Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat
Page 24
Soup
Beethoven once said, “Only the pure in heart can make a good soup.”
Oh, that guy—what a romantic! But clearly, not much of a cook. While I agree that a pure heart is an ideal attribute for any cook, it certainly isn’t necessary when making soup (though a clear mind certainly helps).
Soup is exceptionally easy to make. It’s also economical. But all too often, it becomes an easy way to clear out the fridge. You must have a reason for every ingredient you choose to add into a soup in order for it to taste good. Get into the habit of making soup with the fewest—and most flavorful—possible ingredients, and you’ll find it’s so delicious it might even purify your heart.
Soups fall into three categories—brothy, chunky, and smooth—and each will satisfy a different kind of hunger. Though each type calls for different elements, all soups start with a flavorful liquid, whether it’s stock, coconut milk, or bean-cooking broth. Master one soup from each category, then let taste and whimsy guide your clear mind and your pure heart in making delicious soup.
Brothy soups are clear and delicate, perfect for serving as a light meal or appetizer, or to an ailing friend with a meager appetite. With only three or four ingredients, there isn’t much in a brothy soup to distract the palate from an inferior broth, so wait to make this kind of soup until you have homemade stock on hand.
Chunky soups, by contrast, are robust and rich. Make a pot of chili or Tuscan bean soup and let it fill and warm you up all week long. With longer ingredient lists and cooking times, there are more ways to build flavor in a chunky soup, so here you can start with water if you don’t have homemade stock on hand.
Smooth soups will lie somewhere between brothy and chunky on the spectrum from light to hearty, depending on the main ingredient. No matter what vegetable or root you use, though, the result will be smooth and elegant. Smooth, puréed soups make for delightful dinner party first courses, or light lunches on warm summer afternoons.
The formula for any puréed soup is simple. Start with fresh, flavorful ingredients. Then cook a few yellow onions through, add the chosen ingredients, and stew everything together for a few minutes. Add enough liquid to cover, bring it up to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook until everything is just tender. (Anticipate the way the greenest vegetables will fade and brown if even slightly overcooked; pull English pea, asparagus, or spinach soup off the heat a minute before it’s done, knowing the residual heat will continue to cook it. Add a few ice cubes to speed up the chilling.) Remove from the heat, purée, and adjust the salt and acid. Then choose your garnish. As paragons of simplicity, puréed soups eagerly welcome crunchy, creamy, acidic, and rich garnishes alike. Use the list of variations on page 278 for inspiration.
Brothy: Stracciatella Roman Egg Drop Soup
Makes 10 cups (serves 4 to 6)
* * *
9 cups Chicken Stock
Salt
6 large eggs
Freshly ground black pepper
3/4-ounce chunk of Parmesan, finely grated (about 3/4 cup), plus more for serving
1 tablespoon finely chopped parsley
Bring the stock to a simmer in a medium pot and season with salt. In a measuring cup with a spout (you can also use a medium bowl), whisk together the eggs, a generous pinch of salt, pepper, Parmesan, and parsley.
Pour the egg mixture into the simmering stock in a thin stream while gently stirring the soup with a fork. Avoid overmixing, which will cause the eggs to break up into tiny, unappetizing bits, instead of the stracci, or rags, for which the soup is named. Let the egg mixture cook for about 30 seconds, then ladle the soup into bowls. Garnish with more Parmesan, and serve immediately.
Cover and refrigerate leftovers for up to 3 days. To reheat, gently return soup to a simmer.
Variation
• To make a Classic Egg Drop Soup, simmer 9 cups of stock with 2 tablespoons of soy sauce, 3 sliced cloves of garlic, a thumb-size piece of ginger, a few sprigs of cilantro, and 1 teaspoon peppercorns for 20 minutes, then strain into another pot. Taste and adjust salt as needed. Return the broth to a simmer. Place 1 tablespoon cornstarch in a medium bowl and add in 2 tablespoons of the stock. Whisk to combine, then whisk in 6 eggs and a pinch of salt. Drizzle into simmering broth as directed above. Garnish with sliced scallions and serve immediately.
Chunky: Tuscan Bean and Kale Soup
Makes about 10 cups (serves 6 to 8)
* * *
Extra-virgin olive oil
Optional: 2 ounces pancetta or bacon, diced
1 medium yellow onion, diced (about 1 1/2 cups)
2 celery stalks, diced (about 2/3 cup)
3 medium carrots, peeled and diced (1 cup)
2 bay leaves
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
2 cups crushed canned or fresh tomatoes in their juice
3 cups cooked beans, such as cannellini, corona, or cranberry, cooking liquid reserved (from about 1 cup raw; feel free to use canned beans in a pinch!)
1 ounce freshly grated Parmesan (about 1/3 cup), rind reserved
3 to 4 cups Chicken Stock or water
2 bunches kale, thinly sliced (about 6 cups sliced)
1/2 small head green or Savoy cabbage, core removed and thinly sliced (about 3 cups sliced)
Set a large Dutch oven or stockpot over medium-high heat and add 1 tablespoon olive oil. When the oil shimmers, add the pancetta, if using, and cook, stirring, for 1 minute, until it just begins to brown.
Add the onion, celery, carrots, and bay leaves. Season generously with salt and pepper. Reduce the heat to medium and cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are tender and just starting to brown, about 15 minutes. Dig a little hole in the center of the pot, then add another tablespoon of olive oil. Add the garlic and let it sizzle gently until it gives off an aroma, about 30 seconds. Before the garlic has a chance to brown, add the tomatoes. Stir, taste, and add salt as needed.
Let the tomatoes simmer until they cook down to a jammy consistency, about 8 minutes, then add the beans and their cooking liquid, half the grated Parmesan and its rind, and enough stock or water to cover. Add two immoderate splashes of olive oil, about 1/4 cup. Stirring occasionally, bring the soup back to a simmer. Add the kale and cabbage and bring to a simmer again, adding more stock or water as needed to cover.
Cook until the flavors have come together and the greens are tender, about 20 minutes more. Taste and adjust for salt. I like this soup to be very thick, but add more liquid if you like a lighter soup. Remove the Parmesan rind and bay leaves.
Serve with a drizzle of the best olive oil you have on hand, and grated Parmesan.
Store covered in the refrigerator for up to 5 days. This soup also freezes exceptionally well for up to 2 months. Return the soup to a boil before using.
Variations
• To make Pasta e Fagioli (Tuscan Pasta and Bean Soup), add 3/4 cup uncooked ditalini, tubetti, or other small pasta shape along with the beans. Stir frequently, as the starch released by the pasta is apt to form a crust on the bottom of the pot and burn. Cook until the pasta is tender, about 20 minutes. Thin out with more stock or water as needed to desired consistency. Serve as directed above.
• To make Ribollita (Tuscan Bread, Bean, and Kale Soup), add 4 cups Torn Croutons when the soup returns to a simmer, just after you add the kale and cabbage. Stir frequently, as the starch released by the bread is apt to form a crust on the bottom of the pot and burn. Cook until the bread has completely absorbed the stock and fallen apart, about 25 minutes. There should be no distinct pieces of bread at the end—instead, it’s all just one delightfully tender mess. Ribollita should be very, very thick—at Da Delfina, my favorite restaurant in the Tuscan hills, it’s served on a plate!
Smooth: Silky Sweet Corn Soup
Makes 10 cups (serves 6 to 8)
* * *
I’m a firm believer that the best cooking is not so much about fanc
y techniques and expensive ingredients. Sometimes the tiniest—and most inexpensive—thing will make all the difference. Nothing demonstrates that idea as well as this soup, whose secret ingredient is a quick stock made using nothing more than cobs and water. Use the freshest, sweetest summer corn you can find and you’ll see how five simple ingredients can add up to a singularly flavorful soup.
8 to 10 ears corn, husks, stalks, and silk removed
8 tablespoons (4 ounces) butter
2 medium yellow onions, sliced
Salt
Fold a kitchen towel into quarters and set it inside a large, wide metal bowl. Use one hand to hold an ear of corn in place upright atop the kitchen towel—it helps to pinch the ear at the top. With your other hand, use a serrated knife or sharp chef’s knife to cut off two or three rows of kernels at a time by sliding the knife down the cob. Get as close to the cob as you can, and resist the temptation to cut off more rows at once—that’ll leave behind lots of precious corn. Save the cobs.
In a soup pot, quickly make a corn cob stock: cover the cobs with 9 cups water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes, then remove the cobs. Set stock aside.
Return the pot to the stove and heat over medium heat. Add the butter. Once it has melted, add the onions and reduce heat to medium-low. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are completely soft and translucent, or blond, about 20 minutes. If you notice the onions starting to brown, add a splash of water and keep an eye on things, stirring frequently, to prevent further browning.
As soon as the onions are tender, add the corn. Increase the heat to high and sauté just until the corn turns a brighter shade of yellow, 3 to 4 minutes. Add just enough stock to cover everything, and crank up the heat to high. Save the rest of the stock in case you need to thin out the soup later. Season with salt, taste, and adjust. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 15 minutes.
If you have an immersion blender, use it to carefully blend the soup until it is puréed. If you don’t have one, work carefully and quickly to purée it in batches in a blender or food processor. For a very silky texture, strain the soup one last time through a fine-mesh sieve.
Taste the soup for salt, sweetness, and acid balance. If the soup is very flatly sweet, a tiny bit of white wine vinegar or lime juice can help balance it out.
To serve, either ladle chilled soup into bowls and spoon salsa over it to garnish, or quickly bring the soup to a boil and serve hot with an acidic garnish, such as Mexican-ish Herb Salsa or Indian Coconut-Cilantro Chutney.
Variations
Follow this method and the basic formula I described above—about 2 1/2 pounds of vegetables or cooked legumes, 2 onions, and enough stock or water to cover—to turn practically any other vegetable into a velvety soup. The cob stock is unique to corn soup; don’t try to replicate it when making any of the variations. Carrot peel stock won’t do much for a soup!
And there’s no cooking whatsoever required to make Chilled Cucumber and Yogurt soup! Just purée seeded, peeled cucumbers and yogurt, then thin with water to your desired consistency.
Turn the page for some some soup-and-garnish combinations to inspire your soup-making.
BEANS, GRAINS, AND PASTA
Cooking beans, whether dried or freshly shelled, is as simple as can be. In fact, the basic recipe for Simmered Beans can be summed up in one short sentence: Cover with water and simmer until tender.
While fresh shelling beans can cook in about 30 minutes, it can take several hours for dried beans to transform into their most tender selves. To reduce the cooking time, soak them overnight.
I’m a tireless champion of soaking beans in advance. And since one measure of any properly cooked starch is whether or not it’s absorbed enough water to become tender, think of soaking as a head start. It’s the easiest kind of cooking you’ll ever have to do.
When soaking beans, keep in mind that 1 cup of dried beans will triple in size when cooked, yielding about 6 servings. Add a palmful of salt, and a generous pinch of baking soda, which will tip the pH of the pot toward alkalinity and help coax even more tenderness from the beans. Soak beans in the same vessel in which you plan to cook them, to save yourself a dish, and either refrigerate or keep in a cool spot on the counter overnight (or over 2 nights, for chickpeas or big, creamy beans such as gigantes).
Once cooked, consider beans a blank slate, ready to be transformed into whatever you like. Properly cooked and seasoned dried beans, garnished with nothing more than a dousing of extra-virgin olive oil, are a revelation for most people, including those who consider themselves to be bean-haters. And, as with most foods, a showering of chopped fresh herbs or a spoonful of Herb Salsa never hurts.
Beans and eggs are a classic pairing. Crack eggs into a shallow pan of beans in their liquid and slide it into a hot oven. Bake until the whites are just set. Garnish with feta cheese and Harissa and serve with warm, crusty bread for any meal.
Beans, more so than most other starches, will happily share the plate with a second starch. Rice and beans, matched together in almost every culture’s cuisine, are especially delicious in El Salvadoran cooking, where they are cooked together into a crispy cake known as casamiento; in Cuban cooking, where they are called Moros y Cristianos; in Persian cooking, where they come together in Adas Polo; and of course inside a classic rice and bean burrito. In Italy, beans join bread in the soup known as Ribollita (page 275) and pasta in another called Pasta e Fagioli (page 275). And in any kitchen, anywhere in the world, creamy beans have perhaps no better foil than crunchy, golden, Sprinkling Crumbs (page 237).
I once brought a simple salad of dried cranberry beans tossed with macerated onions, toasted cumin seeds, feta cheese, and cilantro sprigs to a lunch honoring the groundbreaking vegetarian chef Deborah Madison. Even though the table was laden with impressive dishes made by all of the other accomplished cooks at the meal, I continued to receive requests for the recipe for that “amazing bean salad” for nearly a year.
Any beans, not just chickpeas, can be turned into a delicious hummus-ish spread by puréeing them with abundant amounts of olive oil, garlic, herbs, chili flakes, lemon juice, and also tahini, if you like. Adjust the salt and acid, and serve with crackers, bread, or just sneak spoonfuls, like I do.
Mash cooked beans together with softened onions, herbs, an egg, grated Parmesan, and enough cooked rice or quinoa to bind the mixture, and fry little patties to serve with a Yogurt Sauce, Harissa, Charmoula, or any Herb Salsa. Top with a fried egg for a perfect breakfast.
Freeze extra cooked beans, in ample water, to later defrost and slip into soups.
And finally, while canned beans cannot compare in flavor to beans you cook yourself, the convenience they offer is unparalleled. I always keep a few cans of chickpeas and black beans on hand, just in case a feverish hunger strikes.
Three Ways to Cook Grains (and Quinoa)
Steam
Every time I see all the fancy rice makers lined up on the shelf at an Asian grocery, I convince myself that I need one. After all, I do eat a lot of rice, and the machines are all so cute! Then I snap out of it. For one thing, I don’t have the space for another kitchen machine. And, more important, I already know how to cook rice!
My theory is that marketing geniuses have planted false seeds of rice-making despair in the minds of home cooks around the world. Think about it: rice is one of the oldest cultivated foods on the planet. If cooks hadn’t figured out how to make it properly, I’m fairly certain the human race wouldn’t have made it.
It’s really not so hard. Steaming is my preferred way to cook rice for weeknight dinners, because it’s quick and simple, yet the grains have the chance to absorb the flavors of the cooking liquid.
Find a variety of rice you love to eat, and grow comfortable cooking it, over and over again. My standbys are basmati, jasmine, and a Japanese variety called haiga, which is milled to preserve its nutritious germ yet cook quickly. As with everything, the more often you cook rice, the more profici
ent you’ll grow to be. The most important variable when cooking rice is to get the right ratio of liquid to grain.
Basmati and jasmine rices are traditionally both rinsed multiple times until the water runs clear, but for a typical weeknight dinner, I don’t usually bother. Save the rinsing step for dinner parties.
Refer to the following chart for liquid-to-grain ratios and remember the rule of thumb, 1 cup of uncooked rice will serve 2 to 3 people. Simply bring your chosen liquid—water, stock, and coconut milk all work well—to a boil, season it generously with salt, and add the rice (or quinoa, which I like to cook the same way).
Reduce to a very gentle simmer, cover, and cook until the liquid has all been absorbed and the grains are tender. Let it rest covered for 10 minutes after you turn off the heat. And, apart from risotto—which is an entirely different story—never, ever stir rice while it’s cooking. Just fluff it with a fork before serving.
Simmer and Stir until Tender
Steel-cut and rolled oats: Bring very lightly seasoned liquid to a boil, add oats, turn down to a simmer, and stir continuously until tender.
Polenta and grits: Add polenta or grits in a thin stream to boiling, seasoned water while whisking. Stir continuously and cook until tender, about an hour, adding more water as needed. Adjust seasoning and stir in butter and grated cheese before serving.
Arborio rice for risotto: First, mince and cook 1/2 yellow onion per cup of rice in butter until soft and translucent, then add rice and toast until golden brown, then deglaze with 1/2 cup white wine. Stirring continuously, add stock gradually in 1/2-cup increments, waiting until it’s been absorbed to add more. Cook until rice is tender but still al dente. The consistency should be that of thin oatmeal, so thin with stock or a splash of fresh wine if needed. Adjust seasoning and finish with finely grated Parmesan. Serve immediately.