Soup of Fresh Shelling Beans and Sorrel

Is it Monday? I’m pretty sure it’s Monday. The last two weeks have been a blur of sniffles, tissues, and gallons (I mean it) of chai. I came down with a cold just around the start of the month. Chalk it up to a late recovery from August’s crunch time at work. I took a couple of days on the couch to recover, and when it started to fade, I headed back to the office. But the cold wasn’t finished yet, and by trying to rush it, I only invited it to extend its stay. Sure enough, it hung around, bringing a sinus infection to the party, and before I knew it, two weeks passed. Well now I’m better, but in anticipation of the many unwelcome colds sure to pay visits this summer, I’ll share a godsend of a recipe with you. It’s for a soup so simple, yet so restorative, that I probably wouldn’t have made it through the past half-month without it.

One morning when I was feeling unusually chipper, I shelled some fresh cranberry beans and threw them in a pot. I added a couple teaspoons of olive oil, half an onion chopped, 2 whole cloves of garlic, water, and, about 20 minutes in, a big bunch of sorrel leaves (NOT the stems, which, I learned the hard way, separate into sharp spindles that are incredibly NOT fun to eat, especially when glands are swollen. Ouch.) I let the whole thing boil away for 25 minutes total; by then, the beans were pretty soft but not mushy, the sorrel was fully cooked, and the broth was incredibly fragrant and a bit tart from the sorrel.

My cold was of the particularly nasty variety that made swallowing a luxury just out of reach. My glands were the size of golf balls, and I literally struggled to get food down my craw. This soup was easy on the throat, really simple to make, and flavorful enough that even my stuffy nose could detect aromas. Highly recommended for winter, sick and healthy days alike.

About 1 lb. fresh shelling beans 1 bunch sorrel leaves, stems discarded Salt and pepper Olive oil Half an onion, chopped 2 cloves garlic

Sweat onion and garlic in a couple glugs of olive oil until translucent but not brown. Add shelling beans and several cups of water, and boil til almost soft enough. Add salt and pepper to taste. Add chopped sorrel leaves and boil 3 more minutes. Taste the broth, not the beans, for seasoning: add more salt, pepper, or a squeeze or lemon juice or white wine if necessary. Serve hot.

Andalusian Gazpacho

Please welcome my friend Jeremy, who was bold enough to suggest guest-posting on my blog and kind enough to follow through. He brought over a jar of this gazpacho and when I dunked a spoon in for a taste, I ended up finishing half the jar. It's the perfect summer soup, and I'm thrilled to be featuring it on NDP.

The height of summer means the height of tomato season, and in our house that means gazpacho season. Now, this means different things to different people. Some are partial to a soup that could easily be mistaken for salsa. Others are all about the cucumbers or the bell peppers. I've even heard people refer to a perfectly lovely watermelon soup as gazpacho, though I'd like to think any self-respecting Spaniard would scoff at this. For my money -- and we'll get to how it doesn't need to be a lot of money in a minute -- this easy-to-make gazpacho is the way to go. My spouse and I came upon the basis for this recipe (from Epicurious) some years ago, and over time we've adapted it and turned it into a staple of our summertime repertoire.

All in you're talking about 15 minutes of work for a gazpacho that puts the tomatoes right where they belong: front and center. It's substantial enough with a hunk of fresh baguette to make for a great mid-week meal just sitting at the coffee table. It's refined enough, topped with fresh chives, to lead off a small dinner party. And it's casual enough to serve spoonless in teacups or shot glasses for larger gatherings. It's just about a perfect summer soup, which is why we perpetually have a big jar of it in the fridge until tomatoes go out of season. And did I mention it'll keep for close to a week?

Andalusian Gazpacho

Ingredients 1 2-inch-long piece baguette 3 garlic cloves, or to taste 2 teaspoons salt 2 tablespoons Sherry vinegar, or to taste 1 teaspoon sugar 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin 2 1/2 pounds ripe tomatoes, cored and quartered 1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil Garnish: whatever's around, but finely chopped (bell peppers, chives, cucumbers, parsley...)

Thoughts on Ingredients

Fresh baguette is probably best, but in the name of economy, we find this is the perfect place to use any stub that you might have leftover from lunch or shoved in the freezer for whatever reason.

For god's sake, please use fresh garlic. Don't try to substitute powder or any of that crap that comes in jars or wrapped in plastic. The early garlic, out now (or coming soon) to a farmers' market near you, is awesome.

Coarse kosher salt works great.

Don't try to substitute for the Sherry vinegar. We've tried, and the gazpacho doesn't quite pucker the same way without it. Sometimes labeled with the Spanish "vinagre de Jerez," Sherry vinegar can be hard to find at Safeway or Giant or the like, but Whole Foods usually has it. If not, and I hate how snobby this sounds, try Dean & Deluca or Fairway.

Use second tomatoes. You don't need gorgeous, perfect fruit when it's about to hit the bottom of a blender. At our local farmers' market, tomatoes go for $3.50-$4.00 per pound, but seconds are only $1.50, and if you choose wisely (firm with a blemish is fine, borderline rotten is not) finding enough for this recipe should be a cinch). As for variety, we're yet to find one that doesn't work, though I have to admit, I'm partial to the heirlooms later in the season.

Don't bother with a garnish unless it's fresh.

Directions:

Start by soaking the bread in a glass of water for a minute or two, then squeeze it dry and dump the water. The Gourmet recipe calls for trimming the crust, which I do. My spouse doesn't trim the crust, however, and frankly I can't taste much difference nor detect any real change in mouth-feel.

Gourmet tells you to mash garlic to a paste with salt using a mortar and pestle. We just crush the garlic with the side of our chef's knife and then chop it.

Blend the garlic, salt, baguette, vinegar, sugar, cumin, and half the tomatoes. We use a blender, because you're going to want to let the soup chill in a glass container, but a food processor works, too. Blend until the tomatoes are very finely chopped. Add the remaining tomatoes with motor running, and then ever so slowly, pour in the oil in a steady stream, blending until totally smooth. Don't rush -- taking your time with the oil is key to a velvety gazpacho

The garlic takes some time to come to the fore here, but when it does, it kicks, so resist the temptation to overdo. Refrigerate for a few hours, or until cold. Garnish and serve.

Building a Flavorful Vegetarian Soup

Winter has no better antidote than a hearty bowl of soup. On nights when all I want to do is cuddle under a blanket with tea, I often fill a bowl with soup and slurp it instead of chai. The choice there is easy: soup warms your insides and double-serves as dinner.

I've been intently focused on perfecting my soup technique. As you can probably tell, I've been eating a mostly vegetarian diet lately, and when you don't have meat or poultry broth to work with, building layers of flavor becomes much more important. I've found that my best soups are the ones where I really think hard about flavor combinations before starting, and where I ensure that every layer of flavor gets substantial attention, so that it can make as full a contribution to the overall flavor as possible.

Rule no.1 and most important: when building a vegetarian soup, you must roast or saute your vegetables, in stages, before adding liquid. Most vegetables have natural sugars that will remain latent until drawn out with heat. Sauteing or roasting your vegetables will bring those sugars to the surface, and through prolonged exposure to heat and fat, the sugars will start to caramelize. The deeper the caramelization, the more complex the flavor. If you can get those onions, peppers, and garlic to turn a deep amber color without burning, your soup is on the road to deliciousness. I used to prefer saute, because I could do it in the same pan as I eventually made the soup, thus not losing any of the fond (those brown bits of flavor that gather at the bottom of the pan). Lately, I've taken to roasting, as I find it draws out the caramel flavor more slowly and evenly. But there's nothing wrong with a good saute, you hear?

Rule no. 2: to borrow a lesson from Indian cuisine, toasting spices can elevate the flavor of your soup. It's really that simple: by toasting spices, you're intensifying their flavor, and thus, the flavor of whatever broth they are seasoning. Some spices actually change flavor when toasted; nuts, for example, become far more fragrant and nutty as they brown. They're a wonderful addition to soups, by the way. Whole spices can be dry-toasted in an empty saute pan before being ground; toss powdered spices into your mix of oil and aromatics (onions, garlic, carrots, celery, etc) to amplify their flavor. Either way, you won't be sorry. Cooks illustrated has a great spice guide that I was able to find online, here.

Rule no. 3: in the absence of meat or poultry broth, use a mix of good vegetable stock, water, and, sparingly, wine or juice. Canned vegetable stock sucks, but in a pinch, it'll do, as long as you supplement its relatively flat flavor with lots of other things. Usually, I prefer water to canned vegetable stock; I find it makes for a cleaner-tasting soup with more pronounced flavors. Wine is fundamental to my soup-making. It adds much-needed acidity, bitterness, complexity, and umami (which helps round out the other flavors). It should be used sparingly, because its flavor is quite pronounced and even a few glugs in the pot will speak plenty. that said, it's as close to a well-rounded flavor as we've got and should be exploited. For lentil and tomato-based soups, I'll add some of whatever's open in the fridge. For more delicate soups like white bean, squash, and vegetable, I'll use white wine. Orange juice makes a lovely addition to lentils as well as squash, sweet potatoes, and carrots. Apple juice and pears/pear juice play nicely with parsnips, turnips, and rutabaga. These combinations are hardly exhaustive.

A couple more tips:

• dried porcini mushrooms are a vegetarian cook's best friend. Their flavor is strong, meaty, and complex; I add them to about 75% of all the soup and stew I make.
• a drizzle of flavored oil on a bowl of vegetarian soup goes a long way. I especially like white truffle oil and my new favorite, walnut oil.
• the same goes for garnishes. a dollop of yogurt and a sprinkle of herbs or herb croutons adds yet another dimension of flavor, texture, and visual appeal.

The list really goes on, but that's a good start. Have any favorite tips or advice for vegetarian soup-making? Leave them in the comments.

I'll leave you with a truly wonderful recipe for Moroccan Vegetable Soup called Harira that comes from Moosewood Low-fat Favorites. It's one of my all-time fave soups -- highly recommended.

Harira Soup from Moosewood

1 cup onions, choped 4 cups vegetable stock 1 tsp cinnamon 1 tsp turmeric 1 Tbsp fresh ginger root, grated 1/8 tsp cayenne 1 cup carrots, peeled and diced 1/2 cup celery, diced 1 cup canned tomatoes undrained, chopped 1 1/2 cup potatoes, diced 1 pinch saffron 1 cup lentils, cooked 1 cup cooked chickpeas, drained 1 1/2 Tbsp fresh cilantro, chopped 1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice salt and pepper lemon wedges

In a covered soup pot, simmer the onions in 1 cup of the stock for 10 minutes. Combine the cinnamon, turmeric, ginger, and cayenne in a small bowl and add 2 to 3 tablespoons of the hot liquid to form a paste. Stir this paste into the pot along with the carrots, celery, and the remaining stock. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat, cover, and simmer for 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes and potatoes and continue to cook, covered, for 15 to 20 minutes, until the potatoes are tender. Crumble in the saffron. Stir in the lentils, chickpeas, cilantro, lemon juice, and salt and pepper to taste. Reheat.

Serve with lemon wedges.

Beans in Broth with Caramelized Sweet Potato

Have I told you about Rancho Gordo? Having read too many articles about the joys of dried beans, I teamed up with my officemate and we ordered a shipment. Now, under my counter, I've got a healthy supply of them, including rio zape, tepari, mayocoba, garbanzo, and borlotti.

I've always loved beans. (It's tough not to when you grow up in a vegetarian house.) And I won't lie: nothing beats the convenience of canned beans. If you won't take it from me, take it from Adam: I couldn't agree more that in a pinch, canned kidney bean chili or canned garbanzo bean hummus tastes just great. But canned beans are on the mushy side, and they taste like salt. If I can spare the time and manage the advance prep, it's wonderful to bite into toothsome beans for dinner -- and nothing beats controlling your own seasoning.

Like I said, dried beans can't be made in a flash. They need to be soaked overnight, rinsed, and then simmered for at least a couple hours to achieve optimum texture. If you can manage the time, though, you'll see that dried beans have better texture and distinctive flavor, even when prepared uber-simply. Last night's dinner is a case in point.

Yesterday was a super cold day; I knew I'd want something warm and comforting for dinner, but I didn't want to use any meat products, so my frozen beef-broth cubes were out of the question. I'd put some beans in soaking water that morning, so that was a start. My normal inclination would be to dump the kitchen sink in a pot and hope it turned out well, but I've been thinking a lot about the value of restraint when seasoning food. Sometimes, the simplest dishes are the tastiest. How would my beans taste if instead of seasoning them with beef broth and 20 spices, I used water and 5? I decided that now was the time to try a minimalist bean dish.

On my way home, I did a quick mental-survey of my kitchen and remembered a lonely sweet potato in the bowl on the dining room table. As soon as I got home, I turned the oven to 350, wrapped the sweet potato (skin on) in old foil and tossed it in. I'd leave it there until the beans were done; by then, it'd be nice and caramelized, with a custard-like texture.

Meanwhile, I took 1 cup of soaked tepari beans (small, like cannellini) out of the fridge, drained them, and rinsed them a couple times. In a medium pot, I sauteed 2 chopped shallots in 2 Tbsp. of olive oil. To that, I added 1/2 tsp. coriander seeds, 1/2 tsp. smoked paprika, 1/2 tsp. aleppo pepper (chili flakes would work), a pinch of saffron, and 1 bay leaf. I stirred all this around for a couple minutes, then added the beans, stirred to coat with the seasoning, and added 3 cups of water. I turned the heat down to medium-low, and left the beans to simmer, covered, for about 2 hours, adding more water as necessary. In two hours' time, the spices mingled, and the beans released some of their own flavor as well. There was plenty of extra liquid, which formed a lovely pot liquor scented with coriander, smoked paprika, and, well...beans. I poured some into a bowl, added half of the sweet potato with its wonderful caramel-brown skin, got myself a spoon, curled up on the couch, and went to heaven. Amazing.

Beans in Broth with Caramelized Sweet Potato

(As I said, this recipe is simple, but truly amazing. So amazing, in fact, that I failed to take a picture of the finished dish. You'll have to let your imagination kick in here.)

1 sweet potato 1 cup tepari or other small white beans 2 shallots, chopped 1/2 tsp. aleppo pepper 1/2 tsp. smoked paprika 1/2 tsp. coriander seeds pinch saffron threads 1 bay leaf 3 cups water

Wrap sweet potato, skin-on, in foil and toss in the oven. Turn on to 350 or 400 degrees (we're flexible), and just let it rip. Give it at least an hour; the longer, the better. I left mine in for about 2 hours and 15 minutes, and it was as soft as custard.

Pre-soak beans overnight or for at least 3 hours in water that covers them by at least an inch. Drain and rinse; set aside.

In medium pot, saute 2 chopped shallots in 2 Tbsp. of olive oil. Add 1/2 tsp. coriander seeds, 1/2 tsp. smoked paprika, 1/2 tsp. aleppo pepper (chili flakes would work), and 1 bay leaf. Stir to incorporate, then add the beans, stirred to coat with the seasoning, and add 3 cups of water. Turn the heat down to medium-low, and leave the beans to simmer, covered, for about 2 hours, adding more water as necessary.

When beans are fork-tender but not mushy, pour a serving into a bowl with some of the bean broth, and add half the cooked sweet potato. If desired, top with grated parmesan cheese (though I didn't).