Snow Day Summer Squash Soup

It finally happened. This was the soup that tipped the scale. 

About halfway through his bowl, Logan admitted that soup has now overtaken sandwiches as his very favorite food category.

What a feat! What a coup! I've never felt so accomplished in all my life. Especially considering that this was a stuck-inside-with-no-shopping-options (shoptions?) soup, I'm celebrating hardcore (hard-Cor?) right now. Apparently, necessity is the mother of delicious.

OKAY NO MORE GIFS.

I've recently been known to extol the virtue of using dried beans rather than canned, so the above photo may make me look like a bit of a hypocrite. But sometimes time and convenience outweigh other considerations, and that's where a well-stocked pantry is a genuine virtue. There's also a difference between a recipe that relies on the bean to carry it, and one in which the bean is just one element of many. I mean, this pot has a lot going on in it:

I'm glad that photo exists to remind me I threw in a pinch of crushed red pepper flakes. I'm addicted to them, really. In my mind, there's not much that isn't improved with a little bit of heat, especially when it's snowing outside. But I almost forgot about them here because the real electricity of this soup, the thing that makes you sit up straight and pay attention to each bite, is right here: 

Lemon rind, toasted walnuts, pecorino romano, parsley, peperoncini, olive oil and raw garlic. Pro Tip: This is the perfect soup for a cozy night in, but not one that involves any sort of smooching activities (for those of you who do that kind of thing). My mouth tasted like the Gilroy Garlic Festival for a good four postprandial hours, and man, it was so worth it.

The soup part of this recipe is pretty solid comfort food on its own, but when you float toasty bread on top and start breaking it up with your spoon and stirring that pungent goodness in...oh man. Its enough to make you feel like an alchemist. P.s. I just Google image searched the word "alchemist" and it was basically a visual embodiment of never leaving your parents' basement.

Confession: I've already made a soup involving orecchiette and chickpeas this year. But this one was totally different! And I just can't resist that combo, because the little divot in the pasta that gives it its name ("little ear") is exactly the right size to adorably trap a chickpea. I dare you to look at this perfect legume holster and then suggest there was any other pasta I should have used instead:

Summer Squash, Pasta and Chickpea Soup with Lemony Garlicky Walnut Toasts

Serves four

INGREDIENTS:

For the soup:

1 tablespoon olive oil

1/2 of a small yellow onion, diced

1/2 cup of leeks sliced 1/4" thick, white and light green parts

2 garlic cloves, sliced

1/2 of a red bell pepper, diced

1 summer squash, quartered lengthwise and sliced 1/4" thick

1 teaspoon fresh thyme

pinch of crushed red pepper flakes

1 14 oz. can of garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed

14 oz. whole peeled tomatoes, broken up roughly with your fingers (this is an estimate -- I used about half a 28 oz. can of whole peeled San Marzanos, along with about a cup of the juice)

3 cups vegetable broth or no-chicken broth or chicken broth or whatever you like to put in your body

scant 1/2 cup orecchiette

For the toasts:

4 thin slices of French bread

Extra virgin olive oil

3 peperoncini, stems removed and liquid squeezed out

3 cloves of garlic (or less if you're scared)

1/2 cup flat-leaf parsley

rind from about half a lemon (just the yellow; try not to get down to the white pith)

a few chunks of pecorino romano, equaling about two tablespoons

1/4 cup toasted

METHOD:

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

Heat the olive oil in your soup pot over medium heat. Add onions and leeks and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 5 minutes. Add red bell pepper, garlic, thyme, red pepper flakes and summer squash, along with a pinch of salt and cook for another 5 minutes. Stir in garbanzo beans and cook for 2 or 3 minutes longer. Add the tomatoes with the tomato juice and the broth and bring up to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and add the pasta. 

Meanwhile, make your toasts. Brush a bit of olive oil on to your slices of bread and put them on a baking sheet. Bake them for 8 or 9 minutes, until they're nice and crispy. While they're baking, make your topping. I'd call it a pesto, and I suppose you could, but I kept it rather more chunky than a normal pesto, and it's also less herb-based. Easy-peasy though: Just place all the ingredients in a food processor or food chopper and add some olive oil (I used about 1 tablespoon but you could go heavier if desired), then pulse it up until you get the consistency you want. Remove toasts from oven and heap a quarter of your garlicky toasted walnut concoction onto each one.

By the time your toasts are done, your pasta is probably cooked and you're ready to go! Check for doneness just in case -- the only thing sadder than undercooked pasta is overcooked pasta. When it's just right, divide the soup among four bowls and top each bowl with one of your beautiful toasts and serve immediately.