover with the vegetable stock and add a sprinkle of salt.  Bring to a boil and then reduce the heat to low.  Simmer for about 30 minutes or until all the vegetables are soft when pierced with a fork.  Remove from heat and let cool for a few minutes.

Puree the soup in a blender or food processor until it is smooth and creamy.  An immersion blender works great for this.  Return soup to the saucepan over low heat.  Stir in the milk (if it is thicker than you’d like, you may add more milk or a little water to thin the soup as desired) and season with dried herb, cumin and pepper.   Taste and adjust seasonings as needed.  Serve hot.

(serves 4)

This week finally felt like winter around here.  Don’t get me wrong.  It’s certainly been frigid for several weeks now, but the skies were gray and the ground dull brown.  The epitome of winter, at least in my mind, is brilliant blue skies with blinding sunlight streaming down that makes a generous blanket of snow glisten as it crunches under your feet.  That’s what this week has been in southeastern Pennsylvania.  And the sunsets…ah, the winter sunsets are the most beautiful with hues of violet, crimson and orange that cut through the leafless trees.   There’s another stunning one developing right this very minute as I type.  I love that my window looks west!

I won’t bore you with a tired line like “winter’s the perfect season to snuggle up with a bowl of soup”.  You know that already.  What you might not think about though is making soup out of whatever is lying around your kitchen, rather than trooping off to the store to buy ingredients, or – gasp! – a can.  Before we get to discussing today’s recipe for Roasted Root Vegetable Stew, I’m going to take the liberty to reprint here the soup “blueprint” I posted last January.  

The Soup Blueprint
1. Heat your fat (oil or butter or lard) in a large soup pot
2. Sauté any combination of garlic and onions (add more of whichever you like)
3. Add pinches of salt and pepper with each addition of ingredients in order to build your flavor
4. Add any combination of vegetables and continue sautéing
5. Add your dried herbs and spices and continue sautéing
6. Add your stock, at least enough to let the vegetables swim freely
7. Bring to a boil
8. If you want any pastas or grains, add them now (be very generous with your stock if using these)
9. Reduce to a simmer and cook until everything’s soft and happy – usually about 30 minutes
10. Add fresh herbs during the last ten minutes of cooking
11. Blend if you want a smooth soup and/or add cream if you want
12. Taste and season with more salt and pepper
13. Taste again!
14. If you wanted meat in there somewhere, depending on if it’s cooked or raw, add it in either step two (to brown beef), eight (to cook chicken), or ten (for cooked anything)

Capiche? 

So there I was, in the mood for a thick hearty soup, staring into my pantry and brainstorming.  The only substantial local ingredients in there right now are a diverse assortment of root vegetables: parsnips, rutabagas, celeriac root, sweet potatoes, white potatoes, onions and carrots.  How I love roasted vegetables, particularly any of the root variety!  It wasn’t a big mental leap then to think of roasting the roots first before putting them in some broth for a stew.  Added a few chick peas from the cupboard and pinches of herbs, and I had just what I was craving.  Perhaps it’s precisely what you’re craving too? 

Huh, would you look at that?  I just realized this picture has the exact same colors as that sunset outside my window!  How perfect!

~

Roasted Root Vegetable Stew
A Straight from the Farm Original

1 large rutabaga
2 medium russet potatoes
1 large or several small parsnips
1 large carrot
1 large sweet potato
1 small celeriac root
1 medium onion
1 can (14 oz) of chic peas, drained
1 T. olive oil
Salt & freshly ground black pepper
1 t. dried marjoram or thyme
1 t. freshly finely chopped rosemary (optional)
3-4 C. vegetable broth

*Note: Since vegetable sizes are somewhat arbitrary, just be sure to have roughly one cup’s worth of each of the above vegetables.

Scrub and trim ends and any bad spots off of all the root vegetables.  I did not peel mine, but you may wish to peel some or all of the root vegetables.  The celeriac in particular could benefit from a quick “haircut” to get rid of some of the rougher outer edges. 

Preheat your oven to 450 F.  To prep the vegetables for roasting, cut everything, including the onion, into 1 inch cubes.  Place on a foil-lined cookie sheet or in a roasting pan.  Add the chic peas to the chopped vegetables. Drizzle with oil and toss with your hands so everything is evenly coated.  Rinse your hands and season the vegetables with a generous pinch each of salt and pepper and the teaspoon of herb.  Toss again with your hands and spread into a single layer. 

Roast vegetables in the oven for 30-40 minutes or until they are browning at the edges, but still fairly juicy.  Just before the vegetables are ready, bring 3 cups of vegetable broth to a boil in a large saucepan.  When vegetables are done roasting, carefully add to the hot broth.  If desired, add the additional cup of broth.  Let soup simmer on medium heat for 10 minutes.  Using the back of your stirring spoon, press some of the vegetables up against the side of the saucepan until they are smashed to help thicken the soup.  Taste and adjust seasoning as needed. 

Serve piping hot with hunks of homemade bread. 

(serves 4)

‘Tis the season for the sniffles…I got ‘em, you got ‘em, everyone’s got ‘em.  Misery loves company right?  Another love of those of us dogged by the flu or a cold is soup.  Nothing beats a steaming savory bowl of soup when you’re sick, or, for that matter, any other time the mercury drops below 40.  How fitting then that January is National Soup Month here in the States.

Last winter I did some thematic weeks of posting, including two separate Week of Soup events.  These proved to be a very popular series here on SFTF so I know several of you love soup as much as I do.  A pot of soup gurgling on the stove is the ultimate in comfort food. Quite often, as in this particular instance, it’s incredibly healthy too, crammed full of vitamins and minerals.

But I also know there are others of you that are a bit intimidated by making homemade soup.  I have a wonderfully easy recipe to share with you today that will make even the most timid cook a quick study on stews.  Anne Bramley’s Eat Feed Autumn Winter is the source for this hearty rustic Quick & Easy Italian Soup.  As Anne does so often in the cookbook, she introduces this recipe with a keenly accurate and witty description: “This is the little black dress of the winter cooking world.  Everybody has that simple little number to throw on without much fuss.”

It’s true!  Just like that dress (or that shirt, for you fellas) in your closet that’s the workhorse of your wardrobe and somehow still manages to always elicit at least one compliment every time you wear it, this tasty soup is very simple to make and yet ridiculously flavorful.  Dress it up or down with a few accessories – crusty chewy rolls for instance – and you’ve got yourself a soup that will take you from a quick workday lunch to a cozy romantic dinner for two. 

Curious about kale?  The kind I used in this pot of soup is called “dinosaur” kale (or just “dino” for short or ‘Lacinato’ variety for those that want a more technical name) and is an old-world variety favored by Italian great-grandmothers for its flavor and texture.  I think it’s just such a beautiful green. You could use any variety of kale for this soup, but I do recommend getting the dino kale if you can find it.  If you’re kale-less all together, collards could be substituted here.  Kale of any variety is abundant in vitamin A, vitamin C, manganese, calcium and good ol’ fiber.  Eat a lot of this and you’ll be sure to easily slip back into your own little black dress and beat that pesky winter cold.

QUICK & EASY ITALIAN SOUP
Adapted from Eat Feed Autumn Winter

1 large bunch fresh kale
2 T. olive oil
4 garlic cloves, finely minced
5 C. vegetable broth
14 oz. can of diced Italian herbs tomatoes
1 lb. Italian sausage (soy varieties are available)
14 oz. can of cannelloni beans, drained
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Red pepper flakes to taste
Small pinch of cayenne

Remove the stems of kale, wash and dry.  Coarsely chop the leaves into 2 inch pieces.  In a large saucepan or soup pot, heat the oil over medium heat.  Sauté the garlic for about 2 minutes until it is fragrant.  Add the broth and tomatoes (and juice).  Turn the heat to high and bring to a boil. 

Add the sausage and kale, reduce to a simmer and cook, covered, for about 8-10 minutes or until the sausage is cooked through and the vegetables are tender.  Add the beans and heat through.  Season to taste with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes. 

(serves 4-6)

The mercury has taken a decidedly sharp turn downward and soup season, at least here in Pennsylvania, is in full swing.  I hadn’t made a big pot of soup since…um, let’s see…filing through the archives…ah, there!  Well, August wasn’t so long ago.  But before that, the last batch was made in January.  It’s high time to start stirring the pot again, don’t you think? 

I’ll start off this winter’s soup making with a recipe I’d clipped years ago (2004 to be exact) and, frankly, forgot.  You’d better believe I won’t be forgetting this Creamy Cauliflower-Garlic Soup again.  Ever. It is so simple to make, and yet it’s outright luxurious, like a fuzzy white bathrobe that engulfs you after a long hot soak in the tub.  Who knew cauliflower could be so dynamic? 

I have to shamefully confess that I had this soup prepared and all eaten a couple weeks ago.  I hate when my archives get backed up so I’m not posting the day after trying a recipe.  But this log jam in the drafts is auspicious in a few ways.  First, I can tell you that even now, several days and outstanding new recipes later, this soup still makes me drool.  Second, I can say with complete confidence that the leftovers are equally delicious and keep for several days in the fridge. 

So, go ahead!  Snuggle up with a bowl of this creamy wintry-white soup full of robust garlicky flavor.   You should still be able to find some local cauliflower at a farmers market or stand.  As for me, I happen to stash away a few bags of prepped florets in my freezer so I can make more soup as the flurries fly.   If you can get the extras, I’d recommend blanching it for two minutes and flash freezing it on a tray before bagging it up for future use.

Creamy Cauliflower-Garlic Soup
Adapted from Sunset, December ’04 Issue

1 head garlic, unpeeled
1 T. butter
2 large or 3 small heads of cauliflower
8 C. vegetable broth
½ C. light cream
½ t. freshly ground nutmeg
¼ t. ground cinnamon
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Cooked bacon, crumbled (optional)
Minced chives (optional)

Using a sharp knife, cut the top half inch off the head of garlic.  Set garlic on a sheet of foil and top with butter and a dash of salt.  Draw up edges of foil and create a sealed pouch to enclose the garlic.  Bake at 400 F until garlic is soft when squeezed, about 45 minutes.  Carefully unwrap and let stand to cool. 

Meanwhile, trim the leaves off the cauliflower heads and cut into small florets, discarding any large stem pieces.  Place florets in a colander and rinse under cool water.  Drain before placing in a large soup pot.  Add broth and bring to a simmer over high heat.  Reduce heat to medium and cover, allowing the cauliflower to simmer until very tender, about 30-40 minutes.

Squeeze roasted garlic cloves from their skins into the soup pot and stir.  Add the cream and stir.  Using an immersion blender or working in batches with a standard blender, process the soup until smooth.  Return the soup to the pot and stir in the nutmeg, cinnamon, salt and pepper.  You will likely need to add a good deal of salt and pepper so taste as you add and don’t be afraid to add more. 

Serve soup garnished with bacon crumbles and/or chives if desired. 

(serves 10-12)

It’s almost here and I thought I’d better prepare all of you for it.  It’s the ying to the yang of vegetable gardening.  Those of you that are fortunate to have a little piece of ground to grow your own food will be very familiar with it.  Perhaps you shudder a bit just to think about it.  Or, if you’re like me, you lie in bed, eyes wide open, conjuring up ways to creatively sidestep it.

“It” is that deluge of fresh produce that starts to haunt every corner of your kitchen and basement, taunting you as it slowly deteriorates while you fret over and hunt out ways to use it up.  By late summer, you’ve grown a tad tired of zucchini, yellow squash, cucumbers, peppers, and even tomatoes.  Actually, I never tire of tomatoes, but I do get full before I can finish each new batch that comes off my prolific vines.  I’m no psychic, but I’m pretty sure making a batch of oven-dried tomatoes is in my near future. 

For now though, I found some inspiration for fresh uses over in the archives of Simply Recipes.  I modified the original recipe and gave it a new name – Use ‘Em Up Cold Summer Soup!  How full of promise is that title?  Question is, does it live up to the hype?

Yes!  This soup does indeed use up a good deal of the fresh summer bounty lying on the kitchen counter and tucked away in the crisper drawer.  It gets major points for that.  It also racks up points for requiring no cooking in the (typically) hottest month of the year.  And, let’s not forget, the flavor.  This soup is extremely light and cooling with a rush of tomato flavor that’s quickly joined by the more robust taste of the zucchini and herbs.  I liked how the cucumber crunched a bit and the vinegar and Worcestershire sauce gave it some tang in a pleasant aftertaste.  I’m not a huge fan of chilled soups but I found myself craving this one the next day. 

Make sure to have a loaf of crusty bread on hand or some chunky homemade croutons to soak up some of the broth.  It’s summer in a bowl…a bowl that saves your culinary sanity this time of the year!

p.s. – Yes, I know this is a glorified form of gazpacho.

Use ‘Em Up Cold Summer Soup
Adapted from Simply Recipes

2-3 fresh large very ripe tomatoes
1 small cucumber, seeded and chopped fine
1 bell pepper, seeded and chopped fine
4 or 5 small tender Swiss chard leaves, cut into fine ribbons
2 or 3 small sorrel leaves, cut into fine ribbons
1 T. fresh basil, chopped
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
2 small zucchini, chopped fine
1/2 medium onion, chopped fine
2 t. honey
1 t. Worcestershire sauce
2 T. extra virgin olive oil
1/4 C. white wine vinegar
1-2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1+ C. tomato juice (in addition to the juice squeezed from the tomatoes above)
1+ C. vegetable broth

Cut tomatoes in half, squeeze out the seeds over a strainer and bowl to catch the juice.  Discard the seeds and pour the juice into a large ceramic or plastic bowl.  Roughly chop tomatoes and add to the bowl.

Combine remaining chopped vegetables in the bowl.  In a separate small bowl, whisk together the honey, vinegar, Worchester sauce, oil, salt and pepper.  Pour over vegetable and toss.  Add the vegetable broth and tomato juice, using equal parts until you reach the desired consistency.  Adjust seasonings to taste.  Chill overnight for best flavor.  Serve with crusty bread.

(serves 6)

I turned on the heat the other night!  Do you know how crazy a statement that is for mid-August in southeastern Pennsylvania??  It’s utterly unthinkable.  But the unthinkable happened when the normally muggy hot night time temperatures started falling to the 50s this week. The 50s!!  I adore autumn weather so I was in my glory, sporting sweaters for my early morning work in the garden and wearing my favorite threadbare hooded sweatshirt while I studied on the porch in the evenings. 

I immediately started thinking about all the stuff I needed to get done in the garden before frost, like dividing some of perennials and digging out the sweet potatoes.  I had to stop my racing thoughts and remind myself that it was still just August and that things will no doubt warm up again for quite some time before autumn is truly here.  I have to say, though, that if it stayed like this, I wouldn’t complain a bit. 

Besides thoughts of putting the garden to bed for the winter, I started craving soup.  And not just a light summery soup either.  Nope, I wanted a hearty thick soup that warms you from the inside out.   A ”stew” really…  I started looking over the basket of produce I’d just brought in from the garden and contemplating my options: lots of yellow cherry tomatoes, a big bunch of King Midas carrots, and some lovely tender Black Beauty eggplants.  A quick search and I found the perfect recipe: Roasted Tomato and Eggplant Soup. 

I really enjoy the mildness of yellow tomatoes, no matter how they’re served.  I believe this soup benefited from the lower acidity of having yellow tomatoes in it.  They also gave it a lovely hue of gold.  That being said, the original recipe called for your average red tomato and I’m sure that’d be fine too.  The roasted eggplant and garbanzo beans impart an almost meatiness to the soup (and certainly a nuttiness from the beans).  I was timid with my curry powder but next time I might very well double it, especially when the real chill of winter comes. 

I’m still shaking my head.  Thick hot soup.  In August. 

Who’d have thought it?!? 

Roasted Eggplant and Tomato Soup
Adapted from Everyday Food

2 pints yellow/orange cherry tomatoes, halved lengthwise
2 C. carrots, sliced into thin rounds
8-10 garlic cloves
4 T. olive oil
Coarse salt and ground pepper
2 medium eggplant, cut into 3/4-inch chunks
1 can (15.5 oz) chickpeas, drained and rinsed
2 t. curry powder
2-2 ½ C. water
fresh cilantro, for garnish

Preheat oven to 425°F, with racks on top and bottom.

On a rimmed baking sheet lined with foil, toss together tomatoes, carrots, garlic, 2 tablespoons of oil, a pinch of salt and a pinch of pepper. Spread in a single layer, with the tomatoes cut sides down.

On another rimmed baking sheet lined with foil, toss together eggplant, chickpeas, curry powder, remaining two tablespoons of oil, a pinch of salt and pepper. Spread in a single layer. Place both sheets in oven (tomato mixture on the top rack). Roast until tender, tossing mixtures halfway through, about 35 minutes.

Purée tomato mixture (including juices) in a blender or food processor until smooth. Add a little water if needed to get it going.  Transfer to a large saucepan. Stir in eggplant mixture and add enough water to thin to the desired consistency. Bring to a simmer over medium heat. Season with salt and pepper. Serve, sprinkled with cilantro; garnish with toasted bread if desired.

(serves 4)

Wow, I can’t believe it’s Friday.  Know what that means?  We’ve reached the end of SFTF’s Week of Soup – already!  I have to say this has been one of my favorite weeks to date here on the blog.  I mean, how could it not be?  I love soup.  And many of you do too, it seems, from all your great feedback! 

Back on Monday, when this whole affair started, I mentioned that I’d be ending the week with a little self-challenge to prove that making soup doesn’t require a fancy recipe as long as you have the basic blueprint for building your own.  While I observed that anything can go into soup from watching my mom, I really learned this basic soup blueprint from a wonderful woman named Mary.   About a decade back (gosh, writing that makes me feel old), I did a stint in Northern Ireland – Belfast to be exact.    I was studying at Queen’s University and just soaking up life in my favorite part of the world (I’d been there before and I’ve definitely been back since…there’s just nothing quite like it). 

Since renting a flat there wasn’t cheap and my savings were meager, I needed a job and set out looking for one right away at some of the cafes with “help wanted” signs in their front windows.  I guess my accent turned them off as I didn’t get a single bite.  Dejected, I walked the 20 or so blocks back home to save the cab fare.  Just across from the university’s campus where I’d be studying in a few weeks, I saw what I thought was a used book store.  Nothing, save for a good piece of chocolate cake, cheers me up like browsing the dusty shelves of a used book store.  I pushed open the heavy red door and entered a world that would, over the coming months, literally re-shape who I was. 

Bookfinders, as it turned out, was really a tiny bookstore in the front and a cave of a café in the back, presided over by Mary, a chain-smoking, outspoken, aged-beyond-her-years, passionate-as-heck cook/owner.   I sat down for a bowl of her Five Spice and Courgette Soup and, even though there was no sign in the window, immediately knew I had to work there to learn how to make that soup. 

Back then, I was a timid country mouse, not used to going after the things I wanted with the same bull-headedness I possess today.  I shyly approached Mary, who was obviously in charge, and hesitantly asked if she might be looking for some help.   I’m not sure why she hired me.  I came to find out she didn’t need the help.  I think she wanted to see what I was made of…to see if she could put some fire in my bones.   Or maybe it was just because she, unlike the rest of the Belfast population, enjoyed hearing the American accent. 

Someday I’ll write the novel that my time at Bookfinders deserves, including its entire cast of characters – Jo (crazy Aussie trying to find her way home), Neil (ridiculously talented concert pianist gone slightly mad), Maeve (second-tier British royalty with the most lovely personality) and the other Mary (wizard behind finding the most obscure old books for the operations up front).   But all you really need to know about now is the way my time in the tiny kitchen in the back changed my cooking habits forever. 

Remember that Five Spice and Courgette Soup that lured me in?  There was no recipe.  It just followed the blueprint, as did all of Mary’s other ridiculously addicting soups that brought our regulars back day after day.   So much of what Mary served just came from the heart – what was she in the mood for that day;  did she feel like running to the shops;  was Neil coming for a visit and would he be wanting one thing over another;  could she really be bothered to cook when it was so damn cold/hot out?  

Each day we wrote out the ever-changeable menu on the chalk board and almost always sold out of everything.   By the end of my tenure there, I was practically running the kitchen while Mary was fluttering about, loving her customers and loving life.  See, she taught me how to cook with passion, instead of just following recipes, and that’s all I needed to know to duplicate her soups and more.  Well, that and the blueprint.   

The Blueprint
1. Heat your fat (oil or butter or lard) in a large soup pot
2. Sauté any combination of garlic and onions
3. Add pinches of salt and pepper with each addition of ingredients in order to build your flavor
4. Add any combination of vegetables and continue sautéing
5. Add your dried herbs and spices and continue sautéing
6. Add your stock, at least enough to let the vegetables swim freely
7. Bring to a boil
8. If you want any pastas or grains, add them now.
9. Reduce to a simmer and cook until everything’s soft and happy – usually about 30 minutes
10. Add fresh herbs during the last ten minutes of cooking
11. Blend if you want a smooth soup and/or add cream if you want
12. Taste and season with more salt and pepper
13. Taste again! 
14. If you wanted meat in there somewhere, depending on if it’s cooked or raw, add it in either step two (to brown beef), six (to cook chicken), or ten (for cooked anything)

Which brings us right back to the evening of January 17, 2008, and my challenge to myself:  No recipe.  No planning/shopping.  Make soup.   And darn good soup it turned out to be! 

My Week of Soup Challenge: Herbed Tofu and Vegetable Soup
Definitely a Straight from the Farm Original

2 T. extra virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 small onions, chopped
1 c. chopped carrots
1 celery stalk, chopped
1/2 c. diced tomatoes (I used canned)
2 t. dried marjoram
1 t. dried oregano
1 T. frozen basil puree or 2 T. fresh chopped
4 c. vegetable stock
1 c. small noodles or other pasta
1 sprig of fresh rosemary, finely minced
1 package of extra firm tofu, drained and diced
1 large scallion, sliced thin
salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat the oil in a large heavy sauce or soup pot over medium heat.  Add the garlic and onion.  Stir and add a pinch of salt.  Keep an eye on the onion and garlic while you chop the carrots and celery; when onion is translucent and garlic is browned, add the carrot and celery.  Stir and add a pinch of pepper this time.  Saute vegetables for about four minutes until they are beginning to soften.  Add the diced tomatoes, oregano, marjoram and basil (if using frozen, otherwise save any fresh herbs for later in the process), stir and cook for another minute or two.  Add another pinch of salt and pepper.

Add vegetable stock, raise heat and bring soup to a boil.  Add pasta and turn down heat to medium again.  After pasta begins to soften up (about 2 minutes), add the tofu, white parts of the scallion, and rosemary (if using fresh basil, add now too).  Allow soup to simmer for about 10 minutes so the flavors meld.  Taste and season with more salt and pepper as needed.   Serve garnished with the green slices of scallion.

(serves 3-4)

 

I find myself giggling over here, tucked behind my computer monitor.  What’s so funny, you ask?  I’m just realizing as I type in this post for Citrusy Cream of Carrot Soup that I’ve already discussed the two things I was planning to this time… 

I was going to rave about A Good Day for Soup. 
PBeen there. 

I was going to talk about how adding the parsnip gives just a hint of extra sweetness. 
PDone that. 

And here I was trying to get a really diverse group of soup recipes together for you.  Now I’m starting to feel a bit sheepish…

But, wait!  This recipe is unique!   How many of you have managed to mix the three distinct flavors of sweet, tart, and creamy all into one bowl of vitamin C and beta-carotene overload?!?  Hands in the air, people!   Yeah, that’s what I thought.  I only saw two hands.  The rest of you will find this recipe refreshing, both on the page and in your mouth. 

I’ll step aside now and let the pretty pictures do the rest of the talking. See, carrot soup is good for your eyes!! 

Citrusy Cream of Carrot Soup
Adapted from A Good Day for Soup

1 c. vegetable stock
1 1/2 c. sliced carrots
1/2 c. chopped parsnip
2 shallots, minced
1/4 t. fresh thyme, lightly chopped
1/2 T. honey
2 T. fresh orange juice
1 t. fresh lemon juice
2 T. plain yogurt
salt and pepper
orange slices for garnish

In a medium saucepan, bring stock to a boil.  Add carrots, parsnip, shallots, thyme, and honey.  Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 30 minutes.  Remove from heat and pulse with an immersion blender or in a regular blender.  Add orange and lemon juices and blend until smooth.  Stir in yogurt.  Taste for salt and pepper before serving garnished with a dollop of yogurt if desired. 

Can be eaten warm or chilled.

(serves 1-2)