Rose Harissa Tomato Soup with Orzo Salad

The most satisfying food moment of my life thus far shockingly didn't involve soup; in fact, it didn't even involve me eating anything. Adam walked in the door of my condo exhausted after a 10-hour late summer drive from South Carolina, and the words "I made you pasta salad" made tears stream down his sunburned cheeks. He grabbed the nearest utensil (a rather large wooden spoon) and cradled the serving bowl in his arms, and I truly don't believe I'll ever make anyone that happy again. 

Not pictured: tears. But at least in my memory they were real.

That particular pasta salad was quite a nice one, with strozzapreti I brought home from Italy, white nectarines, aged white cheddar, peak-season corn and a mint vinaigrette. But as quite possibly the world's foremost pasta salad devotee, Adam takes all comers, from the bespoke to be-SuddenlySalad. Is there a barbecue? Potluck? Fancy New Year's Eve party? If Adam's invited, so is the pasta salad. Our friend Bryan has even claimed that if you cut Adam he would bleed pasta salad, and he's a real medical doctor! (He's not.)

When it came time to decide (yesterday while wandering Jungle Jim's for two hours) what our first Soupruary night as engaged homeowners would be, it seemed natural to bring our food loves together in one bowl, and to see how long it took for Adam to figure out my plan. Turns out it took pretty much until it was done, but his genuine excitement at the realization was totally worth it. Not post-road-trip level elation, but still pretty cute:

He's very good at this face. 

The flavors in this dish are the result of the revelation that there is someone else like me out there in the world, ladling the soup gospel out one day at a time. For the last three years, a woman named Aidan (whose mom I happen to know) who's been making a different soup every day in January. That's 31 days (so now obviously I'm riddled with shame over the cowardice of choosing February)! I stalked/drooled on her Instagram feed and came across her tomato harissa soup with orzo, which seemed positively destined for the soup/pasta salad treatment. 

I'm pretty delighted with the way this turned out, both texturally and flavorally. The nice thing about cooking with rose harissa is that you can tailor the end result easily to your own spice preferences while resting assured that the layers of deliciousness are there.

And I'd make this same pasta salad on its own, for sure. With brightness from mint and parsley, saltiness from olives and feta, acid from tomatoes and red wine vinegar and crunch from cucumber, it's got pretty much everything you could want. But then I went and added some buttery roasted pine nuts, but not enough for them to be in every single bite, which means your tongue never gets complacent about just how good it has it.  

Oh, also there was soup, obviously. Some whole peeled tomatoes, some grape tomatoes roasted with paprika, shallots, garlic, tomato paste, vegetable broth - all very standard until the last second when the rose harissa goes in. Having that jar is the closest I can get to having a superpower (and yes, I accidentally spelled it souper when I first typed it). It can take a dish from normal to memorable in no time at all, and I'm officially declaring it my favorite condiment (for today; tomorrow it'll probably be like ranch or whatever).

And finally: YAYYYY IT'S SOUPRUARY! IN A LEAP YEAR! LET'S DO THIS THING!

Rose Harissa Tomato Soup with Orzo Salad

serves 4-6

Ingredients

For the Soup

1 cup grape tomatoes, halved lengthwise

1/4 teaspoon paprika

extra virgin olive oil

2 shallots, roughly chopped

1 clove garlic, roughly chopped

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 28-oz can whole peeled tomatoes

2 cups vegetable broth

rose harissa to taste

For the Orzo Salad

1 cup orzo

1/3 cup peeled and finely diced cucumber

1/3 cup finely diced tomato

1 shallot, finely diced

2 tablespoons chopped black olives

1/3 cup crumbled feta

2 tablespoons toasted pine nuts 

2 teaspoons red wine vinegar

1/4 cup chopped fresh Italian parsley 

2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint

rose harissa to taste

Method

Heat oven to 400 degrees F, and toss grape tomatoes with a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper on a rimmed baking sheet. Sprinkle with paprika and toss in the oven for about 20 minutes, or until nicely roasted with pretty coloration. Reserve the four prettiest halves to garnish your soup, and set the rest aside. If you need to toast your pine nuts, add them to the tray for the last 6 minutes of roasting the tomatoes. Don't wash your baking sheet yet - it's got lots of good flavor on it that you don't want to waste!

While the tomatoes are roasting, bring a medium pot of salted water to a boil. Add orzo and cook according to package directions, then drain. Spread the drained pasta on the baking sheet from the tomatoes to dry out a bit, and soak up the remaining olive oil, spices, and tomato juices.

In a large bowl, mix together the rest of the pasta salad ingredients minus the harissa. Once cool, add the orzo and mix. Add rose harissa to taste - I used about a tablespoon here because I wanted to feel it but not spice my family out. Obviously, you should add salt and pepper here if you feel like it needs it, but there's a lot going on so you may not!

Set that aside at room temperature while you make the soup. Pour a glug of olive oil into your pot set over medium heat. Add shallots and garlic, a pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper. Cook until shallots are translucent but not browned, then stir in tomato paste, cooking for an additional minute. 

Add canned tomatoes (don't drain them), breaking them up with your fingers as you go. Add the remaining roasted tomatoes (not the ones you set aside) along with the vegetable broth. Let this simmer for 20 minutes or so, then blend with an immersion blender until very smooth. Stir in rose harissa to taste - I used about two tablespoons. 

To serve, place a scoop of pasta salad in the center of each bowl, then pour soup around it. Garnish with reserved roasted tomatoes and additional feta if desired.