Archive for ‘Soup’

March 8th, 2010

Saffron Cauliflower Soup

Life doesn’t seem to understand that my head is still on vacation. I keep telling Life, over and over, that I’m still in Savannah or soaking in the tub at the Riverstead, and Life just puts his fingers in his ears and ignores me. He tells me I’ve been home for almost a month, and that I need to get back to cooking, and blogging about my meals, and to quit thinking I’m some kind of restaurant blogger now.


Writing about restaurants here and over at my new second-blog-home, Jersey Bites, helps me pretend I’m still on vacation. I went out to brunch last week and had two cocktails. I went out to lunch the next day. Then Jim and I ordered wood-oven pizzas two nights in a row. Then back out to dinner the next day. Hey Life, that sounds like a vacation to me. It’s all amazing fun.

But honestly, Life is right. I need to get back to cooking more regularly. I made a soup this morning and it felt so good to be standing over the stove, chopping onions, sneaking tastes here and there before the soup was finished. It even felt strangely good to be cleaning up the dishes later, swiping my favorite cutting board clean, drying off the blender. And finally, after almost a month back from vacation, I felt like I was me again: home in my kitchen, slurping up this creamy, salty soup, flavored boldly but not overwhelming with saffron, and topped with chive oil and fat snips of chives.

Soup is me. I need to remember that when I’m feeling out of sorts. I love making soups in the middle of a Saturday morning. No one else in the kitchen. No rush to get dinner on the table. I putt around. Listen to an episode of The Splendid Table. Cut the onions with precision, even though I don’t need to. And then, after the dishes are done and the table is cleared, I can sit down next to the tulips and have a proper lunch.

My favorite soup for this kind of proper lunch, on a Saturday with flowers on the table, is a pureed vegetable soup. This one, cauliflower, is just right: velvety with a bit of cream; very smooth after a long twist in the blender. It’s fancier than your typical clean-out-the-fridge pot of soup, so you can have a bowl for lunch and then serve the rest at a dinner party. The chives this time of the year are a little less than bright and cheery, so I pureed them with some nice olive oil for drizzling.

But the saffron is what really makes it special. Saffron is the long satin glove of the spice wardrobe. Delicate, fancy, and exotic, it lends a very-slightly bitter taste, almost of iodine, to the creamy soup—a flavor that can’t be mimicked. And the way you cook with it, lifting the little threads of out of their tiny bag, your soft, nimble fingers crushing it, measuring it out just right (because too much saffron is more like big, burly snow gloves), before you finally let it steep in the broth—it’s all very satisfying. With this soup, in my own home, I’m not missing vacation at all.

Saffron Cauliflower Soup

serves 6

adapted from Bon Appetit, January 2003

2 cups water
2 cups chicken stock
1/8 teaspoon coarsely crumbled saffron threads

3 tablespoons butter
2 cups chopped onions
1 1/2 pounds cauliflower, cut into1/2- to 3/4-inch pieces
1/4 cup heavy cream, or more to taste

1 small bunch chives
1/3 cup olive oil
Thinly sliced fresh chives

Combine 2 cups water and 2 cups low-salt chicken broth in medium saucepan. Bring mixture just to simmer. Remove from heat. Add saffron threads. Cover and steep 20 minutes.

Melt 3 tablespoons butter in heavy medium pot over medium-low heat. Add chopped onions and sauté until very tender but not brown, about 10 minutes. Add cauliflower pieces; stir to coat. Add saffron broth. Bring to simmer over high heat. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer until cauliflower pieces are tender, about 20 minutes.

Working in batches, puree cauliflower mixture in a blender until smooth. Transfer cauliflower puree to large saucepan. Stir in half and half and bring to simmer. Season to taste with salt and pepper. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and refrigerate. Bring to simmer before serving.)

Put chives into cleaned blender.  Pulse for 1 minutes.  Add oil in a steady steam and blend for 1-2 minutes more, or until chive oil is smooth.

Ladle soup into bowls. Garnish with chive oil and a few sliced fresh chives and serve.

Printable Recipe

October 7th, 2009

Cauliflower soup with crème fraîche.

After all that Stockton Soup Lady business last post, I think it’s high time for me to show off a few more of my soups.  This one, a cauliflower soup with leeks, crème fraîche, toasted pine nuts, and meyer lemon-infused olive oil, is a favorite.

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Cauliflower was one of the first soups, after roasted tomato, that I started making on a regular basis.  It’s the perfect soup base because it yields a very creamy soup and it can temper bold additions, like Stilton cheese, without the soup tasting too strong. I used lemon-infused olive oil as my intense flavor addition, and while that might not seem too bold, I hadn’t been able to figure out what to do with this seriously lemony olive oil (it’s too much for a tomato salad, and I don’t care for it in vinaigrette) until I dripped it over the cauliflower soup, already slightly tart from crème fraîche, and it found its home.

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This soup, with the lemon oil or whatever garnish is on hand, is a must this fall, especially if you’re like me and you need some extra comforting lately. Last Sunday night, my uncle lost his battle with lung cancer.  I had been able to spend some time with him on Friday afternoon, and by the time I left I knew that would be the last time we saw each other.  He didn’t go without a fight, though; he’d been fighting strong since his diagnosis months back

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He loved life, and couldn’t stand the thought of leaving it so early, at 52; he didn’t want to let go of the dreams for his future, or his new home country, Kenya, where he had lived the past five years before coming back to the States for treatment.  He didn’t want to let go of his wife and daughter in Kenya, both of whom he had far too little time with. He didn’t want to let go of his family and friends here in New Jersey, and New York City, and San Francisco, or his memories, or his jokes, or his snarky attitude.  He wanted all of it–all of life. Even when it hurt too much for him to stand anymore, he wanted life. I think that’s the most difficult part of this; it’s so hard to accept that he died, even when he wanted so badly not to.

Cauliflower soup

I would have loved to share this soup with my uncle; sadly he wasn’t up for much eating towards the end, which is sadder still knowing how much he enjoyed food.  Uncle John was the reason I loved to eat as a kid; his appetite was impossibly large and varied, and very, very cool.  He ate grasshoppers, and onion and peanut-butter sandwiches, but he also appreciated well-made classics.  He would have loved this soup.

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Cauliflower Soup with Crème fraîche

4-6 servings

4 small leeks, top dark green part removed
1 small onion
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tsp salt
1 medium head cauliflower
2 cups homemade chicken stock
2 cups water

3 or more tablespoons crème fraîche to taste

handful of pine nuts, toasted (optional)

meyer lemon olive oil, such as o Meyer Lemon Oil (optional)

Cut leeks lengthwise in half. Split halves open and wash thoroughly under running water, discarding any outer leaves that are egregiously dirty, then slice. Chop onion. In a medium soup pot, melt butter over medium-high heat. Add in leeks and onion and cook until softened, about 5-8 minutes. Add in salt.

Remove leaves from the cauliflower head and cut in half then, using a sharp knife, cut out the stalk. With your hands, break up the cauliflower into florets. Add florets to soup pot with stock and water. If you don’t have homemade chicken stock, you can use all water. Bring to a boil and then lower heat and simmer for 20-30 minutes, or until florets are tender and easily broken up.

Using caution, blend the soup in three or four batches.  Add back to pot and stir in creme crème fraîche.  Serve in bowl with toasted pine nuts and olive oil.

September 17th, 2009

Roasted tomato and garlic soup.

I have to warn you, I may start waxing sentimental over fall during the next few weeks. I love this time of year — early fall — when I can still get tomatoes and corn but pears, squash, and figs are also in market.  The stress of the holidays hasn’t kicked in, an evening walk is comfortable in a long sleeve shirt, and the windows can be left open all night to enjoy the chilly breeze.  It’s the specific time of year when seeing a pumpkin on someone’s steps isn’t just another pumpkin and when thoughts of ghouls and wicked witches are delightfully wholesome.

The leaves start to turn—but aren’t taking over the yard—and the idea of spending the weekend snuggling on the couch with my fiance seems just right.  And then there’s soup.  Soup shines in fall; I’m not conflicted about it, like I can be with summer soups.  Roasted tomato and garlic soup, in particular, is  suited to early fall, when roasted garlic is wholly, utterly, in my thoughts again.  Sticky, sweet, and slyly pungent, roasted garlic will turn you on your head, and combining it with its true love, the roasted tomato, is even better.

You’ll have to act quickly to make this soup.  At least in the Northeast, tomato season is coming to a close, which is a sad, sad thing.  So sad, you know, that I think it’d be okay to make this soup with tomatoes that are a little less-than, if you don’t catch any before they are gone.  Or, as I know I will this winter, try making this with canned whole San Marazanos by just taking them out of the can and washing off the excess sauce before continuing with the recipe (you can leave the tomatoes whole, here.)

If you like tomato soup, you’ll love this one; it tastes like tomato soup should taste, not too salty like the processed varieties, nor too sweet.  The garlic adds background depth and a touch of caramel sweetness, but isn’t going to prohibit anyone from kissing strangers later in the day.  And, at least for me, this soup epitomizes the beginning of fall even more than meatloaf.  I may be a little biased, though, since this soup is also a part of my livelihood.  I’ve started a little project, the Stockton Soup Lady.  I’m selling soups about town and this is one of my favorites.  Homemade Soups, Hand Delivered is my slogan, and I’m a wee bit proud of thinking it up.  It’s a teeny-tiny project now, and I rather like it that way: I can spend lots of time going from farm to farm, choosing my ingredients, and I don’t have to bribe friends for freezer space to store all the chicken stock I’m making.  It’s really a lot of fun.

Roasted Tomato and Garlic Soup

adapted from Gourmet

4 lb tomatoes, halved lengthwise
8 garlic cloves, left unpeeled
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano, crumbled
2 teaspoons sugar
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade
1/3 cup heavy cream

Put oven rack in middle position and preheat to 350°F.

Arrange tomatoes, cut sides up, in 1 layer in a large shallow baking pan and add garlic to pan. Drizzle tomatoes with oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast tomatoes and garlic 1 hour, then cool in pan on a rack. Peel garlic.

Cook onion, oregano, and sugar in butter in a 6- to 8-quart heavy pot over moderately low heat, stirring frequently, until onion is softened, about 5 minutes. Add tomatoes, garlic, and stock and simmer, covered, 20 minutes.

Purée soup in batches in a blender (use caution when blending hot liquids), then force through a sieve into cleaned pot, discarding solids. Stir in cream and salt and pepper to taste and simmer 2 minutes.  Serves 6-8.

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