Toast

Summer Soup: The Rules

Why might a person love to make lists, rules, and lists of rules? Bossy boots? Obsessive tidiness (no, can't be that); control freak? Well, who cares, really? It's a good game.

What do you need for a well stocked pantry? If you could only have 10 foods on your desert island, what would you chose? Which five kitchen tools are absolutely essential? Whoa- lists of lists? It's a form of entertainment. And where, as here, no one has to follow the rules, it can't hurt, except insofar as wasted time can be construed as damage.

It won't be me doing the construing. As far as I'm concerned, time pleasantly wasted is time well spent. If you wish to join me in this diversion, I invite you to add to these rules, or vote against them, via comment. This is what the rules are about today:

Many people are averse to the consumption of hot soup in hot weather. I eat soup all year round, and find that hot soup, like hot tea, can, in fact, be cooling. Nonetheless, when a summer soup is going to be the meal, there may be a dilemma. Because though hot soup can be refreshing in the heat of August, few fancy a weighty goulash, a crusty french onion gratinee, or chicken and dumplings.

On the other hand, unless you are a fragile Victorian female laced so tightly into your corset that you can barely lift your head from the fainting couch, a delicate clear boullion does not make a meal. Hence- my rules (deduced after much trial and error) for making a hot summer soup that while not too heavy, makes a satisfying supper. (These rules do not apply to cold soups, which are another, uh... kettle of fish.) The soup in the photo is an example that does the trick for me. I'll tell you what's in this one, but the general idea is that the rules make a sort of master recipe, from which you can assemble your own mix:

1. Use a very rich, preferably home made broth for your base. For the most part, creamy soups, if not chilled, are less summery. If you think your broth is a bit weak, cook it down. (This is a good reason for barely salting your broth when you make it.) A reduced broth, with a bit of a gelatinous quality is invigorating without being heavy. It can feel as if it is going right to your finger tips. Which is why we give it to sick people, I suppose.

2. Use a variety of seasonal vegetables, sliced fairly thinly. Some good ones are carrots, yellow and orange; summer squash (not too much, as they can be soggy); edame; snap peas; mushrooms, scallions; asparagus. Just before serving, toss in a handful of leafy greens to wilt. The vegetables should be cooked until soft, but not mushy. It is nice, though , of course unnecessary, to go for pretty shapes.

3.Pick one or two fresh herbs, and make the soup really aromatic: Use some when you are heating the broth, save some more, finely chopped or chiffonade to toss in just before serving.

4. Add a dumpling, noodles, and/or thin slices of meat, fish or poultry- but avoid chunkiness. Good choices include shrimp sliced in half lengthwise (they curl attractively as they cook), ramen or bean thread type noodles, and especially, little asian-style dumplings. These are easy to make with prepared wonton or dumpling wrappers, which are lovely and thin and slippery when cooked. You can make these in about 10 minutes, freeze them on parchment-lined cookie sheets, and bag them for future soup and other uses. Here is one excellent recipe. If you are feeling lazy, you can buy some very nice ready made frozen ones.

5.Just before serving, along with the herbs and leafy greens, add a bit of fresh lime juice, lemon juice, or rice wine vinegar to brighten up the flavors. I like some freshly ground pepper there too.

And that is all.

The pictured variation is a rich turkey broth, cooked up and simmered with a chunk of ginger and smashed lemongrass, fresh cilantro, and Thai basil. Veggies are carrots, squash, scallions, edame, and baby spinach. There are a few split shrimps and some broken ramen noodles (just a bit), as well as the shrimp dumplings in the linked recipe. It was finished with chopped Thai basil and cilantro and some rice wine vinegar. But that's just one example.

A Spin or Two on a Seasonal Favorite

If you do not live in California or some such all-season growing area, chances are you are still waiting for your local produce to show up. One of the very earliest local goodies to appear around here is spinach. Like that salt-of-the-earth old salt , Popeye, I just loves my spinach.* And the tender baby leaves are so delicious uncooked, that a spinach salad is the first thing that comes to mind when it arrives. I have an old favorite, but I decided to try a couple of new things this year.

One is a spinach and pear salad using the rest of my duck confit. (I haven't forgotten about the duck breasts and the duck soup I promised. Consider this post a semi-related interlude.) The other is an idea I got from reading Karin Welzel's article in the Tribune Review**, about Cafe Zao, a local restaurant I have yet to visit-despite the fact that it is located only a couple of blocks from my workplace, and next door to the Public Theater. As you might guess, this has been mostly a cost issue.

After reading about the place, I've concluded that I need to save up for dinner at Cafe Zao. In the interim, though, I thought would try Chef Toni Pais' recipe for Cold Spinach Soup and Shellfish Salad, which you can find with Karin's article. I was so very not disappointed. Wow. As she points out, the soup can also be used, hot or cold, as a sauce for fish or poultry. Surprisingly, large quantities of pine nuts are involved, and the effect is brilliant. It's so intense, and fresh tasting- really amazing stuff. The seafood salad is also pretty special, and I found that it was well worth looking for the ponzu- a citrus-y vinegar.
It did take me some time to find it- the Lotus Market here is enormous- and not all the sauces have English labels. The ponzu didn't have one, but there was an ingredients list on the back, and it said "Ponzu" on top.

I made the soup according to instructions, but my seafood salad was a shrimp-only affair. Also, I did not do the fancy business with the PVC pipe rings, but put the shrimp salad in a little dish centered in the soup bowl instead. Another serving option might be an ice-cream scoop of the salad in the center of your dish, and the cold soup poured carefully around it. That's how I plate up rice with an estoufee or gumbo, and it works pretty well.

Here is the recipe for the spinach salad. I used toasted walnuts, as well as substituting the confit for the bacon. It was yummy.

I have an attraction to dark green vegetables that is so intense that I suspect it is based in some nutritional deficiency. I made a special bus trip to Whole Foods for dinosaur kale on a snowy day this winter, only to discover they were out of it. I nearly cried. Surely this is not normal? I can tell you that the produce guy looked at me with something between pity and fear when I, uh, ...expressed my dismay.

BTW, if you use the google search function in the left hand column, and search the blog for "spinach", there are few other nice things you might want to try.

____________________

*I was surprised to discover, reading up on the original Popeye comics, that in the days before animation, our man Popeye did not have a spinach habit at all. He was just, well, cranky and violent and not-so-brilliant- in the nicest possible way, of course. He had a generous heart and was always, naturally, devoted to the lovely Ms. Oyl. I highly recommend these early cartoons, they are fascinatin', as he might put it. If he, say, had a blog. Or could read and write. Or was, you know, real. But, as always, I digress.

**I don't subscribe to, the Tribune Review, one of our two local papers. Thus, I was unaware of its really nice food section, which, fortunately for me, can be read on the internet. I met Karin Welzel when she emailed me to talk about peas, and I've been catching up on past articles ever since.

Panade in a Bean Pot, But I Digress

My lovely brand new imac is all hooked up. I can't take any new photos though, because the memory card I got for my also lovely and brand new (and blue!) splendid Christmas present camera is The Wrong One, as the very verbal camera itself informed me, when I installed it. Ooops. While I wait for the replacement card, and nurse a New Year's headache (not caused by any reveling, purely random), I decided to try making something soothing in my nice old beanpot. You've seen it before, but it's been a while. So you're seeing it again. Not as pretty as the new blue camera, but a sweet pot.

I thought it would be good for the panade, which is based on a Paula Wolfert recipe from some years back-( I forget which book), which called for a "deep earthenware casserole." Narrow and deep it is, compared to the average baking dish. And it has homely qualities suitable to the panade.

Some baked bean purists believe that it is detrimental to the development of an heirloom beanpot to cook anything else in it. They theorize (I'm not making this up, but I can't cite a sourse- maybe John Thorne?) that the pot makes better beans the longer it has been in use as a beanpot, rather like those special Chinese clay teapots which you are supposed to use with only one kind of tea, because they absorb the flavors of the fine teas, and send 'em right back atcha.

As I get older, and my cupboards get more crowded, I subscribe more and more to the theory propounded by Alton Brown, to wit: An object which has only one use has to be pretty damn special indeed. So even though I have one of those teapots, I make any kind of tea I like in it, assuming that any echoes of teas past will just make things a bit more interesting. I don't, you know, simmer sardines in it or anything too off-track. Likewise, I figure that anything a person might eat with beans won't ruin the beanpot either.

Considering all the holiday eating around here, it's amazing that I'm hungry at all. But after all the delicious holiday goodies, sweet and rich, I was hankering for something warm and plain. I cannot claim that it is particularly healthy- it is basically something between a thick bread and cheese soup and a silky savory bread pudding. It's not like I was eating a strict green salad, or something improving of that sort, to make up for recent indulgences. But it is plain and sturdy and hit the spot with me and my sore head.

Also, in its favor-unlike many a Paula Wolfert spectacular, this one does not require special ingredients, or a million steps. It does, however take a bit of time. But that's okay, because my other plans for the day involve sitting around and reading. So, for supper, this is what I made, in my 2 qt beanpot:

If you want to make it you will need:

2 small leeks
an onion, chopped
5 sliced garlic cloves
olive oil
salt
pepper
fresh lemon juice
1 quart of 1 inch cubes of dried crusty bread, dry them in a warm oven if they are not a bit stale
a 5 oz. package of baby arugula and a head of romaine lettuce, shredded- about 5 cups altogether, you can substitute another combo of greens, but remove any tough stalks
grated nutmeg
2 cups of milk, heated to almost boiling in the microwave, or otherwise
1/4 lb finely grated gruyere

Preheat oven to 250F. Heat some olive oil in a heavy big pot, and cook the leeks, onions, and garlic until they are well wilted, over a medium heat. Add the greens, salt, pepper, and nutmeg, cover, and cook over a very low heat for 30-45 minutes. Squeeze some lemon juice over all. Oil a 2 qt, deep baking dish. Put a third of the bread in, then 1/2 of the greens, another third of the bread, the rest of the greens, and the last of the bread. Heat the milk, and pour it slowly over all. Spread the cheese on top, cover with a pot lid, foil or both, and cook for 2 hours. Remove cover, turn oven up high, and cook for 15 more minutes. Let it sit 20 minutes before serving, and it will set nicely, plus, your lips won't be melted off.

After this, you will be wanting a piece of fruit, I suspect. I was given a great big fancy pear from someone's nice gift box, so I'm having that. Happy New Year!

Soup Buttons

I haven't forgotten about my compulsive kitchen-list making. It's just that I found a little something I wanted to tell you about.

If you are a person who serves soup often, you may, from time to time, want something different from the usual nice crusty loaf to have with it. These little cuties, made from a Jacques Pepin recipe could be just what you are looking for. They seem to go well with all kinds of soup, from a delicate broth to a hearty chowder, and can be as rustic or dressy as you like. They are very tasty hot, or you can let them cool off, and they are good that way, too. Also, they're very buttery, so you don't need to serve any extra butter with them. Unless you want to, of course. And they are very simple to do.

Preheat your oven to 425F, and butter a mini muffin tin. In a large Pyrex cup, put a half cup finely chopped leeks and 4 Tbsps. of butter. Nuke them until the butter melts, and add 1/2 cup of cold milk. When the mixture reaches room temperature, with a fork, beat in an egg, 1/2 tsp salt and a tsp of sugar. Then mix in 1/2 cup AP flour, followed by 1/2 cup oatmeal flakes, and a tsp of baking powder. Fill 12 mini cups, and bake for 10 minutes. Turn out onto a clean surface, and serve hot, or let them cool down.

These are also nice for breakfast, with your eggs, should any be left over. They are dandy in bag lunches, too.

Lemongrass Cure

I had me a dose of some kind of evil stomachbug this week. It was only really nasty for about 36 hours, but it had a lead-in of queasy, and is still having residuals by way of fatique and beat-up achiness. (Aren't you glad you stopped by for the whining?) In the winter, a traditional chicken noodle or mazoh-ball soup would have been the way to go for restorative dining, once the worst was over, but in the middle of a heat wave, that is a bit less appealing. As you know, I am a champion of hot soup for hot days; it's only that a different kind of hot soup seems in order.

My ideal curative hot soup for summer illness (fantastic for colds) is the atypical wonton soup at Tram's, my friendly local Vietnamese restaurant of choice. It is available in a large size which is more than enough for a full dinner, and it features bundle-shaped wontons, plus a serious wallop of lemongrass. I swear that no sinus infection can survive it- and it is delicious, which is not something you can say about your average nasal spray. Indeed, I often order some when I am feeling dandy. The thing is, you have to go out to get it, which you may not always wish to do when you are feeling punk, and looking like the cat recently dragged you in.

One cool thing about lemongrass, is that you get a lemony (though distinctively different) flavor without the citrus juice. This is particularly handy for a cold plus stomachache situation, when a person might long for lemon, cold-wise, but be wary of the intestinal effects of a lovely glass of, say, lemonade. If I haven't totally killed any vestige of your appetite by now, I'm going to tell you about my beware-of-trying-this-at-home version. It's not so bad, though a bit different. For one thing, at Tram's the soup is not in any way chartreuse.

I was inspired to try this when having a sandwich supper in my friends' backyard, after a draggy tired day at work, playing with the beautiful baby we all adore, and guzzling cold gingerale. I am lucky indeed to have such excellent friends, for whom you do not need to spiff up. I'm sure I could have gone in my pajamas, and while they would have made endless fun of me, they also would not have minded. And they could do the same at my house. Life is good.

In my friends' compact, but highly productive vegetable garden, there is an herb patch which is thriving like crazy, containing an out of control, huge lemongrass area. I was encouraged to raid it, and did. After supper we all went to Brewsters , where I abandoned all efforts to moderate my food, and consumed a huge coffee ice cream in a waffle cone (labeled "small"!) I had dragged a giant braided clump of lemongrass along with me, and then home- so I'm in good supply. Nothing seems to have recurred, tummy-wise- despite the ice cream-so that's good. I'm still kind of wiped-out though. I thought I'd try some self-pampering and made this soup today.

I had some wonton wrappers and homemade stock in the freezer, and I do think a good stock is important for this sort of thing. I took the wrappers out to defrost, and warmed the stock. This is what you need:

2-3 quarts of well flavored stock (I used turkey stock)
2 turkey thighs or several chicken thighs
lemongrass stalks 2
cabbage leaves 8-10, half of them shredded
lettuce leaves- a few, torn
garlic cloves-2
fresh ginger- two knobs
sesame oil-a drizzle
soy sauce, likewise
15 wonton wrappers
scallions or chives
zucchini- one half medium- cut thinly as you like, with mandoline or otherwise
yellow squash 1/2 medium-cut likewise
fresh cilantro- a few sprig
salt
pepper

Wontons

I did not make tiny bundle style wontons ala Tram's (I don't do them at all well), but rather my kindergarten wontons-the technique for which is identical to my kindergarten raviolis- though fillings may be varied at will. Into the food processor put about one third of the turkey meat, cut in cubes, the garlic, one knob of the ginger, half the cabbage leaves, the inner core of a lemongrass stalk, chopped very finely- about 1/2 tsp, a splash of soy, and a drop of the sesame oil. Pulse this until it pasty, and use it to fill the wontons as follows:

Arrange pile of wonton wrappers, a little cup of water, and the filling on a flat surface. Line a tray with parchment paper. On the flat surface, set one noodle square, and plop a ball of filling, about 3/4 tsp in volume, in the center of it. Dip a second wrapper in the cup of water, and set it on top of the first. Pick it up and press them together, eliminating any pockets of air , and tucking the noodle neatly around the filling. Set on tray. Repeat until everything is used up.* Set tray in freezer. When firm and dry, turn each wonton over carefully, so they do not stick, and the 2nd side can dry. You can dust the paper with cornstarch ahead of time to prevent sticking, but I find the parchment release action is sufficient. Leave those babies in the freezer until ready to cook- or- when they are very solid- bag them and keep frozen for future festivities.

Lemongrass Wonton Soup

Put the stock into a soup pot and add the rest of your turkey or chicken, the rest of the lemongrass, a clove of garlic, and the other bit of ginger. Bring to a boil, skim, then simmer until the meat is done, enjoying the aromas, and possibly leaning over the pot from time to time, inhaling. With a slotted spoon, fish out the turkey, garlic, lemongrass and ginger. Discard, except for turkey, and, of course, the soup. Remove the meat from the bone, shred it, and return a bit of it to the pot, saving the rest for something nice tomorrow. add the squash, shredded cabbage, and lettuce, and bring to a boil. Adjust for salt, and add a generous bit of pepper, which interacts nicely with the lemongrassiness. Add the wontons, and bring back to a boil. Simmer until you are sure the filling is cooked through, sprinkle with cilantro, and consume.

I used to have a lovely deep blue and white patterned bowl, with a celadon exterior, and a matching porcelain spoon. This was the perfect vessel for such things, but it bit the dust in a Frightened and Frenzied Cat Incident- so here is my soup, all alone. It made me feel very unsorry for myself, well steamed, and relaxed.

*Yes, I do realize these things never come out even...it will probably be close, though.

Thrice-wise June Pea Soup

If you know me, you know I eat soup year-round. Though it is pretty hot here in Pittsburgh today, I wanted some soup for supper last night, and this is what I made. If you don't have soup permanently brain-encoded as winter food, I think you will find the shades of green and brown flavors summery, though not in an icy, light as-a-feather-y sort of way. I continue to lobby for eating hot soup in hot weather; my family has always done so, and I think it's a tactic worth trying- also, hot tea, which I swear cools me off. That being said, this particular soup is also very nice chilled.

It is a variation on a Deborah Madison recipe, and works quite well, I think. Entirely vegetarian, it gains its depth of flavor from the three kinds of peas used, split green peas, English peas, and sugar snaps, and from the smoked paprika. It is nice with fried croutons for a garnish. If you aren't (I'm not) a vegetarian, it is also pretty good with some crispy diced pancetta on top instead. The chilled version goes well with thinly sliced lemon and a few fronds from the fennel, if you've got them

I used frozen baby English peas, rather than fresh ones. Fresh ones are not so available here, and so a bit of a rare treat. If I get some (our CSA farmer holds out some hope for next week), I will fix them simply, so I can really taste them. But if you've got fresh peas coming out of your ears (figuratively)*, you might want to use them instead of the frozen.

You will need:
1 cup dried green split peas
1 tbsp butter
2 Tbsps olive oil
2 tbsps chopped parsley
1 tbsp chopped fresh rosemary
1 yellow onion, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
1/2 cup chopped fennel bulb
2 cloves garlic
smoked Spanish paprika 1/2 tsp
salt
zest and juice of a lemon
2 cups sugar snap peas
1 cup english peas
a bit more rosemary, chopped finely
1/2 cup cream

Cover the split peas with hot water, and let them sit while you brown the veggies and herbs. Heat the olive oil and butter in a heavy pot, and, over a medium heat, cook everything through the fennel for about 15 minutes, untl dark golden brown nd soft. Add the garlic and Spanish paprika, 6 cups of water, and the split peas and salt. Cook over a medium heat, just burbling, for half an hour. Add the sugar snaps, and continue to cook for another half hour. Add the English peas, and puree thoroughly. An immersion blender is ideal for this task, but you can use a chinois or foodmill, too. Stir in cream and lemon zest- then season to taste with more rosemary and/or paprika, lemon juice, and/or salt, as you like. Reheat, or chill as you like, garnish, and consume.

I had this with sandwiches of shrimp spread on thin slices of wheat toast.More about that shrimp spread to follow. Nice supper.

*If fresh peas are coming out of your ears literally, I would not presume to advise.

Asian Flavors Asparagus Soup

I am a bit surprised that I've been quite so off my game since my mother died on the fifth. Naturally, I'm upset, but I've been so damned inefficient and goofy, too. I have been deeply grieved before, but, I guess not so surprised- time to prepare makes a huge difference. In any case, I've been muddled, and going with the flow by not challenging myself too much. So you see, it isn't that I have stopped cooking-I cook for comfort, and it works. But I'm cooking familiar things, nothing I haven't already posted about before. And anyhow, when I start to write things down, I get all tangled up.

This is the first remotely new thing I've made for a while, and it was a success. It is yet another asparagus soup- an adaptation of a Deborah Madison recipe. It is a bit special, both because it is entirely vegetarian and because it is a rather different take on a popular sort of thing, coming nicely (to me) at the end of a season of asparagus indulgence. I think it is makes excellent first course to a meal of diversely asian flavors, though I have also been enjoying on its own, for lunch. Deborah Madison is very good at getting complex layers of flavor in meatless soups; I've learned a lot from her techniques.

This is what you need:

2 lbs asparagus
2 bunches scallions
handful of cilantro
a bay leaf
some thyme
a handful of parsley
a peeled medium potato, sliced very thinly
a lime
butter- 1/4 stick
toasted sesame seeds
asian-style sesame oil
sea salt and pepper

Cut the tips off the aparagus and set aside. Snap the bottoms off the asparagus, and put them in a soup pot. Cut the greens from the scallions, and the stems from the cilantro, and put thestems and greens in the pot as well. Add the thyme, parsley and bay leaf, and a quart and a half of water, plus salt and pepper. Bring this stock to a boil, and then turn to a bold simmer- for about half an hour. Finely chop the cilantro leaves, and set aside.

Meanwhile, chop the white part of the scallions and the middles of the asparagus, into pieces about half an inch long, and put them in another soup pot with the potato, butter, salt and pepper. Cook these gently in the butter until they begin to soften. Turn off the pot, and let it sit. In a small pan, cook the asparagus tips in a bit of salted water about 4-5 minutes. Cool them by running cold tap water over them; drain and save.

When the broth is ready, pour it through a strainer over the buttery veg, and discard the solids from the broth. Bring the soup and veg to a boil, then simmer another 15 minutes. Wash out your first soup pot, and place a fine strainer or chinois over it. When the soup is done, puree it thoroughly, preferably with an immersion blender. Then, pour it through the chinois into the clean pot. Add the cooked asparagus tips, and heat until desired temp. As you serve each bowl, stir in a few drops of the oil, and sprinkle with the chopped cilantro and a few sesame seeds.Pass a wedge of lime to squirt on top.

My sesame seeds sunk inexplicably-perhaps as a result of carrying the soup onto the porch to take its photo. If I have been scatty and left something out...listed an ingredient and failed to mention adding it, or the like, I would not be at all surprised. Please let me know if I have. I apparently did not actually leave anything out, as the soup was pretty good.

A Winter Broth with Frills, and a Silly, Pointless Contest

Before I start with the food talk-here is the story on my silly contest : Recently, I posted the 1900th comment on Toast- myself. This seemed kind of a nice round number. The person who posts the 2000th comment (an even nicer, rounder number), and provides his/her email address along with, will receive a nice new, unread (I have my own) hardcover copy of Modern Moroccan by Gillie Basan. If it's me, or recognizable spam, the 2001st will win. Unlike your normal contest, friends and relations are eligible. However, you can expect no special help from me, guys. My 1900th is the long one with the link, on the truffled egg post, if you are counting. I'll email the winner for your address to post it. I do love to get those comments.

Now then, on to the soup:

It's good to have some veal bones when you make broth, especially in the winter. They add so much body and boost the fortification quotient. I can seldom get enough veal bones to make a whole batch with them, but that's okay, because I really think the broth tastes better with some turkey parts added as well. I buy veal bones whenever I see a packet at the supermarket- not osso buco- now very expensive, but the much cheaper neck bones. I put them in the freezer , and when I have enough, a buy a turkey wing or two, and go to town. I love the flavor of turkey in broth.

What with the weather, and other factors, I haven't been able to do any serious food shopping for a couple of weeks, so I was glad to find a sufficiency of veal bone and a few turkey parts in the freezer. I've been putting together meals on a "what's in the house" basis, and I'm kind of pleased with this one, made with part of the broth. I had a semi-squished package of wonton wrappers, some ground turkey, and some vacuum packed baby spinach-which had to be used soon, and was no longer looking quite new enough for salad. Also a bit of nearly fresh dill.

I made some highly seasoned turkey ravioli (or kreplach, or wonton or whatever)- pretty large-2 wonton wrappers each, cut and tore the wrinkled, defective wrappers into rags and ribbons, and tossed them with some cornstarch. (That keeps them from going wodgey.) That's it, pretty much, with a few butter- wilted leek slices, and dill and spinach floating in the broth alongside. It would have been nice to have some different fresh herbs-maybe tarragon-I'd have added them if I had them. If you'd like some soup, too, you can make it easily, possibly without going to the store, if your pantry basics resemble mine.

Here's what you do:

Winter Broth
baby spinach
a leek, white parts, well washed, sliced in half-moons, and wilted in butter
turkey raviolis
raggy noodles made from cutting wonton wrappers (optional)
fresh dill, snipped

Bring Winter broth to a boil in a 5 quart pot. Slide in the ravis, and cook until the turkey is done through- about 10 minutes- test one. Add remaining ingredients, except dill. Cook 1 minute. Add dill. Serve.

Winter Broth (or use a good quality boxed broth)
6 pounds bones-mixed veal neck bones with meat still on and turkey parts or bones, leftover poultry carcasses, etc.
A leek, well washed
2 onions
carrots
fennel stalks
parsley stems
sea salt
pepper

Put all ingredients in an 8 quart pasta pot, strainer inside. Cover with water. Bring to a boil, drain, rinse with cold water. Make sure to wash off as much of the "impurities" -icky foamy stuff- as possible. This greatly decreases skimming time later. Refill, bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and let it barely burble on until it is delicious..at least 3 hours, probably more. Skim off foam rising to the top, from time to time. When it's done, take the works over to the sink, pull out the pasta basket, leaving the plain broth behind. Skim off anything dubious on top of the remaining broth. I like to reduce it a wee bit further, then divide into freezable containers, cool, and freeze or refrigerate.

Turkey Raviolis
Store bought wonton wrappers
ground turkey
french 4 spice powder, or other suitable seasoningin cluding some nutmeg and/or ginger
sea salt
pepper

Mix everything but the wrappers together. Season fairly generously, there is just a wee bit of meat in each wonton, and lots of floopy, bland noodle. Keep noodle wrappers in a covered pile, next to a little bowl of water and the turkey mix. Line a cookie sheet with parchment. Set a wrapper square on a clear surface, and put a flattened tablespoon of turkey in the middle. Dip your fingers in the bowl of water and dampen the edges of the wrapper. Set another wrapper on top and seal with your fingers, flatteningf the whole noodle area, so there are no air bubbles, and only the filling is a lump. Set on the cookie sheet.

Repeat, until you've used up all your wrappers or filling. If there are wrappers left, tear into raggedy noodles. If filling, make tiny meatballs. If you are not making soup today, you can freeze these guys on their cookie sheet, and when they are stiff, transfer to a freezer bag. cook frozen ravis 2-4 minutes longer than fresh.

This is a nice warming supper, especially for a person with, say, a sore shoulder from scraping ice off steps and/or a cold.

Melting Pot Soup

It won't melt the stock pot. Nor is it Consomme Marijuana, the recipe for which can be found, if this more prosaic soup disappoints, in Jeremiah Tower's California Dish. I refer instead, to the ethnic jumble which is my cooking inheritance and probably yours too, to some extent, since you have internet access, and are unlikely to live in an isolated culinary community. I guess it is a kind of yunzer* fusion cooking, being essentially an Italian Wedding Soup, crossed with Matzoh Ball Soup.

I make this pretty regularly, usually in quantities of A Whole Lot, because it keeps and freezes well, and is good for taking to work and heating in a microwave for lunch. It is also possible to make it seem quite fancy, by serving it in small bowls, prior to a celebratory dinner. Personally, I enjoy consuming it from a deep bowl, on my afghan covered lap, in a comfortable chair, while reading. (Though I live alone, I generally eat at a set table, even when I don't have company, and I like to do that. But the one bowl supper in a chair thing..it's a nice indulgence.)

It is pretty important to have a rich homemade stock/broth for this. I like turkey or duck stock best, but a chicken stock is fine, too. If you have some of the bird left over from the stock making, it is nice to cut up a little and add it. This is not essential, however.

Adjust the quantities according to the amount of broth you have. You need:

turkey or chicken broth
tiny turkey matzoh balls
thinly sliced carrots
thinly sliced fennel
thinly sliced scallions
several handsful of toasted farfel (or substitute pastinas or orzos)
several handsful of escarole, chard leaves or lacinato kale, cut in thin ribbons
chopped fresh parsley

Bring broth to a boil. Turn down to simmer, and add everything but the greens and a few of the scallions. Cover and cook 20-25 minutes, until the farfel and matzoh balls are done. Uncover, and add the greens and remaining scallions. Cook until just wilted, sprinkle with parsley,and serve with lemon wedges to spritz over, if you like. The tasty little matzoh balls add a lot of flavor poaching in the broth, and it is important to include plenty of the nutmeg and tarragon to them for this effect. The broth will be subtle and the little dumplings, highly flavored.

I have been known to float a few rehydrated dried shitake caps in this jumble, to really melt my pot. When I do, I put them in with the matzoh balls to let them plump up further.

Tiny Turkey Matzoh Balls:
Mix about 1/4 lb of ground turkey and 1/4 cup of mazoh meal with a pinch of nutmeg, chopped tarragon, salt and plenty of pepper, a tbsp of the broth , and enough beaten egg to make a pasty consistency. Chill for half an hour in fridge or freezer. Form into tiny little marble sized balls, and set on a plate or sheet of waxed paper.

note: If you do not have the ground turkey, you can just make tiny mazoh balls instead, seasoned as above. The turkey adds a real flavor boost, though. You can make the soup even more flavorful if you cook the veg slowly in some butter, before adding them to the stock. But it is also good if you don't bother with that.

*"Yunzer" is a Pittburghese expression, meaning, essentially "of Pittsburgh, without regard for embarassing one's friends and/or relations"; antonym: yuppie; From: "yunz" 2nd pers. sing or plural:, i.e. "yunz goan dahn na Gianiggle an'at?" Trans: "Are you going down to the Giant Eagle, and that?" The "and that" , pronounced "an'at", may be added to the end of any sentence, rather like the Canadian "eh?" This is such a common usage, that you can get one of those ovoid car stickers, to indicate nationality, that reads "an@", to show the driver is from Pittsburgh. I learned about the stickers at a blog on the Pittsburgh Opera website. It was not until I first heard my own recorded speaking voice some years ago, that I realized, with mingled horror and perverse pride, that I kind of have some yunzer qualities myself.

Winter Squash and Apple Soup with Radicchio

This week was our penultimate farmbox of 2006. Considering the usual fall climate here in western PA, I think it was a remarkable assortment of goodies. A red cabbage, raddicchio, radishes, spinach, dill, a green pepper, potatoes, baby fennels, butternut squash, kale, spinach, lettuce, apple butter and cider. This soup is just another of the many butternut squash soups a person can make-either off the top of his/her head, or, in this case, combining 2 Deborah Madison recipes, from her new cookbook. The slim new paperback is called Vegetable Soups from Deborah Madison's Kitchen. It is chock full of wonderful soups from the brilliant, imaginative and mostly vegetarian Ms. Madison.

This soup combines butternut squash and apples, roasted, with sauteed onions a bit of garlic and some broth. I used homemade chicken broth, because I had it, but it would be fine with the original vegetable broth, or water, for that matter.The soup is pureed, and garnished with bits of grilled raddicchio, an inspired idea. Wish I'd thought of it, but I do get to eat it, after all. I'm a sucker for grilled veg as well as for bitter greens (or, in this case, bitter purples). The creamy roasted sweetness of the vegetable puree is set off perfectly by the puckery bitter/sour garnish. A swirl of greek yogurt, or sour cream..and it's pretty, too.

There are so many wonderful winter squash recipes on the web and elsewhere, that it is hard for me to realize that 15 years ago, I viewed winter squash as a boring vegetable. It's amazingly versatile and delicious. I'm contemplating buying a bushel from my CSA farmer, for winter use. I'm just not sure my storage conditions are good enough. In any event, this is how you make this particular soup. No doubt you will be inventing your own winter squash masterpiece some time soon.

There are probably as many people making gorgeous orange or mustard coloured winter squash soups and gratins at the moment as there have been making the Sullivan Street no-knead bread from the New York Times. Maybe even more. Because it is the height of the season, and it is so very good.

You need:

A butternut squash or other winter squash, about 2 lbs.
cooking apples, peeled 2
pear, not too ripe one
peeled fresh ginger, about 1 1/2" cube, sliced thin
broth or water
salt
pepper
onion, one thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, chopped
small head raddicchio, cut in wedges
olive oil
red wine vinegar

Preheat oven to 425F. Cut the squash in half, and remove seeds. (Seeds can be roasted with a little oil and some smoked paprika and salt, and used to garnish.This is really good. I was lazy and didn't do it. I am experiencing regret.) Cut each half in 3 pieces, and cut the apples and pear in chunks, removing pits and stems. Spray a baking sheet with oil, and lay the squash, fruit and ginger on in a single layer. Spray with more olive oil, all over, and salt and pepper it all. Bake until very soft- it will take about an hour, possibly more.

Cool slightly, and then remove and discard all of the squash skin. Cook the sliced onion in some olive oil, in your soup pot, until just it's starting to brown, then add the roasted stuff , making sure to include all carmelized bits. Deglaze the pan with broth, and pour over contents of soup pot. Add enough more broth, or water, to cover the veg by 2", along with the chopped garlic. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cook for half an hour or so. Blend with a stick blender, leaving a bit of texture, if you like. Taste for seasoning. Add broth if too thick, or cook down if too thin.

Heat a cast iron skillet or grill pan, spraying or rubbing with a tiny bit of oil, and brown the raddicchio wedges on both sides. Sprinkle them with salt and some droplets of red wine or sherry vinegar. When cool, chop them into squares. Serve the soup with a bit of sour cream or thick yogurt swirled in, and the raddicchio on top. Purple and orange. Mine's got a few fennel fronds , parsley might be better.