Split Pea Soup

*Just Braise has moved. Please visit me at www.justbraise.com!*

For the Chinese New Year of the Pig I’ll be finishing out my pork dishes.

This luxurious soup was made from that citrus-sweet pork shoulder way back when. (This blog is not exactly in Real Time-- although I suppose it is possible I froze the bone).

The weather this past week has been frigid. Growing up in the Chicagoland area, I can handle the cold (my school was once canceled because it was too cold to go outside, i.e. frostbite in under 1 second). When I first moved to New York City almost 10 years ago I used to (for brief stints outside) wear t-shirts in 30 degree weather. People thought I was crazy, I proclaimed it was the Chicagoan in me keeping me warm. But when winds blast exposed skin so it feels as though it is peeling right off your face… Well, that makes we want to crawl into a small room with a blazing fire and never leave.

When it is this cold outside and you can feel the cold shoot from the pavement through your shoes and freeze your bones, hot meals are all the more soothing. There is little better than the natural heating power of a steaming bowl of soup to keep you toasty (okay, maybe a steaming mug of hot cocoa or tea). This a the perfect soup for the blah weather. It is silky rich and deliciously filling with a little croute on top or crispy bread on the side.

My freezer is full of frozen individual portion sizes of soups. Once frozen and mixed up, they often turn into a game of surprise lunches that D and I will regale in after work: “Ooooh, I had that swiss chard soup from this summer-- even better warm!” or “I thought it was the ginger carrot, but once hot I realized it was the winter squash.” The supply sometimes seems endless and the addition of this split pea is a welcomed one. How else do you think D and I have had nary a sneeze these past two winters (forgetting the recent bout of food poisoning that just reinforces the benefits of home eating).

I remember my mother used to make split pea for us in the winter. Just before serving she would float hot dog slices into the soup (how very Chicago of her). As kids, we loved it and I distinctly remember plucking each hot dog piece out with my fingers and shoving my whole fist happily into my mouth, licking it clean in the process.

These days, I don’t need that extra salty kick of a hot dog to eat this soup (I prefer the kick of a little bacon). Once the split peas soften into the broth, this soup is deceivingly thick. If I didn’t make it myself I would swear there was gallons of cream laced into this creation. In fact, the only cream is the (optional) tablespoon I floated on top before serving.

This is the kind of soup that can melt you out of the warm house, allowing you to brave the nasty elements outside. It is filling on its own, paired with a light salad or a good sandwich.

SPLIT PEA SOUP
Serving Size= 8-10. Active time= about 20 minutes. Inactive time= about 2 hours.
* 2 tablespoons butter
* 1 tablespoon olive oil
* ½ pound bacon, cut into ½ inch pieces (optional and used instead of butter and olive oil)
* 1 large sweet onion, chopped
* 2 stalks celery plus leaves, chopped about 3 inches long
* 2 carrots, chopped about 3 inches long
* pork bone, the shoulder works well
* 10-12 cups water
* 2- 12 ounce bags green split peas, washed and brown ones discarded
* ½ cup loosely chopped parsley, plus extra for garnish
* 2-½ teaspoons cumin
* salt/ pepper to taste

1) Warm a large stock pot over medium-high heat. Add bacon and cook until browned, about 8 minutes. Remove bacon set aside. Keep about 2 tablespoons of fat in the stock pot, discard the remaining, soaking it up with a paper towel. (If not using bacon, warm the butter and olive oil and continue).
2) Add onion and sauté until translucent; about 5 minutes.
5) Add celery, carrots and pork bone, sauté about 5 minutes. Add water, cover and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and uncover slightly.
6) Let simmer until pork bone begins to break down and smell infiltrates the air, about 1-½ hours. Add split peas, parsley, cumin and pepper. Follow directions for cooking length on back of package, usually the peas need about 30 minutes to cook.
7) Peas will have absorbed most liquid. Add salt to taste. Remove bone and cut any remaining pork into bite-sized pieces, add to soup. Additionally, if any pork remains uneaten from shoulder, about 2 cups of bite-sized pieces can be added to the pot. Add bacon, stir until evenly combined.
9) Serve plain or with croutes and a little heavy cream and/or parsley flakes drizzled over top.

Shrimp Bisque

It has been so long… I have a holiday sale coming up at my studio and made a mad push to fire one last kiln load before the big day. If you’re in the New York City area and think handmade ceramics might be up your gift giving alley (or for you personally), all are welcome. Eleven ceramic artists all with very different styles will have pieces on sale. Food, drinks and even some live music--music on Saturday only--will be part of the celebrations. The sale is Dec 7-10 in Long Island City, Queens (first stop into Queens from Manhattan, 15 minutes from midtown). Email me if you would like more details-- the bad news: this is our last sale, the building that houses our studio will be turned into luxury condos!

So are you already tired of all that turkey? Or maybe it’s the turkey that is making you tired. I’ve already turned my leftovers into my grandmother’s savory Latvian Pancakes and stashed them in the freezer for a rainy day. Okay, I popped a few along the way. But I learned that making these time consuming treasures is much easier taken in steps: day 1 make crepe batter and filling; day 2 make crepes, fill and finish. Mmm, I might go grab another one…

But really, the shrimp bisque already. If you have fish stock on hand this recipe is a cinch. It is quick, filling and warming on a cold, rainy day. With some warm bread (or in a bread bowl) this makes a fantastic meal.

My mother sent me Ina Garten’s new book Barefoot Contessa at Home: Everyday Recipes You'll Make Over and Over Again. Most recipes are pretty basic with ingredients that can easily be substituted for what you have on hand. I’ve heard the writing matches Ina’s personality, and if you don’t like her show, you won’t like the book. I don’t have cable (so I have never seen the show) and I haven't really taken the time to read her stories, so the recipes suit me well enough as a jumping off point.

I saw this shrimp bisque recipe and while I was really craving clam chowder, this recipe seemed a little less labor intensive (and I had clam chowder at a restaurant the previous night so why over due it?). With my old lean to, the handheld blender, I was able to whip this one up in just about 30 minutes. I had fish stock frozen and waiting for use from the seafood paella and today was its day!

SHRIMP BISQUE
Adapted from The Barefoot’s Contessa at Home cookbook
Makes about 6 servings. Active time= 20 minutes. Inactive time= about 10 minutes.
*1 pound shrimp, shells removed and set aside
* 1 tablespoon butter (or olive oil)
* 1 onion, chopped
* 3-4 cloves garlic, crushed
* 2 celery stalks, chopped
* 1 rosemary branch, 4-6 inches
* 2 teaspoons paprkia
* ½ cup brandy
* 5 cups fish stock (see my paella for a recipe if you cannot find it at the store)
* 1 8oz can tomato paste (get one with no salt/ no flavors added)
* 1 pint heavy cream or half and half

1) In a small pot on medium heat, bring fish stock and shrimp shells to a simmer, about 15 minutes. Do not boil.
2) While stock is warming, in your main stock pot over medium heat, warm 1 tablespoon butter. Add onions, garlic, celery and rosemary. Sauté 8-10 minutes, until onions turn translucent.
3) Add paprika and shrimp, cook for 3 minutes until shrimp begin to turn pink and curl.
4) Add brandy and cook for 3 minutes more.
5) Remove the rosemary branch (okay if some leaves remain). Strain the fish stock to remove the shrimp shells and add to the main pot.
6) Add tomato paste and stir until dissolved.
7) Using a handheld blender (or carefully in batches with a regular blender) pulse the soup. Break down most of the shrimp, but overall, leave the soup chunky. Add cream, bring to a simmer and serve.

Winter Squash Soup

For some, the crisp fall weather is fearsome. It means cold weather, leafless trees, heavy jackets, and buckets of snow are on the way. Too worried about the future, they fail to appreciate the present and all the greatness this time of year has to offer. To them I say, be away with you-- move south!

Whatever happened to your love of sledding, apple picking, snowball fights, pumpkin carving, and snow angels? Jumping through billows of fresh fallen leaves or mounds of fresh pure snow? Waking up on a cold morning to icicles covering the windows and pole licking dares (à la A Christmas Story)?

Personally, fall is my favorite time of year. I love the brisk weather, the changing of the trees, and bundling up in sweaters and mittens. I especially love the food of the season: hot cocoa, soups, stews, the spices that emerge (nutmeg, cinnamon, peppermint) and the general hearty warming these things have on the state of mind.

I go into ration mode. I have the summer fruits I bought overripe and cheap, frozen away to be used in the dead of winter for a Caribbean-like fruit smoothie when its bitterly unbearable outside and reminders of warm weather are necessary. I also have my stockpile of soups that begin to accumulate in single serving sized containers, ready to accompany me to the office for a little internal snuggle or a fast dinner when the need arises.

This soup is an exception. Naturally sweet, creamy and delicious, it is hard to put any aside for a later date. A perfect seasonal soup, this dish would look fabulous for a Halloween treat, Thanksgiving feast, or anything in between and beyond. Make this soup, and you may never make another again.

WINTER SQUASH SOUP
Serving Size= 8-10. Active time= about 40 minutes. Inactive time= about 1 hours.
* 1 White Acorn Squash (or regular Acorn Squash)
* 1 small Butternut Squash
* 1 small Golden Nugget Squash*
* 1 large sweet onion, chopped
* 1 stalk celery, chopped
* 2 carrots, chopped
* 8 cups chicken stock (or vegetable)
* 2 long sticks of fresh Rosemary
* 2 whole cinnamon sticks, about 3 inches long
* 1 teaspoon nutmeg

1) Preheat oven to 350F. Using a heavy sharp knife, slice the three squash down the middle vertically. Gut the seeds (set aside if you want to bake them for eating later, otherwise; discard).
2) Place the squash skin side down on a large cookie sheet and place in middle rack of oven. Bake for 40 minutes, or until soft when poked with a fork.
3) While squash are baking, prepare the other ingredients and begin the soup.
4) In a large stock pot on medium-high heat, warm 2 Tablespoons olive oil or butter (or combination of both). Add onion and sauté until translucent; about 8 minutes.
5) Add celery, carrots, chicken broth, rosemary and cinnamon sticks. Cover and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and uncover slightly. The squash should be about done at this time.
6) Remove squash from oven when soft when touched with fork. Using a towel around your hand, or a fork and knife, either peel the skin off the squash, or slice it away, keeping as much meat as possible. Cut squash into 2-3 inch chunks and add to stock pot.
7) Cover and bring to a boil then reduce heat and remove cover.
8) Remove cinnamon sticks and rosemary twigs (leaves will have fallen off). Add nutmeg. Using a handheld blender, or carefully in batches with a regular blender, purée the soup until smooth.
9) Serve plain or with a little heavy cream.
*Note: If you are unable to find these squash in your local market, almost any combination of squash will work. Just Acorn and Butternut would work well, or Acorn, Butternut and pumpkin, etc.

Tags: squash, soup, squash soup, butternut squash, acorn squash, golden nugget, hearty soup, comfort food, fall flavors.

Roasted Red Pepper & Mushroom Soup

The recent spell of cool, wet weather along the east coast was nothing but pleasant for me. Fall foods are some of my favorite, full of hearty warmth. The passing storms sought to bring out the culinary colors of the season and my own penchant for soups.

In gloomy weather, reds are a bright choice for foods. Red makes us think of warmth, be it the heat of a hot pepper or an August sunset. The color brings us memories of the summer; think warm vine ripe tomatoes, raspberries or strawberries. When the dreary grey days of fall and winter have us down, there is nothing like a bright bowl of soup to cheer us up.

In the past, I have made brilliantly hued and high flavored roasted red pepper and tomato soup, as well as roasted tomato soup. Both delicious: the sweetness of pepper and tomato are enhanced in the roasting process; adding a pleasant finish to any soup.

In addition to the glorious red bell pepper, I adore mushrooms. Their earthy aroma and buttery flavor can compete with most anything delectable. So how to combine the sweetness of a pepper and the robustness of the mushroom? A soup of course-- Full of sweetness and heavy undertones. Perfect for these the days when fall looms ahead, yet light and colorful enough to remind us that summer still holds.

I topped this soup off with some heavy cream and homemade croutes (as Julia Child would say)—- or croutons. (These croutes were made weeks ago from stale bread, cut into 1-inch cubes and frozen. Once the soup was ready, the croutes were drizzled with 1 Tbl olive oil, fresh ground pepper, salt, a pinch of garlic powder and placed in a toaster oven until browned.)

ROASTED RED PEPPER & MUSHROOM SOUP
Serving Size= 6-8 persons. Active time= about 30 minutes. Inactive time= about 30 minutes.
* 2 red bell peppers, whole
* 1 large onion, chopped loose
* 4 cloves garlic, chopped
* 2 stalks celery, chopped loose
* 1 quart button mushrooms (or two large handfuls), chopped loose
* 2 Tbl non-salted butter (or olive oil)
* 6 cups chicken (or vegetable) broth (boxed or homemade)
* 1 small bunch parsley, washed well
* salt/ pepper to taste

1) The easiest way to roast a red pepper is in the broiler by following step one of this previous soup post. Alternatively, I prefer to use the “baba ganoush method:” rotate over an open flame (using tongs) until the pepper turns black, throw it into a paper bag for 15-20 minutes, peel off black char, discard innards, add to soup just before broth.
2) Place onion, garlic, celery and mushrooms into a large stock pot with 2 Tbl butter or olive oil. Sauté for about 10 minutes; until onions turn translucent and limp and mushrooms begin to brown and release juices.
3) Add roasted red peppers.
4) Add chicken broth and parsley. Cover, bring to a boil, then reduce heat and allow to simmer for 10 minutes.
5) Using a handheld blender or carefully in batches with a regular blender, puree the contents until smooth and even. If thicker than desired, cut soup with a little water. Taste for flavor, add salt/ pepper to taste.
6) Garnish with cream and parsley and serve with grilled cheese, peanut butter and jelly, cucumber onion (or any other preferred sandwich), a hunk of crusty bread, croutes, good cheese, a salad, or on its own.

Tags: roasted peppers, red peppers, mushrooms, soup.

Vichyssoise

There is no doubt the French can cook. Grant it, one can say this about most any people, but I take a special leaning towards French cuisine.

I began learning French in elementary school, in part, because I loved French food-- A food snob before I knew it, one of my favorite restaurants was La Boheme, an upscale bistro. To encourage my love of all things French, whenever my family traveled, my father stalked out the local French establishments (hotels, restaurants) even with his abhorrence to it all. I would walk in and grandly correct his forgotten Spanish-esque pronunciation of a French word so that all could hear me, the French-spewing-girl-wonder.

Finally my family went to Paris. I attempted to disassociate myself from my rambunctious brothers as they hollered and tumbled through parks, museums and grand avenues. I believed myself to be of more noble blood, I spoke French afterall. Appalling to the masses (mostly me), in broken Spanish my father would ask for directions: “Whatever, it’s close enough, just change an ‘e’ to an ‘a’!”. Of course, this did not help his love of the country, nor the Frenchman’s love of Americans and they promptly tuff-tuffed their way out of the situation.

“Um, moment!” I ran after countless groups. In what I believed to be perfect (though limited) French, I asked for and repeated directions that were offered with accolades for my fabulous accent.

In restaurants when my younger brother wanted butter I taught him the word and made him ask for it. I checked us into hotels. I owned France—I was a sixth-grade Francophile.

In junior high school I met a girl who’s father was French—and a chef. Worlds collided and I latched onto her. Our friendship survived but my desire to learn the language was extinguished when three horrible high school language teachers dissuaded me from fluency. I thought the girl could cook and might teach me some skills, but was soon disappointed when I found her greatest feats included boxed cakes and microwaves (still pretty good). Regardless, we remained friends.

In the end, I still love the French and the food and can mangle my once-perfect accent into a phrase or three. I tell myself I will take a language course, a French cooking course, move to Paris… In the meantime, having D’s fluency in the language helps my lack of it, knowing how to read a recipe fills the cooking course gap, and the desire to step on a plane and move to France at the moment can be filled by my local (and reasonable!) French restaurant.

This recipe is a play on the classic Vichyssoise (I have added Swiss Chard). It is traditionally served cold and is surprisingly easy to make- the perfect summer soup.

VICHYSSOISE
Active time= 20 minutes. Cook time= 40 minutes. Inactive time= 2 hours.
* 4 leeks, whites only
* 1 large bunch of Swiss chard
* ½ bunch of parsley (optional)
* 6 russet potatoes
* 6 cups chicken stock/ broth (or vegetable)
* 2 cups cream (or milk)
* 2 Tbl unsalted butter
* salt/ pepper to taste

1) Coarsely chop the leeks (whites only), Swiss chard and parsley. Chop the potatoes into 1-2 inch chunks.
2) In a stock pot on medium-high heat, melt the butter. Once warm, add leeks, Swiss chard and parsley. Cook until wilted, stirring occasionally; 8-10 minutes.
3) Add potatoes and chicken stock; cover. Bring to a boil then reduce heat to medium. Cook for 30 minutes; or until potatoes are soft.
4) Using a handheld blender (or carefully in a blender in batches) purée the soup. Add cream, salt and pepper. Refrigerate for 2 hours, or until cold. Serve garnished with parsley.
NOTE: The pink over the soup pictured is sea salt.

Don't forget to check out Kalyn's Kitchen for a little WHB action.

In non-food related news Eat Stuff is back with WCB! Below we have Whisky pictured with a stuffed dog. This could be wrong on many levels, none of which I want to investigate.

Cold Corn Soup

My mother loves buttermilk. When I was growing up, she would buy vats of it and sit happily curled up with a clear glass of thick creamy buttermilk. She tipped the glass and the milk receded, leaving its history in filthy chunky streaks. If the glass was rotated with each drink, the clear would turn white and there was no telling how much of the vile matter was left.

My dislike towards buttermilk probably began when my mother first brought it home: “Ew! Buttermilk?! Why would you drink butter?!” I obediently tasted it, confirming my suspicion of its disgusting nature, spat it back into the cup and thoroughly washed my mouth clean with water and crackers. My brothers held similar sentiments to the fraud milk.

Regardless of her children’s opinions, every few weeks my mother would buy a quart of it. Her prized purchase, she coddled the slim carton like a newborn, setting it gently between the two mammothly awkward gallons of milk and silhouettes of my father’s beer in the refrigerator. We sat down to dinner, places set, milk all around: 2% milk poured for the kids, buttermilk for my mother. I watched my mother’s clear glass turn progressively scum-covered, grimacing with the thought of its improperly heavy consistency.

Sometimes we ran out of 2% milk. My mother, thinking she was so clever, would pour our glasses full of buttermilk. My brothers and I saw the scam before we ever sat down: “I’m not drinking that.”
“What are you talking about? It’s just milk.”
“That’s not milk. That’s that… buttermilk.”
“No it’s not.”
“Yes it is. I can tell because it’s not white.”
White, pristine, pure, the color of half a cow. The color of milk. Real milk. The only milk my brothers and I consumed. We went to the refrigerator to confirm our suspicion: there was no gallon of 2%: “See, I told you. It’s buttermilk.”
“No, it’s the last of the 2%. I threw the container away.”
…Walking to the trash compactor.
“Oh, I already took the trash out…”
A lie. The trash was full. I fetched a glass of juice and sat slumped with crossed arms as my mother’s glass grew opaque throughout dinner. I pushed my buttermilk glass her way, she happily took seconds.

More often than not, a fresh gallon of milk would grace the shelves of the refrigerator after an episode like this. Sometimes, time passed too quickly and the buttermilk remained an intruder on the dinner table. The episode repeated itself with little variation:
“I’m not drinking that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That’s not milk. That’s the buttermilk.”
“No it’s not. I bought regular milk, look:” My mother would lift a glass and slosh the milk around a bit, coating the sides and comparing it to her own glass, “see, mine’s thicker,” she would proudly proclaim.
I knew her trick: “That’s just because you watered ours down. I’m not drinking that.”

Life continued and sooner than later my mother stopped attempting to pass buttermilk off as regular milk. If it was spied in the refrigerator, I pushed it off to the back recesses, allowing real beverages to hold court.

Strangely enough, I love buttermilk. I now happily reach for it every few weeks in the grocery and pull it from my refrigerator. I love it in pancakes and as the base to decadently rich frostings. It is delicious-- Just not alone.

It must have been with a severe lapse in my childhood trauma memory bank that I read a M.F.K. Fisher recipe and thought Cold Buttermilk Soup actually sounded good. Surprisingly refreshing so I copied the recipe down. Adapting it a
bit to suit my own flavors (scallops instead of shrimp, the addition of corn and broth and no sugar).

This soup has become a summertime favorite, especially when corn hits peak season.

COLD CORN SOUP
Serving size= 6 people. Active time= 15 minutes. Inactive time= 1-2 hours
* 1 quart buttermilk
* 2 cups vegetable or chicken broth or stock
* 4 ears of corn
* 1 pound of scallops (or shrimp)
* 1 cucumber, diced
* 2 Tbl spicy mustard
* ¼ cup chopped dill
* 1 Tbl butter
* salt/ pepper to taste

1) Using a sharp knife, carefully slice the kernels off the ears of corn. If using large scallops, cut into quarters.
2) Over medium heat in a large skillet, melt the butter. When pan is hot, add the corn and scallops. Cook about 8 minutes, stirring occasionally, until both change darker shades of their respective original coloring.
3) While the corn and scallops are cooking, dice the cucumber and chop the dill.
4) In a large bowl, place the buttermilk, broth, cucumber, mustard and dill.
5) Once corn and scallops are done, add to buttermilk mixture. Add salt/ pepper to taste. Stir and refrigerate until cooled.

Sunchoke (Jerusalem Artichoke) Soup + WCB #42

For some reason, Sunchokes, otherwise known as Jerusalem Artichokes, were all the rage this season. They popped up on menus throughout the New York City area, from soups to sides to salads. I cannot remember how I came to know of them. Once I did, it was an impossibility to find them. I searched everywhere: green markets, my local produce stands, Whole Foods and other organic stores. It seemed that every restaurant had nabbed them up before I could touch them.

I went weekly into certain groceries, asking for sunchokes, more often than not, I was pointed to artichokes. “No! They look like potatoes crossed with gingerroot,” I would lament. But everyone just shrugged. Once I received: “we’ll be getting those in next week.” The next week, I was again pointed to artichokes.

With the sunchoke season quickly coming to a close (the best time to get fresh sunchokes is October through March) I came to accept that I would go through another season without my own bounty. Having stopped my search, low and behold, I finally found them! Doesn’t it always seem true that your desire is fulfilled when you stop searching for it?

I packed them up and brought them home, ready to make a soup as creamy and delicious as a potato soup. So why not use potatoes already? Well, simply put, sunchokes contain more health benefits than potatoes; diabetics often substitute sunchokes for potatoes.

Sunchokes are the root of a plant that resembles a sunflower and the name is derived from the Italian word sunflower: girasole. Sunchokes have a nutty and slightly sweet flavor, allowing them to pair nicely with almost everything from bacon to nutmeg.

Sunchokes store carbohydrates in a form of inulin, a starch that our bodies do not use. Because of this, they are filling, but are not absorbed by our bodies, and show indications of assisting in blood sugar control. Sunchoke flour is also available in some specialty stores, making a good substitute for people allergic to wheat. They are high in iron and potassium and low in fats. Sunchokes also contain a healthy bacteria, lactobacilli , which provide balance in the intestinal track and aid in digestion.

Don’t shy away next time you see this tasty tuber. It is delicious and good for you. If you make it in this soup recipe below, as D will tell you, it is the best soup yet, sweet, creamy and extremely filling on its own-- just don’t tell D you made it unless you want a dinner guest!

SUNCHOKE SOUP
Serving Size= about 12. Active Time= 25 minutes. Inactive Time= 45 minutes.
* 3 ham hocks, have your butcher cut them up
* 8-10 slabs of bacon
* 1-½ lbs sunchokes, scrubbed and cut into 1-inch chunks (no need to peel)
* 1 medium white onion, chopped
* 2 carrots, chopped
* 2 stalks celery + leaves, chopped + extra leaves if you have them
* 10 cups water or leftover vegetable juices
* 2 cups buttermilk

1) Turn the oven to 400F. Place the ham hocks on a roasting pan and place them in the oven while you prepare the soup. In a soup pot on medium-high heat, brown the bacon, about 8 minutes. Once complete, carefully using a paper towel, absorb about half of the bacon fat, leave the rest for the soup.
2) Add onions, carrots and celery. Sauté 8 minutes with the bacon and bacon fat.
3) Remove ham hocks and add them to the pot (turn the oven off). Add sunchokes and water (or vegetable juices). Bring to a boil then cover and reduce heat to medium-low. Cook until sunchokes are soft when pierced with a fork; 30-45 minutes.
4) Remove ham hocks and bacon, set aside to cool. While ham is cooling, carefully in batches, or with a handheld blender, purée the contents of the pot. Add buttermilk; stir.
5) Pick through the ham hocks and remove any meat, throw it back into the soup. Chop the bacon into bite size pieces, return to pot.
6) Garnish with parsley or 1 Tbl buttermilk.


In the non-food world of WCB, Eat Stuff is with us again. Last week Whiskey terrorized the nation. Today, we find sister Kitty BoJangles, avoiding the chaos in her favorite sunny window… caught red-handed eating my Aloe plant!

Roasted Red Pepper & Tomato Soup (ARF/5 #8)

When I visit friends and family in Chicago I am taken to an inviting Indian restaurant. Upon arrival, diners are promptly brought a sweet, buttery, roasted red pepper dipping sauce accompanied by a basket of steaming nan. I can sit there all night undecided on what to order, finish off a bowl of dipping sauce, and leave happy and fulfilled.

This soup is made with that dip in mind. With the removal of some butter and the addition of some hearty chicken stock, it provides the perfect meal. The natural sweetness of the red pepper is brought to its fullest potential in this dish, taking center stage. It is sweet and beautiful: the black burnt skin adds a stunning accent against the deep scarlet of the soup. It is a healthy dish in these cold winter months. In the height of summer, it is enjoyable cold. For those that crave zest, add a little hot sauce, providing a perfect companion. For something more comforting, an addition of cream or milk provides a thicker consistency.

Red peppers are high in vitamin C and antioxidants while remaining low in calories. In this soup, I made my own stock (bought stock may also be used). I left whole chunks of vegetables in the stock along with chicken. I separated the chicken from the vegetables, adding the vegetables to the roasted red peppers and tomatoes, puréed with everything else. Chicken was returned post-purée to make this extra hearty. The verdict is that this soup is sweet, savory and aesthetically pleasing in the bowl. Served along with a toasted bagel or crispy bread, this is the perfect meal.

ROASTED RED PEPPER & TOMATO SOUP
Serves about 8. Active Time= 15 minutes. Inactive time= 1 hour.
* 4 red peppers, halved
* 4 roma tomatoes, halved
* 1 head garlic, remove cloves from skin
* 1 medium onion, chopped
* 2 stalks celery, chopped
* 2 carrots, chopped
* 6 cups chicken or vegetable stock
* 1 5-oz can tomato paste
* 2 Tbl fresh parsley
* 2 Tbl butter
* 2 Tbl olive oil

1) In an oven-safe dish, arrange tomatoes and peppers skin up. Use a dish that is large enough to avoid overlapping too much. Add garlic cloves. Drizzle with olive oil and put under the boiler for 20-30 minutes. Remove when skin of vegetables is blackened. Using tongs, place red pepper, tomatoes and garlic in a paper bag (rest inside a bowl to catch liquids). Close and let rest 20 minutes to continue cooking. Retain any liquid left in the baking dish.
2) While red peppers, garlic and tomatoes are in the bag, over medium melt butter in a soup pot. Sauté onion, celery and carrots until onion is soft, 8-10 minutes. Add stock and tomato paste; let warm.
3) Add peppers, tomato, garlic and any remaining liquid to the soup pot. Add parsley and bring to a simmer. Carefully in batches using a blender, or with a hand-held cordless blender, purée the soup.
4) Garnish with fresh parsley. Add chicken, cream or milk if desired.

NOTE: If you desire the addition of chicken, and do not have it in the stock, simply cook some up on a pan and add it after the soup is puréed. To keep this vegetarian but add some heartiness, toss chopped mushrooms in with the onions, celery and carrots.

Head on over to Sweetnicks for more ARF/5-A-Day recipes!

Loose Ends Lentil Soup

Soups are an all too easy favorite of mine: they are inexpensive; require little prep; are hearty and healthy; involve few ingredients to make delicious; are easy to alter with a little cream or blender; and are a fabulous way to clean out the refrigerator/ cabinets before a grocery spree. They are a leftover-lover’s dream: make them in large batches and freeze in single-size servings easily to transport to work for a no-think lunch your co-workers will drool over; perfect with some fresh bread.

Once the basics of making a soup stock are understood, whether it is meat or vegetable, there is no limit to one’s soup making abilities: A little less of that here, more of this there, and voilà, a new creation with little effort.

Growing up, a favorite household food was turkey. A golden-roasted turkey my mother would prepare in the late afternoon and have ready for us kids upon our arrival home from school. Friends would join us and we would pass through the door attempting to guess what mom had made. The favorite of mine was always turkey because it meant a whole week of fresh turkey sandwiches. It meant warm turkey with smooth, buttery mashed potatoes. It eventually meant my all-time favorite: soup.

It is from my mother (and of course my grandmother) that I have come to understand the importance of a flavorful soup base. I rarely order soup at a restaurant because I am always terrified of soup stock low in flavor (not enough bones or vegetables as a base) or too salty (covering up for the tastelessness of low flavor).

The Stock:
Although it may seem overly thrifty at the time, you will be delighted with yourself (and your soup creations) if you keep leftover “broth” from vegetables: Boil some beats or potatoes, steam some artichokes, but whatever you do don’t throw that leftover water down the drain—freeze it! That water, no longer clear, but deep crimson, pale green or white, serves as a flavorful addition to your soups (and is full of vitamins). Instead of water, use this as the liquid addition to your soups and you will no longer need bouillon to flavor your base. If you desire a vegetable stock, sauté some onions, leeks, celery, carrots, potatoes, etc. then add the leftover vegetable juice. (A friend of mine has said she cannot stand onion in her soup, a shame because I think this is one of the best stock basics. If you fall into this dilemma I have found extra celery can add a lot of flavor.)

The Meat & Bones of the Situation:
Much of the flavor received in soup broth is derived from bones, more precisely, the marrow-- not the meat (though the meat is a tasty treat). Whether it is chicken, beef, pork or fish stock you seek, the bones are where it’s at. The essence received from marrow that comes into soup is full of flavor, protein and mono-saturated fats (the good stuff that decreases bad cholesterol levels and is thought to lower the chances of certain cancers). Using bones in your soup also produces a rich, thick broth. (Bonus: The butcher or fish market often sells miscellaneous soup stock for cheap.) The great part about using bones with meat on it is that it makes for easy cleaning: the soup is done when the meat falls right off the bone.

For this lentil soup, I cleared out everything that was left in my refrigerator and freezer: leftover oxtail bones, a few strips of bacon, some crimini mushrooms, ½ an onion, a few celery stalks, some carrots, 1 potato, dried lentils, 6 cups of frozen beet juice, 4 cups frozen artichoke-potato juice. The final result was excellent: Super hearty and loaded with flavor. You do not have to clear out your refrigerator, but do make this soup.

The picture is taken after about 1 hour on the stovetop (dried lentils were used, canned lentils will cut down cook time). Another hour later and this soup became thick and delightful: the lentils broke down into a light paste. This soup makes a fabulous meal with a fresh chunk of bread and a bite of sharp cheddar. The chunks of vegetables are full of flavor and the broth is so rich it is a taste from the fountain of youth. Dip your ladle, savor the goodness….

LOOSE ENDS LENTIL SOUP
Makes 8 servings. Prep time= 20 minutes. Cook time= 30 minutes- 2 hours (depending on canned or dried lentils)
* left over beef bones (or beef stock) (about 2 lbs, but whatever you have left is good)
* 5-8 strips of bacon (optional)
* ½- 1 lb crimini mushrooms, quartered
* 1 yellow onion, chopped
* 4 cloves garlic
* 3 stalks of celery, cut into 1-inch pieces. Retain leaves and add to the soup
* 3 carrots, cut into 1-inch pieces. Retain leaves and add to soup
* 2 russet potatoes, cut into 1-inch chunks
* 8-10 cups leftover vegetable “broth” or water
* 1- 5oz can tomato paste
* 2 cups lentils, washed and bad ones discarded
* 3 bay leaves
* 1 Tbl dried oregano
* 1 Tbl dried tarragon
* 5 Tbl hot sauce (optional for an extra kick)

1) In a large soup pot on medium-high heat, brown the bacon. Using a paper towel, pick up some of the fat (retail about 1 Tbl in the pot). Remove the bacon and set aside. Turn heat to medium. Add mushrooms, onion, garlic, celery (plus leaves), carrots (plus leaves), and potato into the pot with the bacon fat. Saute until onion begins to soften, 8-10 minutes. While the vegetables are cooking, slice the bacon into bite-size pieces. Return to pot.
2) Add bones, tomato paste, and vegetable broth (or water), bring to a boil. Add lentils, oregano, tarragon and hot sauce. Cover and allow to simmer (turn heat down if the soup continues to boil). If using canned lentils, cook time is about 30 minutes. If using dried lentils, cook time will be about 45 minutes- 1 hour. The longer the soup is left cooking the more the lentils will break down—cook this longer if a thicker soup is desired.

An interesting bone bite: Archeologists can determine how wealthy a civilization was (relatively) by looking at the bone byproducts. If bones were used as a source of food (cracking bones open and eating the marrow), it is likely meat was not plentiful or a famine occurred. Civilizations rich with food would discard animal byproducts (or use them as weapons or tools).

PS- Happy Birthday to me!.... and Jennifer.

Mushroom Celery Root & Leek Soup

When I spent a semester in Prague, I was jealous of a girl in my program who went to the woods with a Czech family to pick mushrooms. How was I not informed of this journey?! I had a fabulous cliché vision of a Mucha maiden, basket in hand, bonnet in hair, foraging around mossy logs. I attempted to steal away one weekend myself, but was warned of the dangers of picking harmless looking poisons. I remained in the city sulking.

A few years later I met up with family in Latvia. The days were full of sightseeing in and around Riga and visits to the countryside to meet assorted relatives. Nights were another story… Attempting to hold my own against Baltic blood, I confronted 2 straight weeks of vodka soaked nights. I would awake mid-morning to find bottles from the night before stacked by the door. My uncle laughed as he told me the golden rule if invited to a dinner party: one bottle of vodka per person will be consumed, plus one for the hosts to save. I was proud my college days kept me going as long as they did. By the start of the second week I was tired of drinking. “Stacite, no drink?” “NO! Done. No more.” I would go to the bathroom and return to find my juice spiked. One of those hazy mornings my uncle shook me: “I’m going to pick mushrooms, want to come?”

Yes! I want to go! But you fill me with so much vodka, challenging my heritage I cannot move!

So he left, without me, and returned hours later with a full garbage bag size of mushrooms. Fresh—from the market—not the forest. I may still have my chance yet.

I love mushrooms earthy meaty flavor. Raw, buttery, caramelized, fried or in soup, they are a perfect addition to countless feasts. This soup is great because it uses so few ingredients. I took the brain-like ball that is celery root, added my all-time favorite flavor enhancer the leek, and tossed in the protein savory goodness of cremini mushrooms. Cremini mushrooms are also known as brown mushrooms, they are a bit more flavorful than the standard white button mushroom. Once blended, the result is a delicious thick soup with chunks of mushroom. Add cream and it turns into a creamy treat.

MUSHROOM CELERY ROOT & LEEK SOUP
Makes 6 servings. Prep time= 30 minutes. Cook time= 40 minutes
* 1 lb cremini mushrooms, quartered
* 3 leeks, cleaned well and chopped
* 2 celery roots, skinned and cut into 8 chunks (celery root has the consistency of a potato with a salty celery-like edge)
* 1 medium onion, chopped
* 2 stalks celery, chopped
* 4-6 cloves garlic, chopped
* 4 Tbl butter
* 6 cups water (or leftover vegetable juices. Yes, I save vegetable juices)

1) In a large pot, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the mushrooms and allow to cook down, 10-15 minutes, stir occasionally. (While mushrooms are cooking, slice the other vegetables.)
2) Remove half the mushrooms and set aside. Add leeks, onion, celery, garlic. Sauté until limp, about 8 minutes. Add celery root and water (or vegetable juice). Cover, bring to a boil, reduce heat. Simmer until celery roots are soft when poked with a fork (about 30 minutes).
3) Once celery roots are soft, blend the soup. Use a handheld blender (highly recommended) or in batches with a stationary blender. Dish into bowls, pour in 1-2 Tbl of cream or milk, sprinkle with mushrooms that were set aside. Flavor with salt/ pepper to taste.

Savory, Hearty, Chicken Soup

My mother was, and still is, a big soup maker. In the winter, I would come home from school and was hit with the smell of chicken soup (or fresh chili) wafting through the house. My friends loved to come over because of this. Who wouldn't want to trudge home through a cold Chicago winter, fending off the odd snowball, slipping on black ice, welcomed by a bowl of steaming soup?

At school, we would decide which house to go to afterward: "Well, what's your mother making for dinner?" I don't know, there is probably some soup, though. "Okay, let's go." Sure enough, the first question out of my mother's mouth was whether we wanted a bowl. Second question: with noodles, rice or both (and sometimes matzah balls were listed). We would scramble upstairs to the loft, enjoying our Saved By The Bell. Seconds later, a tray full of hot soup with oyster crackers and a cup of cold milk was served. If the soup was too hot, I would add the milk to my soup, creating creamy delight.

In my house, extra broth was always frozen and incorporated into later soups, or warmed when my brothers or I fell ill. I still follow this trend of always keeping frozen, serving size containers of soup around-- they are great to bring to work for lunch, in a pinch at mealtime, or to gift to a sick friend. And now, I have added to my own soup madness: I freeze vegetable juice, to incorporate into my soups. I know, this sounds strange, but it is a fabulous flavor booster for the soup maker. Consider this: when steaming artichokes or boiling beets you hold the remnants of a fabulous vegetable bouillon.

What do you do? Usually, it is thrown down the sink. Or perhaps incorporated into a salad dressing? I hate seeing that good juice go to waste. Instead of down the drain, my vegetable juice goes into a large container in the freezer, all mixed up: beets, artichokes, carrots... When I make soup, I toss 1-2 frozen juice containers into the mix, voilà: vegetable bouillon. Combine this with some succulent chicken and you have an amazingly tasty meaty soup broth that is extra hearty and full of otherwise wasted vitamins.

This soup is sure to keep you healthy for the remaining winter. The smell along will heal you with memories of youth. I made mine so hearty that rice, noodle or matzah ball has no place to fit. The secret in soup, like braising, is to let it cook as long as possible. It is done when the meat falls right off the bone (making cleaning a cinch).

Another hint to make soup-making easy: when I buy carrots and celery I cut it all into sticks when I bring it home and store it in tupperware, in water, in the refrigerator. I also save the leafy top of the celery stalk to throw into my soups. This makes snacking on these vegetables quick and easy, and further cutting a breeze.

SAVORY CHICKEN SOUP
Makes about 12 servings, 14 quarts. Prep time= 20 min. Cook time= 3+ hours
* 2 lbs whole chicken with bones, the bones hold the flavor in broth. You can buy whole and cut the chicken into pieces or purchase already separated.
* 2 Tbl butter or olive oil
* 1 large white onion
* 3 cloves garlic
* 5 celery stalks, cut into bite size pieces (include celery leaves and any extra if you have them)
* 5 carrots, cut into bite size pieces
* 1 turnip, cut into bite size pieces (a turnip provides soup with a slight sweetness)
* 2 parsnips, cut into bite size pieces
* 1 tomato, cut in half (my mother would always discard this before serving the soup, she said it collected the fat. I don’t know if this is true, but it must add flavor)
* 4-6 bay leaves
* 1 Tbl of any or all of the following: fresh ground pepper; thyme; oregano; basil; celery seeds; or any other tasty green herb
* 6 cups beet juice or leftover juices from other vegetables (if none is available substitute water)
* water (fill a 16 quart pot about 1-inch under the rim)

1) In a 16-quart pot, on medium heat, melt butter. Add onions, garlic and chicken. Brown the chicken about 8 minutes on both sides.
2) Add remaining vegetables, herbs and juice/ water. Cover and bring contents to a boil (will take about 20 minutes). Turn heat down slightly, crack the lid, allow to simmer for 3+ hours. The longer the soup simmers, the more flavor will escape from the bones.
3) Remove bones and celery leaves. Season with salt and fresh pepper per serving. Add rice, noodles, matzah balls, crackers, etc.

Czech Carrot Ginger Soup

I spent the first semester of my senior undergraduate studies abroad. It is an experience I wish onto everyone. It was a fabulous semester where I met amazing people, learned a new language, ate things I never considered before, and truly grew wiser as a person-- as well as girth. Most people have heard of the freshman 15 (where one has the tendency to gain 15 lbs their first year of college). I lost it. I lost a lot more than 15. But I gained 15 back when I spent my semester abroad.

Throughout my first three years of school I knew I wanted to study abroad. But where? France would allow me to brush up what French I had forgotten from high school. London was... well, too easy, I could already speak the language. And then there was Prague: A mythical city that I knew little about. I had some Czech blood in me. I would be close to Latvia, an opportunity to visit some relatives I had never met. And well, it was an unknown.

Prague is a fairytale city built on a hill, complete with two castles to call home. A light mist encircles the city at most hours, cobblestone streets greet walkers, and architecture-- amazing architecture, from gothic to art nouveau to modern to rustic is everywhere. Art is everywhere. The city is breathtaking. The people are amazingly friendly (especially for a country that has had the short end of the stick for so long). The food is fabulous. The beer is the best. And there are hidden treasures for the right kind of explorer.

I met some of my best friends in Prague. It was with these new friends (some American and some local Czechs) that I explored the city. And Prague is a city for youth. It is friendly monetarily for the student (we were eating 4 course meals for $10 and drinking some of the best beer (ehem, pivo) we had ever had for $0.25!-—which might not be the best thing for a student to have access to and making it all the easier to gain 15lbs.) There is a current that hits the student, the traveler, the explorer, keeping one out on the prowl at all hour-- it can be more entrancing than New York.

It was in Prague that I broke my 6 years as a vegetarian. I arrived and was offered (more or less) to eat tomatoes, cucumber and fried cheese for 4 months, or dine on wild rosemary boar, cheese infused kielbasa, goulash with bread dumplings, chicken stuffed with ham and cheese… I thought I should take advantage of the situation. I happily broke my meat fast with bacon-crusted lamb (though my stomach did not forgive me for a while).

There were few restaurants that we could recall the actual name of. We were taking Czech language classes, could read signs, and understand what we ordered (most of the time). More often we called an establishment by the beer they served. Our local favorites included Velvet (mm their goulash!), Staropramen, Gambrinus, Rebel, Radegast, Kelt (with the above mentioned wild boar), Krušovice…

There were two restaurants we could recall the names of. One was U Homera or “At Homer’s”. Rather, “at Homer Simpson’s,” where one could order the Milhousova or Margini Syr and other foods based on characters from the popular television show. There was also Portabella Roads. Remembered because it had an English sign out front— and it was across the street from our favorite breakfast place: “Bernard”-- where we dined on “ghost fingers” and drank Bernard Dark).

It was here, at Portabella Roads that I had carrot soup. Amongst countless delicious items (we went there weekly) it was the carrot soup that was ordered religiously. Sweet, buttery, and succulent, it would have been perfect as a meal on its own (but we were gluttonous students amazed at how far our dollar traveled).

It was the fall semester I spent in Prague. It would have been around this time that I made my post-semester travel plans, packed my things and said naschledanou to my fellow students. And it is now that I miss that carrot soup. I long to descend into the hidden Portabella Roads and enjoy the warm buttery soup with a cold beer. I long to return to my fairyland and walk the cobblestone streets to visit Kafka’s house up at the castle, walk the Charles Bridge into the old section, back to the secret garden T and I found, visit Frank at the old castle, and gaze at Shiele’s originals. I would head out to the Bone Church in Cesky Krumluv to marvel at the structure or visit B’s family in the south. This country is a marvel to have been part of. To be there is to be touched by legend. Now, I am a little closer; though miss it all the more with this carrot ginger soup.

I came up with this recipe on my own, hoping to mimic the simplicity of what was had in the Czech Republic. To reach the original, I think less to no ginger would be appropriate (but it is pretty darn good with the ginger). Also, the original soup probably had more butter-- but I lost those 15lbs I gained and don’t really desire their return. So here is my version of my Czech favorite (best if served with an ice cold, 25 cent, Krušovice.

CARROT GINGER SOUP
Serves 4. Prep time= 10 min. Cook time= 30 min.
3 Tbl butter
2 lbs carrot, sliced
3 shallots, whites only, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
3 Tbl fresh ginger, crushed
3 garlic cloves, crushed
1-1⁄2 Tbl thyme
1⁄4 cup fresh parsley
1 pint cup heavy cream
4 cup low sodium chicken or vegetable broth
salt/ pepper to taste

1) Melt the butter over medium heat in a soup pot. Add shallots, onions, garlic and ginger. Sauté for 5-10 min until onions soften and smell filters into home.
2) Add carrots, thyme, fresh pepper to taste, and broth. Cover and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and remove lid slightly. Cook until carrots are soft.
3) Once carrots are soft, remove from heat, add parsley. Using a handheld blender , puree the soup (or use a regular blender and puree in batches). Add cream and stir. Add salt to taste.

NOTE: You can add water to thin soup out to desired consistency. Also, be warned your new kitten may attempt to attack your soup. He thinks the ginger smell is alive.

Curried Butternut Squash Soup

I have found that many of my friends love food: They love to talk about it, they love to cook, they love to swap recipes, but mostly, they love to eat it. When we have nothing better to discuss, or when tempers brew, we turn to food to cool the flames (which inevitably leaves us arguing about the best way to prepare such and such). The great thing about his though, is that many a cookbook, many a recipe, and many a fabulous meal is passed between us.

A few winters back in December, the weather was cold and biting. I was invited to an intimate dinner by my good friend, A, who had a roommate that was trying a new soup recipe. Not one to turn down an invitation, especially one that involved soup, I jumped the subway for the 45 min commute to the cozy Brooklyn apt (this was when A and her roommates were saving money and found a great deal where they could also score amazingly cheap produce). When I arrived, there was a blast of warmth and the intoxicating smell of curry. E spouted off her newfound recipe and how easy it was, "so simple! Only four ingredients." It was not much later that we were breaking crusty bread and digging into this savory soup. The night continued and I cannot remember what else we ate-- possibly one of A's infamous salads? Regardless, it was the soup bowls that were literally wiped clean to indulge in every last sweet drop.

But soon it grew late and I had to make the trek back to Queens. I bundled my layers on, wrapped my head tight and copied the precious recipe soon to be had countless times in the future. Most recently I made it for D when I first saw butternut squash available at the market. D's reaction was much the same as mine upon first tasting: The bowl was licked clean. I brought leftovers into work the next day only to be hovered around while I ate the soup and "X" smelled the goodness, drooling for a bite she would not receive (sorry).

I am making this soup now, for a pre-feast whet of the Thanksgiving appetite. I offer advice: Please get yourself a handheld blender(cordless is optional). Especially if you enjoy soups that are blended (as I do) it makes the process worlds easier. Today I used a Cuisinart (I am in at my mother's for T-giv). Yes, classic Cuisinart, I love you, but you are the devil when I need to ladle hot soup into your bowl and I am forced to puree in 3 rounds. When I am home, I stick my lovely cordless handheld blender into my large vat of soup and voila, minutes later I have the perfect consistency with little hassle (it's also a great instrument to use when making smoothies). But with no further ado:

CURRIED BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP
Makes 6 servings. Active time= 30min. Total= 1.5 hr
1 good size butternut squash
1 Granny Smith, or other tart apple, peeled and chopped into cubes
1 medium white onion, chopped
2 tsp curry
1 Qt, 4 cups, low-salt chicken or vegetable broth

1) Preheat oven to 425F. Cut the squash in half lengthwise, deseed (keep the seeds in a small bowl). Place facedown on a baking sheet and bake for 40min.
2) Rinse the seeds and lay out on another baking sheet, sprinkle with salt and bake 10-15 min (while the squash bakes). Remove and set aside.
3) While squash is baking, in a saucepot on medium heat, sauté the onion and apple, 10-15 min with a dab of butter or oil. Add the curry and stir. Turn the heat down to keep warm.
4) Remove the squash from the oven when done. Carefully (it is hot) peel the skin off the squash-- it should come off easily. Cut into cubes and add to the pot.
5) Turn the heat back up to medium, add the broth and let simmer 20min.
6) Puree the soup in a blender (or with a fabulous handheld one). Dish out, sprinkle with seeds, serve with crusty bread and enjoy the sweet nutty flavor.

Roasted Tomato Soup

This summer I grew a measly tomato garden. My poor excuse for a front yard (a 10 ft x 10 ft patch of weeds and malnourished dirt) is obstructed by a large tree and receives little light. So I did the next best thing and planted 5 large plastic tubs with fresh, nourishing dirt, the little tomato plants I had started inside, and stuck them on the small cement walkway between my house and my neighbor's which receives barely more light. They grew slow and I would walk down my block to gaze longingly at other gardens. These other gardens contained plump bulging specimens of peppers, zucchini and tomatoes. There were so many tomatoes in one garden, that the older man who lives there (I have often seen him working in his garden) set a basket of his ripening tomatoes on his windowsill that overlooks his garden, grabbing at them as desired. I would poke my fingers through his chicken wire, attempting to touch the magic, hoping some of it would rub off onto my hands and into my tomatoes.

Not that I am a bad gardener. I am quite good. As a child, this was the route (the plastic tubs) I took to growing my own garden on the small, sunny porch off my bedroom. (I lived in front of woods and often lost crop to deer and other foragers until I moved my garden upstairs.) But the key is sunlight, which I receive little of here on my Astoria plot. So little light, I have contemplated growing lights and moving the whole operation indoors.

This summer was not only a battle with the sun or the intense heat it was the meddlers-- the squirrels and neighborhood hooligans who think stealing a young woman's homegrown tomatoes is funny business. I would stare out my window at the few reddening globes, debating whether to pick it before the squirrels got their chance. I would say, "one more day," and would walk outside the next morning to find my prize had disappeared. The neighborhood hooligans, I now suspect, are not teenagers, but older women. I say this because I saw one just yesterday stealing some of my mums from the front patch. I was so befuddled that I could not even knock on the window to alert her to my watching. I could not believe someone's grandmother was stealing my mums and stuffing them quickly into her plastic bag purse. Was this the same woman that walked by a few months earlier while I was tending my tomatoes, paused and said, "oh, what beautiful tomatoes you have my dear"?!

But I still love tomato soup with some good cheese and bread on the side (grilled cheese even) for dipping. This recipe is a perfect spicy garlic-basil blend that smells amazing while cooking and goes well with a glass of wine (I had mine with an inexpensive, but good, Mondavi Merlot). Never be afraid to make too much soup. After eating, I like to store mine in single serving size tupperware and freeze them. When I'm going into work I grab some fruit, whatever soup is handy, stop by the bakery for some fresh bread and there is lunch. The soup is frozen so it does not escape the container and tastes even better warmed up. Plus, whomever is nearby that can smell the creation always asks where it was purchased. Sorry, this is homemade, and they walk away sulking.

ROASTED TOMATO SOUP:
Serving Size: 6; 1 hr
3 lbs (about 9 medium sized) tomatoes, quartered and stemmed but not deseeded
12 large garlic cloves, peeled and whole
1/4 cup + 2 Tbl ev olive oil
1/4 cup good balsamic vinegar
1 large white onion, chopped
2-1/2 cups lightly packed fresh basil
1- 15 oz can unsalted/ unseasoned tomato sauce
kosher salt/ fresh ground pepper to taste

1) Preheat oven to 450F. In a pyrex baking dish (or other non-reactive baking dish), lay out the quartered tomatoes, pour 1/4 cup olive oil and the balsamic vinegar over the top, and sprinkle the garlic around the mixture. Dust with salt/ pepper to taste. Bake for 45 min, uncovered, until tomatoes begin to blacken in spots.
2) After 30 min of the tomatoes baking, warm a large pot over medium heat on the stovetop. Add the 2 Tbl ev olive oil and onions when warm. Sautee for 10 min until soft and clear. Add fresh basil and allow to wilt, about 2 min.
3) Add the tomato sauce and roasted tomatoes with juices to the pot. Turn up heat slightly and allow to simmer 10 min.
4) With a handheld cordless blender (or regular blender), puree the mixture until smooth. Return to heat and simmer another 10 min.
5) After dishing into bowls for serving, you can add a little cream or milk to cool the soup down and make it a little creamy. Alternatively, this would be good with a little goat cheese added to the bowls. Add a fresh basil leaf as garnish. Serve with good crusty bread, good cheese, some olives and a glass of wine.