curried broccoli soup with spiced cashews

I have to admit that I'm not much one for checking the weather. I like to know what's going on, but normally I only get to watch short bits of the Today show when I'm getting dressed or eating breakfast. As often as not, I gauge what I should wear based on what the folks outside in the plaza are wearing, since my office is right next door.

It was merely a coincidence, then, that I made this warm and toasty soup just in time for the east coast's big winter storm. A few weeks ago I got a few new organic spice mixes at Whole Foods. The curry powder sat on the shelf for a while before I decided to use it on my kale.
The first bite was delicious, and stirred a little memory down deep inside. After a few bites the half formed feelings of comfort and warmth start to resolve themselves. Something sweet was missing. Something smooth and creamy.

A vision flashed in my memory, a grey rimmed, well used, sturdy off-white plate with a generous serving of bright yellow, raisin studded curried rice. A special treat that Mom fixed in frequently. So good it made broccoli palatable, in my youthful opinion. I always ate my vegetables first, and saved the best for last.

The image of Mom's curried rice, nestle along side spears of broccoli bumped around in my head enticingly until I saw Liz's broccoli soup. A little spice, a little sweet, and a little crunch makes for a great serving of vegetables. And even though I had no idea the storm was coming until the boss called Sunday evening to close the office for Monday I was sure glad I had something warm and toasty.

Curried Broccoli Soup

*I apologize for the lack of pictures, we are experiencing technical difficulties with the camera

1 large yellow onion, coarsely chopped
6 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
2 bunches of broccoli, florets and stems chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
3-4 cups broth or stock
2 tablespoons curry powder
salt
3/4 cup
golden raisins

Spiced Cashews

1 cup cashews, chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp
turmeric
1/2 tsp garam masala

Pour olive oil in a large skillet or saucepan and add onions and garlic. Turn heat on low and slowly saute until onions are translucent. Add broccoli and increase heat to medium, stirring occasionally until broccoli is bright green and tender. Transfer about one quarter of the broccoli mix to a blender or food processor and add 1/2 cup stock and puree until smooth. Transfer to a sauce pan and blend the remaining broccoli and stock in batches. Place soup back over low heat, add the raisins, curry powder and salt to taste. Simmer for about five minutes, adding more broth if you want a thinner soup.

While soup is simmering heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a heavy skillet. When oil is hot add salt, turmeric and garam masala, stirring to make a paste. Stir in the cashew pieces and make sure that they are completely coated. Continue to cook over medium heat, stirring constantly for 5-7 minutes, until cashew just start to brown. Remove from heat and allow to cool for several minuntes.

Serve soup garnished with spiced cashews.

roasted onion soup

When I was in college I belonged to the caving club. I was a WUSS*. Yes, I suited up in old clothes, put a helmet and light on my head and headed underground, towards the center of the earth. I'm not crazy, I come by this naturally, both my parents were active cave explorers when I was younger and I was underground long before I could walk. There's something so peaceful when it's just you, in the dark, with the living rock. In the Earth's womb.

But I digress, in the cold winter months there wasn't much caving going on in Ohio, even Southern Ohio. The highlight of those frigid weeks, when the ground was iced over and the sun was down long before classes were finished was Wednesday night caving club meetings. The faculty advisor was an old friend of Dad's and I had known he and his wife my whole life. The same was true for some of the other non-student members. Every week after the meeting some of us, the adults and officers, would go out for dinner at one of the local chain restaurants. Each week we went to a different place, but the need for warm comforting food was always the same. So many Wednesday nights I ordered French onion soup; warm, flavorful and decadent with molten cheese.

We had a frigid day and fairly significant snow, and walking home through the clear, crisp, chilly night I was overcome with a need to recreate that pungent soupy comfort. I've never made an onion soup before, but I do have lots of onions in the house and using the oven is a great way to add a little extra warmth to our little apartment. If roasting works for garlic I figured it would work just as well for onions. And I was right! I can think of so many flavor variations for this warm, comforting base

*WUSS stands for Wittenberg University Speleological Society. We used to say that "you have to be brave to be a WUSS"

Roasted Onion Soup

1 large yellow onion
5 shallots
1 bunch scallions
3 cloves garlic
2 tbsp olive oil
3 cups broth or water
salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 350° F. Have the onion and then slice it, same with the shallots, cut scallions into 1/2" sections and chop garlic. Toss chopped onion and garlic with olive oil and spread in a heavy baking dish. Bake for 45 minutes, stirring halfway through, until most onions are dark brown. When the onions come out of the oven immediately pour 1 cup of broth into the pan and scrape all the drippings from the bottom. Pour broth and onions into a sauce pan and add remaining 2 cups broth. Heat soup and add salt and pepper to taste.

To serve like french onion soup ladle into 3 or 4 oven safe bowls, top with toasted bread, croutons or roasted garlic biscuits and grated Gruyere cheese. place bowls on a baking sheet and place under the broiler or back into the oven until the cheese is melted, 7-10 minutes.

roasted tomato soup

It's cold outside. And it snowed for the first time today! At least it snowed for a few minutes while I was out an a little expedition. Even after a short walk outside, I wanted something smooth and warm and comforting.

I don't even know what made me decide to make a tomato soup. I remember the Campbell's commercials with the tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich, or goldfish crackers, or whatever. But we shunned tomato soup in our household. I always felt that tomato soup was just pasta sauce that wasn't trying hard enough. The fact that I don't think I've ever had a bowl of classic tomato soup before does seem kind of silly given my adoration of all things tomato.

So I set out to make my own version of tomato soup. And is absolutely hit the spot when I got home, rosy cheeked and pink nosed with my little bag of booty.

Roasted Tomato Soup
serves 4

6 vine ripe tomatoes
1 large red pepper
1 onion
3 cloves garlic
3 cups broth or stock
1 sprig rosemary
1 sprig thyme
3 leaves sage
olive oil for sauteing
salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 400° F and line a baking sheet with foil. Cut tomatoes and red pepper in half and arrange skin down on the baking sheet. Bake for 45 minutes. Remove from oven and set aside to cool. While the tomatoes are cooling, chop the onion and garlic, saute in a large skillet on low heat with a little olive oil until onions are translucent. Place onions and broth in a medium size sauce pan. Carefully remove skins from roasted tomatoes and pepper, putting the meat into the saucepan with the broth and onions. Add spices and simmer gently for 30 minutes. Puree soup in a blender until smooth, being careful with the hot liquid. Return to pot and taste for salt and pepper.

Serve warm, garnish with creme fraiche, yogurt, pesto or croutons.

fennel leek soup for a fall day

Today was a perfect fall day. Not a Perfect Day, per say, but a perfect FALL day. My all-knowing iPhone told me that it was mid-fifties with a chance of rain. I threw on my long sweater, left the Trainer in bed and left to meet a friend in Manhattan.

As I stepped out the front door onto the front stoop I was greated by a grey sky and blowing mizzle. As my father and Mel Gibson would say "good Scottish Weather".

The trees across the street were spectacular, some like the Ginko, already changed and dropping their fruit, smelling of butyric acid and dinosaur times. Others still green with tops afire.

I gleefully crunched through the piles of crisp brown oak leaves piled high around the playground. The frisky wind that blew wet spatterings in my face chased the fallen leaves round and round in an endless game of tag.

When I reached the train station my ears were slightly cold, my nose was slightly red, and my eyes were bright with pleasure. This is a perfect day indeed. Perfect for staying close with friends. Perfect for a mug of mulled cider after a brisk walk. Perfect for a heart pot of filling soup.

Fennel Leek Soup

1 buld fennel
3 medium leeks
3 cloves garlic
3 cups broth or stock of your choice
1 tsp dried whole thyme
olive oil
salt
fresh ground pepper

Wash the fennel and leeks. Discard the bottom of the fennel bulb and cut off any bruised or brown parts. Cut off the base of the leeks and seperate the "leaves" to clean out all the dirt. Discard any bruised or dried out sections.

Coursely chop the fennel, leeks and garlic. You can save some of the fennel fronds for a garnish if that's your thing, or chop up all the fennel.

In a medium sauce pan with a little olive oil saute the chopped vegetables until the leeks are bright green.

Add stock and simmer until vegetables are tender.

Puree in a blender in batches until the soup reaches your desired consistency.

Return soup to the pot, add thyme, salt and pepper to taste. Simmer to allow flavors to meld.

This soup base is perfect for any type of addition. You can add yogurt to make it creamier of for protien: chicken, turkey, suasage or tofu. And it's great hot or cold.

autumn, or anatomy of a squash

In the Michigan of my childhood the crisp air and turning leaves of October could only mean one thing: Halloween.

A trip to my elementary school’s gym, parents in tow. The terrifying basketball court turned, for an evening, into a pumpkin patch. Neat orange rows from hoop to hoop. The annual pumpkin sale.

Three Pumpkins. Every year, three. A tall skinny one for Mom, a big fat on for Dad, to sit on our front steps like Bert and Ernie. Me, hunting, searching, always seeking the Perfect Pumpkin. Odd in shape, a vegetable that spoke to me.

Back home with newspapers strewn across the kitchen floor it’s carving time. First; you have to cut off the top, on an angle of course, and with a notch so it won’t fall in later. Then: scoop out the guts. This is child’s work if there ever was, arms up to the elbow, no- the shoulder, in sticky, slimy, slippery bright orange pumpkin guts.

Mom carved hers with a simple geometric face. Dad tried something imposing. The budding artist agonized over a new, avant-garde pumpkin face each year. Later, I carved all three. One memorable year the huge pumpkin ate the screaming little pumpkin with relish as a strawberry-shaped alien pumpkin watched through green glowing eye slits.

To end the late evening, one of a very few school nights I stayed up late, Mom produced a tray of fresh, salty warm pumpkin seeds. A once a year treats for autumn.

True autumn, for me, began with the carving of pumpkins. As my masterpieces sat on the stoop, the squirrels sampled their flesh, distorting my handy work. The night frosts made the faces wilt and melt, more ghoul-like several days after All Hallows Eve.

sweet squash soup

1 butternut squash
1 sweet apple
1 small onion
2 cups cashew milk or water
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 tsp cinnamon
olive oil
kosher salt

Preheat oven to 350 F

Prepare the squash by cutting it in half and removing the pulp and seeds. Save the seeds from the pulp for roasting.

Lightly oil the cut edges of the squash and place them on a baking sheet. Bake for 30-45 min depending on the size of the squash.

In a heavy pan saute the onions until translucent. Add chopped apple and continue to cook until the apple is very soft.

When the squash is cooked, carefully scoop the flesh out with a spoon.

In a blender puree small batches of squash, apple mixture, and fluid. Put each small batch into a medium size sauce pan.

When all the vegetables are pureed, add the cinnamon and vanilla to the pot. Stir and simmer to combine flavors. Add extra water to change the consistency.

roasted pumpkin seeds

Preheat the oven to 200 F

remove all the pulp from the seeds

soak the seeds in a bowl with salt water

pour off the water and arrange the seeds on a baking sheet

bake for 2 hours and allow to cool.

Slow Food For Fall

I'm a few days late for Naomi's Go Ahead Honey, It's Gluten Free event, but maybe she'll let me slide under the wire. This month's theme is slow food. The slowest food I can think of is my mother's turkey soup. Every Thanksgiving, except one, Mom roasted a huge turkey for our family of three, or four while Nonna was with us. I'm talking 20 pounds, in the oven ALL day, big kinda turkey.

After everyone ate turkey for several days Mom would cut the remaining meat from the bones and boil the bones in her huge soup pot. Th pot stayed on the stove for several days, simmering away. After two days of simmering the bones she removed them from the stock and placed the pot outside on the deck to cool. The next morning Mom skimmed the fat from the surface and began freezing bags or turkey stock.

We always had a big pot of turkey soup made from the last of the Thanksgiving bird, and homemade turkey soup was Mom's answer to all of winters sniffs, sniffles and dark days. Her soups were always peppery sharp and hearty. She added chunks of roast turkey or chicken, onions, carrots, celery, lots of garlic and pepper. Rice got fat soaking up the stock and fresh grated parmesan and pecorino topped these love filled bowls she placed before us.

If that's not slow food, I don't know what is.

I have neither the tools, space, or kitchen time to cook this the way Mom did. Maybe one day I'll have a kitchen of my own, but until then, I can always make Mom's feel better soup like this.

1 bone-in chicken breast, with or without skin

2 white onions

6 cloves garlic

3 stalks celery

1 bunch parsley

1 huge carrot

3 bay leaves

olive oil

fresh ground pepper

kosher salt

In a large soup pot, stock pot slow cooker place the rinsed chicken, 1 onion, 3 smashed cloves of garlic, 1 stalk of celery, 1/2 the parsley and bay leaves. Simmer for at least three hours.

Allow stock to cool, then remove chicken, onion, garlic, celery, parsley and bay leaves. Discard the vegetables.

In a large bowl or on a plate, pick all the chicken meat from the bones, shredding it into small pieces.

Chill the stock and skim the congealed fat from the surface if desired.

Chop the remaining vegetables. Heat a skillet with olive oil and begin sauteing the garlic and onions on low heat. When they are translucent and the carrots and let them sweat, covered, until they are slightly crisper than you would like. Add the celery and continue cooking until the celery is cooked.

Return the chicken and vegetables to the stock, add remainder of the parsley, chopped, and season with salt and fresh ground pepper.

If you can eat rice or grains, add any cooked rice or grain of your choice and serve.

* Mom always cooked the rice separately and added it only at the very end, into each bowl separately. If we stored the leftover soup and rice together, by the next night the rice had soaked up all the liquid and it no longer resembled soup.

**I always loved to add lots of fresh cheese to the left overs, I guess that was me making my very first risotto.