Pasta and Potato Soup

“I’ve never met a carb I didn’t like” was how I was going to begin this entry, but the word “never” triggered a bout of self-reflection. “Strong language, Cor. Are you sure you want to go on record with that?” So I spent a good (*embarrassing number of minutes that is higher than whatever you think it is*) thinking about my history with our food friends of the starchy persuasion, my #carblyfe if you will, and I have to confess a few exceptions:

• Chinese mooncakes, which I’ve only tried once and am sure there are better versions of
• Anything from Subway, get it away from me (see also: why even?)
• Okay that’s all

why

The origins of why this soup and why now are twofold. When I arrived in the office on Thursday there was a little brown box waiting on my desk, a gift from some of my coworkers, who are better and kinder and cooler than I could ever deserve. In the box was the most perfect present of all time, a gleaming gold farfalle suspended from a chain, just waiting for me to spend the rest of my life with (and probably be buried in) it.

Dear necklace, I'm farfalleng for you.

See, I like to think I eat pretty healthily. My food is typically made of, uh, food, and vegetables make up a large percentage of my daily diet. I’ve made a hobby of my veg-devotion, and I care not a whit how played out you think kale and Brussels sprouts are. Ours is a deep relationship, and one I will always cherish. But one never really gets over one’s first true love. And if you know me, you know my first love goes by the name of Noodle. My coworkers’ acceptance, nay celebration of this love means so much to me.

The logic was clear from there. I have this farfalle necklace, thus I must make a farfalle soup. I started digging around for some In-ternet-spiration this morning for soups featuring large pasta shapes and came across this rather unassuming recipe written in the most self-effacing British manner (“You know better than I what to do with the garlic,” etc). I kept poking around in other corners, but knew I was sunk: the premise of pasta and potatoes together was too tempting to not be realized.

According to that article, this is Italian peasant food. Every time I've made something described as such, it's been delicious. Peasants may by definition not have much, but they sure do have a fabulous track record in the recipe department. 

The other reason this was perfect for today: I needed something indisputably hearty to propel me up The Ladder, an annual civic engagement tradition amongst friends meant to fête the impressive redevelopment and growth of downtown and Over-The-Rhine. (Okay, it’s a bar crawl, but a very uplifting and chill one and the only one I would ever espouse. It was unfortunately taking place at the same time as the “Onesie Bar Crawl,” a wholly undignified affair that made us feel quite secure in our vast superiority with regard to both maturity and responsibility.)

Proof of The Ladder's wholesomeness - even for babies!

With the above considerations, this soup was inevitable. The potatoes and pasta make for a pleasing base, but where this turns from satisfactory to gimme-more is with the drizzle of good olive oil, proper pile of romano and generous dusting of freshly ground black pepper. They’re the perfect accessories to intensify the simplicity of the flavors without overwhelming – nothing to challenge the palate here but a whole lot to like. Luckily, this soup is so filling that the gimme-more feeling is about your next spoonful, and not seconds, per se. One bowl of this and you’re set (and happy) for hours.

Peasant food: basically zero ingredients.

And just to not leave bread out of the action, I thinly sliced some ciabatta and crostinified it. You may think that sounds like overkill, but you’re dead wrong. This mushbowl, delightful as it is, is in want of some crunch – and in this case no other crunch would do.

This soup is the culinary equivalent of a heavy down duvet that you don’t have to share with anyone so you can burrito up and let the feathers squish into all your crannies. It’s safe and feels familiar — although I’ve never quite had anything similar before — because it’s pure and simple comfort food. And let me tell you, eating pasta and potatoes and bread all at once? It feels like getting away with something on the level of having peach pie a la mode for breakfast (in bed). Honestly? Honestly? It tastes like freedom.

But I understand that sometimes we all need a little justification for such flagrant disregard for clean eating, particularly early in the year while the ghosts of New Year’s resolutions are still rattling their chains (I assume the ghosts are what’s making my Fitbit vibrate at me, no?). As my own gentle vindication, I’ve crafted the following proclamation. Feel free to adapt for your own use whenever expedient.

WHEREAS, it was 13 degrees outside when I walked home from the market; and

WHEREAS, I not two days hence returned from a hemisphere where it was summertime; and

WHEREAS, sometimes a grown woman has to do what she knows in her soul to be correct;

NOW THEREFORE, I, Corrie Loeffler, humble eater in Cincinnati, Ohio, do hereby proclaim February 3 as GET OVER YOURSELF AND EAT YOUR CARBS DAY.  

Mark your calendars for February 3^rd, 2019: You’re invited to my carb party.

Pasta and Potato Soup

Serves 6 reasonably or 4 generously

Adapted from Rachel Roddy's recipe

6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 carrot, small diced

1 stick celery, small diced

1 small yellow onion, small diced

1 clove garlic, minced

1 sprig of rosemary

2 medium russet potatoes, peeled and diced

1 piece of parmesan rind

5 cups water + 1 cup vegetable or chicken broth (I used Better than Bouillon no-chicken base)

3 ½ cups dry farfalle (or pasta shape of choice)

grated pecorino romano

freshly ground black pepper

more olive oil

Note: I know it seems like a lot of olive oil, but it’s necessary to achieve a nice silky texture in the final product. For the finishing drizzle especially, it’s important to use a good quality olive oil since the flavor will be changed when it hits your tongue.

Heat olive oil over medium heat and add carrot, celery, onion and garlic with a pinch of salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are soft and onion is translucent, 8-10 minutes. Add rosemary and potatoes and stir to coat potatoes in olive oil – cook another few minutes. Add water, broth and parmesan rind. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat to simmer until potatoes can be smashed with the back of a spoon – about 10-15 minutes depending on the size of your dice. Spend some time breaking up a good amount of the potatoes so you have a nice, thick, creamy soup.

Add pasta and cook until al dente – mine took about 11 minutes. Serve with a drizzle of olive oil, lots of freshly ground black pepper and a hearty pile of grated romano.