Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Double Celery Soup


Dear Michelle-

I am so ready for Spring. We just got back from a trip to Oregon to visit my in-laws and meet our new niece, and though it was rainy, even a little snowy, Winter is on its way out there. Crocuses and periwinkle were blooming, and the daffodils were on the cusp. Portland was green and mossy, beautiful when the sun made a brief appearance.


 We had a great time. We played with the baby, watched cable on the huge TV, and took advantage of much lower food and movie costs. There's a great lunch spot in Salem, OR, that deserves a mention here called the Wild Pear; I've been there several times over the years and it never fails to please. My sister in law and I had a terrific lunch there followed by gelato (also very good), and then I went back for both with Jeff and his mother the next day! We also went to see both Somewhere and Black Swan. Somwhere was very much what you'd expect of a Sophia Coppola movie, but in a good way (with the exception of the ending- what? really?). It was beautiful, and more about mood than it was plot. Black Swan was fantastic. I've heard it called melodramatic, by more than one person, but it is after all a psychological thriller, and very, very intense. Go see it if you can!


When in Portland, we went out to karaoke with some friends, which was great fun. You know I rarely drink, but karaoke is not something best done sober, at least not for me. I tried it once, but I never will again! We went to Voicebox, and I tried several of the sakes there, but I was blown away by one of them, Hou Hou Shu Sparkling Sake, described as, "Heaven in a bottle." Damned right. That stuff was amazing- light, floral but not too sweet, with a hint of coconut. Unfortunately it was also not so cheap, but I split one with someone and made do with the Sake2me sparkling sake after that, which was perfectly good. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for my karaoke skills, but I do have a lot of enthusiasm.


So now we are back in Brooklyn, wishing for Spring, and having seriously overindulged while away. It was the perfect time to make a Patricia Wells recipe I had fond memories of, double celery soup. This is a very simple, restorative soup with few ingredients: celery root, celery stalks, leeks, stock, and salt. She suggests adding a bouquet garni, but I didn't want to spend money on fresh herbs and added some herbes de Provence instead.


The soup is intended to be served as diced vegetables in broth, but I've found I like it as well, if not better, pureed with a little butter added. I served it with buttered bread, and crutons would be good too. Added is a photo of Jeff post-dinner that fit the color scheme. Also, here are some photos of Portland.


 Double Celery Soup from Bistro Cooking by Patricia Wells pg 31, recipe is verbatim

1 medium celery root, (about 1 lb; 500 g), peeled and diced
10 celery ribs, cubed
3 leeks (about 9 ounces; 270 g), trimmed, well rinsed and cut into thin rounds
Bouquet garni: 1 large sprig of thyme, 3 imported bay leaves, several sprigs of parsley, tied with string
2 quarts (2 l) chicken stock, preferably homemade
Salt and freshly ground pepper
A handful of chopped fresh herbs for garnish: including chervil, chives, flat-leaf parsley

In  large saucepan, combine the celery root, celery, leeks, and bouquet garni. Add the stock, and season gently with salt and pepper. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Simmer until the vegetables are soft, about 25 minutes. Adjust the seasonings. Pour into warmed shallow soup bowls. Sprinkle with the chopped herbs and serve immediately. Yield is 6 to 8 servings

Friday, June 18, 2010

Gazpacho Soup in Ciabatta Bread Bowls

Dear Devon,

Everywhere you turn in France, you will find good baguettes, so it seems almost unnecessary to single out any particular baker. But the baguettes at Eric Kayser's bakery are phenomenal. The crust is crunchy and thick, splintering into large shards with every bite. The inside is soft, pillowy and wonderfully salted. How can a loaf of bread embody heaven in crust and crumb? A fourth generation Parisian baker, Eric Kayser has absolutely, resolutely perfected the baguette...and all of Paris seems to know.

Exhausted from a morning fighting crowds at the Louvre, we decided to reinvigorate our drained spirits with a light snack at Eric Kayser. Unbeknownst to us, we stumbled across one of the most popular lunchtime spots in central Paris. French people are obviously crazy about le dejeuner. Everything stops in celebration of the midday repast. It's funny to note that even the bakery in Dijon closed. Picture this: A throng of elegantly coiffed men and women in business suits scrambling over one another in their quest for a baguette sandwich. The scene was like a desperate game of musical chairs, only with stuffed baguettes. Tuna salad, grilled chicken, ham and cheese, or roasted vegetable. When the music stops, the loser is left without a sandwich, and must walk dejected down the street to the competing bakery. If words fail to capture the essence of this lunchtime struggle, the Kandinsky painting below, which hangs in the Musée National d'Art Moderne at the Centre Pompidou, may help convey the wildness of the scene. Lesson learned: Don't get between a Frenchman and his lunch.

I had been given a copy of Eric Kayser's Sweet and Savory Tarts as a birthday present a few years back. Though the book was much appreciated, I had some difficulty relating to the recipes. Nonetheless, my curiosity was peaked. I had to try some of his delectable creations before leaving France. The experience has left me with nothing but admiration. I had to pack his 2007 release Autour Des Pains into my suitcase on the way back to New York.

I've had a few weeks to study Autour Des Pains. I found the text and images appealing and inventive. Kayser takes bread beyond a platform for cheese and salted meats, transforming this staple into a versatile superstar, comfortable on a coarse wooden table or effortlessly tucked into decadent dessert of roasted persimmons. One of his ideas that struck me was to use hollowed out loaves of bread as soup bowls. I love the idea of drinking soup, and then eating the bowl. It adds a bit of whimsy to your lunch and simplifies the clean up. I had to give it a try. In France the multitude of shapes and sizes of bread makes this soup bowl idea a bit easier to pull off. After much searching, I settled on a medium sized ciabatta. My biggest concern was the integrity of the crust. How long before the soup soaks through the thin walls of the bread bowl? It turns out toasted bread is impermeable to soup, but not to metal spoons.

Kayser gives a recipe for gazpacho. It was definitely hot out, so gazpacho seemed appropriate. I used a recipe that I perfected last summer. My friends have a penchant for gazpacho. After much encouragement, I began to experiment with the soup. I had not been a huge fan of gazpacho, mainly because it tasted too raw and a bit sour. I found that grilling the tomatoes softened many of those harsher flavors. While it's not a true gazpacho and doesn't spare you the hassle of turning on the stove, I think it's a good compromise.

Gazpacho Soup in Ciabatta Bread Bowls
inspired by Kayser, Eric Autour Des Pains Eric Kayser p. 52

2 vine ripe tomatoes
3 plum tomatoes
1/2 yellow onion
1 orange pepper
1 bunch parsley
1/2 cucumber
1/4 cup pecans, toasted
1/4 - 1/2 cup water
1/3 - 1/2 cup olive oil
1/4 tsp salt
1 tbsp ketchup
2 cloves garlic

1 Ciabatta Loaf

Halve the plum tomatoes lengthwise. Grill cut side down for about 10 minutes, until nice dark grill marks appear. Set aside to cool.

Roughly chop remaining tomatoes, yellow onion, orange pepper, and cucumber. Place all chopped veggies in the food processor or a blender along with garlic, parsley, toasted pecans, ketchup and salt. Add the cooled grilled tomatoes. With the machine running, pour in olive oil in a steady gentle stream. The amount of water and olive oil depends on the juiciness of your tomatoes. For richer soup, add more olive oil. Process or blend until smooth.

Set a mesh sieve over a large bowl. Working in batches, gently push the pureed liquid through the sieve. You want to strain about 2/3 of the soup. Straining the soup will eliminate a lot of the pulp and seeds while creating an overall soup with a smoother consistency. Whisk in the remaining 1/3 of the soup (unstrained). Combining the two mixtures creates a nice texture and heartiness to the soup. Place in the fridge to cool for about an hour.

Cut off both ends of the ciabatta loaf, so that you have two pieces, each about 4 inches long. The heal of the bread will be the bottom of your soup bowl. Hollow out the bread leaving a 1/4 inch of bread around the crust. Be careful not to pierce the crust. Sprinkle with a bit of olive oil and place on a baking sheet. Bake in the oven at 400 degrees for about 15 minutes until the bread is toasty and golden. Set aside and cool.

To prepare, cut two thin slice of bread. Rest the bread bowls on the sliced bread. The flat slices help to stabilize the pointed ends of the ciabatta. Pour the chilled soup into the cooled bread bowls. Serve with basil or a bit of parmesan cheese.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Fish Soup


Dear Devon,

For the past few years, I have been making a simple fish soup. It's not a recipe I read about or learned from anyone, but a dish that I threw together on a whim one wintry night. It was so successful that I've repeated it many times. Over the years, I've played around with the recipe, creating two versions. One is tomato-based, infused with garlic and spiced with red pepper flakes and parsley. The second is made from a more classic vegetable stock of carrots and onions or leeks, and flavored with dill. A fillet of firm fish is nestled into the hot stock and slowly poached until flaky.


Herbs bring a sensation of freshness to any dish. In the winter, I stock up on dill and parsley, in part to remind myself that snow melts and warm sunny days will return. Aside from flat leaf parsley, dill is one of my all time favorite herbs. I love its strong distinctive flavor and bold green color. I mix a handful into salads, eggs, soups, and beans. A friend of mine told me that his mom often added dill to her soups. I was shocked I hadn't thought of it and quickly incorporated this flavoring technique into my cooking. Numerous bowls of soup later, my boyfriend has requested a hiatus from dill.


A light stock is essential. Otherwise, you will lose the flavor and texture of the fish, and perhaps overpower the dill. I begin with onions, garlic, and carrot sauteed in olive oil. I don't want to brown the veggies too much. I use both chicken broth and water. You can use all water, if you prefer, but I like the heartiness of the chicken broth. It gives the soup a bit more substance. I advise against using only chicken broth, as it creates an overly salty soup and disturbs the flavor.

There's nothing quite like sitting down to a nice bowl of warm soup. As my glasses steam up, I'm struck by the bright fragrance of dill. The fish is moist and easily flakes against the sharp tines of my fork. A piece of hand-torn day old bread quickly soaks up any remaining juice, melting into a soft delicious mush.


Fish Soup

1 large Tilapia filet, roughly 1 lb
1 yellow pepper, sliced
2 cloves garlic
1/2 small onion, chopping
2 carrots, diced
2 scallions, chopped
1/2 cup, chopped dill
1/4 cup, chopped parsley
1 1/2 cup chicken broth
1 cup water

Prepare vegetables in roughly equal size pieces. Heat a large Dutch oven over medium high heat. Gently saute yellow pepper, onion, carrots, and garlic in olive oil until onions become translucent. Pour in chicken stock, water, and a bit of salt. Cover and let simmer over medium low heat until the carrots are tender, about 15 minutes. Cut the fish fillet into large chunks. Add to hot soup and poach until just cooked through, 8 - 10 minutes. Toss in fresh herbs and scallions. Cook for 2 minutes. Taste for salt. Ladle into large bowls and serve with crusty bread.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Carrot Soup

Dear Devon,

Growing up in San Francisco, I was not a big soup drinker. Moving to LA didn't change that. But somehow, cold weather changes everything. Now that I live in New York and spend seven months in a scarf and gloves, soup makes sense. Over the years, I have developed a number of soups to fit my lifestyle. I have quick impromptu soups, when I find myself making soup almost without intending to; then there are the soups that I prepare in advance and save for later, sometimes in the form of a concentrated base. When I am ready to eat, I pour the concentrate into a pot, add water or stock, heat, and eat.

Making a smooth and light carrot soup is tricky. If it is too smooth, the texture comes off more like baby food than a soup for adults with a full set of teeth. Another pitfall is the stick-to-your-ribs, hearty lumberjack soup. This happens when you don't blend long enough or add enough liquid. I still struggle with this step and live in fear of burning out my blender.

I always purchase carrots with the greens still attached. It's the best way to insure the maximum freshness. Choose bright orange and blemish free carrots with vibrant green leaves. Freakish shapes are fine. It doesn't affect the taste, and once they've been pureed, no one will know. I find the funny shapes charming. I also love the crisp, fresh smell released when I chopping off their stems. That alone is enough to make me purchase carrots with their greens every time.
For this soup, carrots are the star, but I sneak in a couple of important supporting actors. Fennel, if you haven't already discovered it, is amazing. Some people dislike the dark, licorice or anise-like taste of fennel, while others can't stop munching on it. Eaten raw, it makes for a refreshing salad or snack, but I prefer fennel roasted. The flavors are calmer and less intense. Fennel balances the sweetness of carrots. Barely noticeable in the soup, it is more of an interesting background flavor. For this soup, roasting the carrots and fennel brings out the most flavor. Sunflower seeds, nutmeg, and cumin give the soup an earthy quality and a bit of spice.

How much to dilute the soup depends on how thick you like it. It's not an exact science. For reference, in this recipe, I used three cups of water for an entire batch. I did not make concentrate this time.

I like to top the soup with a small handful of arugula to add some freshness. If you are feeling decadent, finish the soup with a drizzle of cream or chopped walnuts. Serve with crusty bread, perfect for mopping up soup sloshed on the sides of the bowl. I made a wonderful parsley and garlic goat cheese spread. No recipe- just softened goat cheese, parsley, a few cloves of raw garlic, and coarse salt. It tasted unbelievable.


Carrot soup, not just for babies and lumberjacks, but New Yorkers too.


Carrot Soup
serves 6 as a main course, 8 as an appetizer

2 bunches of carrots
1 bulb of fennel
2 cloves of garlic
1 1-inch nub of ginger, skinned and chopped
1/2 onion, diced
1/2 tsp fennel seed
1/2 tsp cumin
3 tsp sunflower seeds
1 sprig of rosemary
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp salt
1/8 tsp nutmeg
3 cups of water

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Peel and chop carrots into 2-inch long pieces. Remove the upper fronds and base of the fennel. Halve the fennel and slice into 1/2-inch thick slices. Cut the ends off two cloves of garlic. Crush with the flat side of a knife, do not remove the papery skin. Place chopped carrots, fennel, and crushed garlic on a foil-lined baking sheet. Toss the veggies with 1 tbsp olive oil, salt, and pepper. Roast in the oven until the carrots can be easily pierced by the tip of a knife, roughly 30-35 minutes. Cool about 10 minutes.

In a large Dutch oven, heat 1 tbsp of oil over moderate heat. Add one sprig of rosemary. Cook until the oil is fragrant. Add chopped onion and ginger. Saute until the onions are translucent, 5 minutes. Add sunflower seeds, cumin, and fennel seeds and gently toast. Remove rosemary. Set aside.

Working in batches, place the cooled veggies into a blender along with sauteed onion mixture. Pour in one cup of water. Puree until smooth. Return the pureed mix to the Dutch oven. I managed to puree everything in two batches, using one cup of water per batch. In its pureed form, the soup is powerful and thick. At this point, I reserve some of the puree in glass jars and set aside for future use. Pour one additional cup of water into the Dutch oven. Add 1 tsp salt and nutmeg. Bring to a gentle boil, just to heat through.

Serve with a small handful of arugula and black pepper.