Italian Wedding Soup

"Contrary to popular belief, the way to a man's heart is not necessarily through his stomach.  His nose can be equally susceptible..." – Peter Mayle, from French Lessons






One brief step into the house of where a good soup is being made reveals much much more than the house with no soup.  The house of the soup has been transformed for at least one evening, until gradually, perhaps overnight, the memory, along with dynamic smells, disappear, and the eaters (smellers) must wait for the next hopeful batch.  This last week I went on a good soup cooking frenzy: Hunter's Minestrone (from Tyler Florence's very useful home cook book Tyler's Ultimate) sunday, and later in the week a pot of Italian Wedding Soup.  Of the two, the Minestrone was a heartier,  more

Wedding Soup

stew-like concoction, stocked full of sausage and very robust rigatoni pasta.  The Italian Wedding, on the other hand, was surprisingly pungent and filled the house, for at least a night, with a dreamy European pizazz.  I picked this recipe because the chief trio of components – the cheesy turkey meatballs, the wonderful ditalini

Ditalini

pasta, and the escarole – would literally "marry" well together and would be eaten by adult and child alike.  The recipe asks for meatballs that are made of ground turkey hand mixed with a 1/4 cup ricotta cheese, some pesto, and another 1/4 cup of grated parmesan.  These ended up an excellent choice.  The heaviness of the cheeses were nicely supported by the lighter type of meat.  There is no doubt that any fully marbleized beef could have sufficed, but the soup kept some lightness about it because of the meat choice, and then further, the short pasta, and then the head of escarole that dominates in a very

Escarole

good way each spoon full.  The base of the soup is a standard mixture of onion and garlic, but with a solid dash of Italian seasoning and salt to taste.  It was at the point where the "upper" and the "lower" portions of the soup merged that created the very marriage that the Wedding Soup is named after.  The title doesn't really have anything at all to do with the ceremony that one might assume, but instead it refers to the very thing that the cook finds out: the meatball, greens, pasta and broth serve as a wonderful meal in one.  This fine marriage is the nose of the soup, at once cheesy, green, meaty and enticing.

Weeknight Cooking
Red Lentil Burgers

More and more I lean toward red lentils as a hearty red meat alternative.  It might be impossible to ever replace the reality of the well executed beef burger (our own grocery store has recently picked

up a very good grass fed beef brand which, with very little manipulation, were truly notches above any other beef source we've had in years), but it doesn't seem a bad idea to try.  In fact, this red lentil recipe ends up carrying what I would describe as a more dynamic all around texture than its beef counterpart: carrot, onion, panko, and cilantro (optional for us anyway), are all added.  The recipe calls to pick through, rinse and boil the red lentils, setting them aside and mix later into a sautéed pan full of onion, one finely diced carrot, garlic and cumin.  Add to this, for the sake of adhesion and texture, 1/2 cup of whole-wheat panko bread crumbs, an egg and the cilantro.  Create patties and refrigerate in order to cool the recently cooked lentils and allow a shape to seal.  Cook the patties around 4 minutes per side – a fairly quick deep brown forms to something quite like the look of a good hash brown.

Add onto a favorite style of bun a combination of greek yogurt mixture – a dash of lemon, more cilantro if desired, salt and pepper – then land on a bed of spring greens.  As I tasted my own prepared yogurt sauce I felt it was a bit plain, so also added a pre-prepared dollop of edamame and red bell pepper hummus, which matched very nicely the earthy qualities of red lentil burger.  The overall burger is quite flavorful and healthy.  The brief introduction to this particular recipe sums up the use of the red lentil in such a way that makes these burgers a worthwhile investment, "Red lentils are coveted for their relatively quick cooking time, high levels of cholesterol-lowering fiber, energy-providing iron and fueling protein."

Rutabaga & Carrot Soup

What to do with a rutabaga?  The brief description to the Williams-Sonoma Soup of the Day recipe for Rutabaga & Carrot Soup mentions that these otherwise known "yellow turnips" often get ignored because people just don't know what to

do with them.  Yet they are sweet and very flavorful when roasted.  "Paired with carrots and allspice, they simmer into a delicious soup."  Rutabagas have that sort of taste that might remind you not just of your grandmother's kitchen, but your great grandmother's kitchen, and in that right it's one of those throwback foods that remind you of old time kitchen gardens, pickling, root cellars or a summer breeze flying through a screened-in front porch.  I'd go a step further and say that anytime roasted vegetables are called for in a recipe – roasting chicken and vegetables is a fairly common recipe – one cut-up rutabaga might turn a standard vegetable dish into something much more surprising and authentic.  This recipe calls for two rutabagas and four carrots chopped and roasted on a sheet until tender.  When done, they get dumped into a prepared soup base of a sautéed yellow onion, garlic and, importantly, a

good 1/2 tsp. of allspice. Add at least five cups of vegetable broth, a chopped up tomato and let it simmer for 25 minutes.  At this point this soup is brothy at the top and chunky at the bottom so I

assume that if a cook wanted to leave it like this it could be fine.  But the recipe calls to puree the soup in batches in a blender, then pour this back into the warm pot to adjust its brothiness if chosen.  I blended the soup not quite to a full puree, leaving some noticeable chunks of carrots and rutabagas, then added some water to loosen a bit more.  This is ultimate comfort food. A pinch of pepper over the top or maybe even a squeeze of honey...the rutabagas add a very robust but not bitter or too bold taste to the more neutral flavor of the carrots.  

Lemony Red Lentil Soup
With Fried Shallots

"I have never approached cooking as a technical endeavor – following recipes to the letter or strictly adhering to measurements...I learned the beauty of cooking this way from the best – my mother.  Season your food to your liking, and enjoy the process of preparing it for the people you love most..."
–Rawia Bishara, from Olives, Lemons & Za'tar



Olives, Lemons & Za'atar is one of the more inspiring cookbooks I've read, as it brings to pages a new and colorful world of spices, beans, and grains, full of non-technical (but soulful) expertise.  The rich bounty of the Middle Eastern Market comes to full life in a particular snapshot of Bishara's

kitchen at famed Tanoreen in Brooklyn, in which a row of spices are set to the cook's reach much in the same way a painter's paint might be – a pinch of this, a dash of that, color here, time for zest, more texture, etc.  I have found in my own home cooking over 20 years Bishara's secret above, that to cook for instinct as much as prescription, is as good of an end goal in cooking as any other could be.  If, after years of cooking soup, for example, your family

has provided feedback that they like lentils or vegetables still firm in soup, then you might not necessarily cook a particular recipe as long as it suggests; if, on the other hand, all the above is preferred soft, even mushy, then you can adjust accordingly.  Less cumin, more coriander, steep the lemon juice or let it skim over the top...?  The cook is always of at least two minds: how might I like the dish I am cooking; how might they like the dish I am cooking.  Make it look inviting. Let bold flavors hint, not bully.  In this, the simple family style recipe of Red Lentil Soup, found on the Williams Sonoma weekly recipe app. was a nice exercise for the home cook.  The recipe asks to begin with a full yellow onion, sautéed in oil.  Depending on how long the soup is to cook, I sometimes

The slight heat of red pepper flakes avoided in this batch of soup

change the whole onion to half: I like plenty of onions, but do they?  Not always.  Add cumin, coriander and red pepper flakes to cook.  A pinch of each of these can be fine once all has reduced down its appropriate sauce, but too much red pepper, for example, might turn an otherwise positive grin to a secret growl.  At this point, add one cup of red lentils.  As Olives, Lemons mentions several times, lentils "after soy beans, they have the highest protein content of any vegetable and are also fiber

packed."  I wonder, as I go on to stir the pot for the next 40 minutes, if cooked lentils might not be added to many more meals as an easy way to pack-on a non meat protein?  Add the broth, diced carrots, one peeled, seeded and chopped tomato, some salt along the way and the soup base is complete, now time to simmer until desired tenderness.  Along the side, I made a panini out of chopped ham, turkey and mozzarella, clumped together in a pile and spread out over a grain bread spread by a combination of mayo and a honey mustard dressing (but only enough mustard to hint). At this point, the recipe calls for pureeing in a blender, then moving back to the pot in order to add fried shallots and then the lemon, but I skipped this part, seeing that the soup had a perfect texture just as it stood, and knowing that raw fried shallots were going to look more like a warning sign than an invitation. I added more water to the soup to loosen and added a final twist of a half lemon for pure zest. Forty minutes later a complex yet very edible family soup, inspired by Middle Eastern family soul food, and prepared to our liking.

Weeknight Cooking: Foiled

After years of following a particular recipe for chicken in a foil packet – chicken, mozzarella, zucchini, and tomatoes – it dawned on me this time around that this type of meal could become not

only easily personalized but could become its own sort of regularly prepared subgenre...the sky is the limit.  The standard recipe called for a chicken breast to be split open and stuffed with mozzarella cheese, which is then set on aluminum foil and piled over by sliced zucchini and tomatoes, splashed with olive oil, seasoned, then wrapped and cooked.  In its own right, this a good family style meal – the ingredients end up quite soft, the vegetables

more as textural support to chicken that stands out as soft and cheesy.  Yet, I wondered, why not marinade the chicken first in a tangy vinaigrette to deepen the flavor? This time I chose our deli selection of chicken breasts instead of the pre-wrapped.  These tend to be thicker cut and provide one edge that is conveniently wide to cut and stuff with cheese.  I took my roll of fresh mozzarella, cut it into quarter inch slices, soaked them in olive oil and some leaves of fresh basil, then placed them in the chicken.  Spray a foil sheet with olive oil, place the breast down on center, and pile with virtually any vegetable.  I chose zucchini again, both yellow and green, a few stalks of asparagus, sliced roma

tomatoes, then slipped one small dice of garlic over the top for aroma.  I could see small button mushrooms being a great addition; baby carrots; even a few green beans, maybe all drizzled with honey and a mere dash of mustard instead of the marinade for next time.  In a 400 oven, our five packets took about 45 minutes to become perfectly cooked.  The fewer the vegetables, or the thinner the chicken breast, the less time.  The foil cover protects the chicken very well and it would be hard to imagine a combination that would ever come out as dry as, say, a grilled version can sometimes produce.  With a side of simple rice, the packets are little adventures to open up, to see and smell.  This would also be a

very easy style of meal to allow the children of the house to create on their own, virtually piling in the ingredients, wrapping, baking, and opening within an hour's time.

Weeknight Cooking:
Going Homemade

"A well-stocked pantry helps you think creatively about how to feed yourself, and anyone who happens to be with you, a thoughtfully prepared, flavorful, and wholesome meal, without expending very much time or effort. I've come to realize that it's the way I use my pantry, more than any individual ingredient,, recipe or technique, that defines my personal cooking aesthetic."
                        – Alice Waters, from My Pantry



Reading through some of the first pages of the new book by Alice Waters (essentially founder of the West coast farm to table movement) stirred up the revelation that for the somewhat serious home

cook, a good next step in home cooking is to (try to anyway) evolve from the more obvious stage of actually cooking most of your meals with as fresh of store bought items as you can find, to gradually making as many of your own ingredients as possible.  I thought about a recent batch of chicken alfredo pasta, a very simple and well-received meal in its own right, but that no

doubt could have become more personalized, flavorful, creative and expressive with only a slight bit more planning and investment in time.  The recipe called for two jars of alfredo sauce, a pasta of choice (farfalle recommended), some more parmesan to top, slightly seasoned chicken breasts, some peas, a pinch of garlic, all baked to a proper consistency.  The secrets to this simple recipe is not to overcook the pasta in boiling water, but leave el dente; to choose seasoned chicken things over chicken breasts; to choose the brightest peas available.  Yet I wondered, what would happen with this meal if Waters's advice had been followed?  What – the home cook comes to consider more and more over time – happens to the process of meal-making as it becomes more personalized?

I would first begin by making my own pasta next time: I would choose the herb pasta 'penne' attachment for my pasta machine and perhaps add diced dashes of parsley (grown from the herb

garden) or season with a favorite spice of parmesan herb.  I might then pan fry or even roast the chicken thighs seasoned again with the parmesan herb seasoning in a bed of carrots and red onions.  As for the cheese, even though I know a good local Wisconsin cheese is very easy to find, why not make my own?  Other pasta cheese and cream sauces call for a variety, including cheddar,

goat, or parmesan. Maybe a single variety, pre-made and properly stored, would be a perfect way to top the homemade pasta. As the fine chefs at Blackberry Farm in Tennessee suggest about cheese-making, "Thankfully, anyone who wants to experience the alchemy of cheese making needs neither a cheese aging room nor an extended calendar.  With a handful of simple ingredients and a few hours over a weekend, you can create your own miracles of transformation in the form of fresh cheese."  So, what do we have here?  Nothing wrong with the commercial recipe admittedly, yet now the pasta

is a richer, softer and more flavorful version than the boxed farfalle, seasoned by a grown herb which is then mirrored by an addition onto chicken thighs, and submerged by a cheese of choice that is likely far less preserved and more creamy. Pick peas that shine and hold up to a bake. It is at this point that the full transaction of the meal is offered – in this version, there is pride, explanation and offering.  If done well, there is the request to make sure it is a weeknight repeater.

Weeknight Cooking: Moo Shu Pork

The great dilemma to work out when considering whether to make your own version of Moo Shu Pork is whether to make it all, or just make that simple call to the nearest Chinese Take-Out, pick it up in 12 minutes, bring it home and dig in.  For the past decade we have chosen the more simple of the two options but last night I decided to follow what looked like a fairly easy recipe out of the Food Everyday: Fresh Flavors Fast cookbook.  I've been working with pork loin a lot in recent months – I

find that it is a very flexible form of meat, and almost always comes with good results – so figured that this was a recipe worth while.  In my haste and confidence, I made one initial mistake with the loin that ended up not being a mistake at all: the recipe calls to cut the raw pork loin first into strips, then to eventually fry it in a pan.  When I got my own pork loin home from the grocery store, I visualized a different process and placed the two loins at the bottom of a slow cooker with some seasonings, a mere pinch of water and a small slab of beef stock for flavor and let it sit there for nearly two and a half hours.  It turns out that I was still able to cut the loin down into strips, but that it took obviously a lot less time in the pan; instead I went for the necessary browning for texture and flavor.

As I assembled the rest of the prescribed ingredients, I had at least two main goals in mind, and both were linked to how we have enjoyed the Moo Shu take out in the past: I wanted the pork loin to stay moist and maintain its semi-shredded shape; and I wanted the entirety of the dish to cling together so it is easy to spoon onto the eventual tortilla.  Both of these goals were mostly met.  Before the vegetables were placed in one pan to cook, four eggs are to be whipped and cooked on medium heat, no

stirring, to create a round layer, to then roll up into a log and cut into slender shreds.  As for the rest of the vegetables, diced mushrooms are cooked along with some grated fresh ginger to create the base of the taste, and then one half of a head of cabbage is placed along with that, as are the chopped scallions, then pre-cooked pork and on top (I found this to be a good strategy for maintaining texture)

the cut egg roll.  It was the 1/3 cup soy sauce, and the 1/4 cup rice vinegar, though, that came to hold the dish in the pan together.  These liquids not only broke down the chopped cabbage, but kept the cut pork loin steamed and moist.  I simply waited for the cabbage to fully break down and the dish was essentially set. From this point, the main difference I found between my own creation and the take out, is that the take out had always still been a bit gummier, and certainly more sweet.  Although we

placed plum sauce on top of the dollops of the Moo Shu pork for the sweetness, if I were to make this again, I would place some in the pan beforehand to add that extra layer of inherent flavor.  Our own grocery store simply didn't sell the thin pancakes that go so well with the per usual take out, but the recipe did call for the alternative of small tortillas, which did hold the liquidy Moo Shu quite well.  In the end, what this version lacked in sweetness and gumminess of texture, we gained back in crisper textures and likely higher quality meat.  If it's Chinese you need in a hurry, this isn't the choice to make.  With time, however, this is a fun and well-received recipe that could be tweaked in many directions depending on tastes.

Sweet Potato-Corn
Chowder with Avocado

The weeknight family soup recipes that have worked best for me tend to be at least one tier up in quality from any pre-packaged version, but yet efficient and without a long cooking time.  This one, out of the great Soup of the Day by Williams-Sonoma, is just that – a family edible soup that really only takes thirty minutes

total cooking time.  This one begins as an onion and chicken broth base that builds mainly by three other components. First is the corn itself. The recipe doesn't call for it, but I would love to see, next time, the 8 ears of fresh corn cut from cobs grilled, seasoned, and perhaps sprinkled with some good cojita cheese before placed into the soup

broth (at the very end, if cheesy).  Second is the potato. Although this simple 30 minute recipe is a corn chowder, the corn actually takes a side seat to the easy-to-success sweet potato, diced and simmered, eventually, until softened.  The third component is avocado, simply diced and placed over the top of the chowder at the very end for a cool texture and

color contrast.  The rest is the subtleties of added flavor: garlic, cumin, coriander, finely diced red pepper, cilantro (if chosen; I skipped it because we don't generally like it here), and a dollop of sour cream (also optional).  What takes a bulk of the heating time is really the sweet potato, at around 20 minutes to soften – I also make sure to only gently stir when the cubes are at risk of turning to meal if prodded too much.  To make the soup a bit more hearty, I also happened to add around 2 cups of dumpling noodles which really did turn this from a veggie soup into a more robust, filling one.  The true test is nothing less than whether the bowls are willingly emptied or whether there needs to be reminders.  Because the three main building blocks of this recipe are all quite neutral, it makes for a perfect family selection, and one, I have been asked, to become a 'repeater.'