Roasted Garlic, Almond & Bread Soup

After reading that title, you’re either intrigued or weirded out. Trust me, I understand. I was both of those things when Kelly first linked me to this recipe as we were attempting to decide what to eat during our second SMASH night.

Remind me to learn to take better pictures. It was so much prettier than this.

The weird-out factors are two-fold: 1) almond soup sounds like something you wouldn’t want a whole bowl of, and 2) bread soup. I’ve made a few soups with bread in them before and I know it’s a classic thing to do, but I can never fully get past the “waaaaah, who wet my bread?” reaction. 

Intrigue factors, however, outweigh: 1) oranges and mint in a savory soup, 2) almonds are my second favorite nut, 3) roasted garlic is delectable and 4) it's a Jamie Oliver recipe. Jamie always delivers in the taste department. 

And boy, did he deliver. I mean, I really, really liked this soup. The four of us definitely proved you could eat a big bowl of almond soup, eat the HELL out of it even. It reminded me of one of the things I love most about food—even after eating it for 30 years, tastes can surprise me every day if I get just the tiniest bit brave about it.

The thing that really gives this soup life and keeps it from feeling too heavy is the vinegar--always amazing what a little acid will do.It's got ZING, but the zing doesn't overpower the rest of the flavors. You really taste every element here, and it all totally works. You even taste the bread! But you don't get the soggy bread yuck mess because the whole thang is pureed--the bread just adds a fluffy body to the soup. (Fluffy Body, incidentally, is my pet name for myself.)

Jamie’s recipe called for a “large loaf” of ciabatta. I’m not clear on international ciabatta sizing regulations, but what I got worked out, so I assume a UK large is a US regular. I picked up my regular loaf at this charming local bakery called Panera (shuddup it was Tuesday and it was cold and it was on the way home and their bread is pretty decent). You'll only use the innards of the ciabatta in the soup, which leaves you some lovely, crispy breadskins that are perfect for dipping. (We said "breadskins" a lot.)

If you're even slightly intrigued, make this recipe. It's not going to taste like other soups you've had, and I heartily endorse it. Jamie also notes it can be served cold--and I'm very much looking forward to trying that with the tiny bit of leftover soup I tucked into the fridge.

As a bonus, if you like the sensation (as I do) of popping roasted garlic cloves out of their skins and slipping almond meats out of theirs--it's your lucky day! So much squeezie!

Poor almond carcasses. Never had a chance.

Kelly made some yummy mushy peas with pecorino romano, mint and garlic to start us off. The garlic and mint really made a lovely transition into the flavors of the soup. Good stuff. My pea addiction, though, may be getting out of hand at this point. I doubt anyone would be surprised if I went full Violet Beauregarde at some point.

Mushy!

(Smash was particularly odious last night, p.s. Much groaning and lamenting did ensue. And J-Hud wore the SAME dress in two different colors and totally acted all nonchalant about it like we were all too oblivious to notice it was the SAME dress. DRESSGATE.)

Roasted Garlic, Almond & Bread Soup
Adapted from this Jamie Oliver recipe
Serves 4-6, depending on how reasonable you are about it

GET THIS STUFF

olive oil
1 white onion, chopped fine
3 bulbs of garlic, broken apart but skins left on
1 c raw almonds (or 1 c blanched almonds if you'd rather not blanch them yourself)
1/2 c heavy cream
4 c vegetable broth
2 T unfiltered apple cider vinegar (Jamie recommends sherry vinegar, but I used what I had and it was great)
1 loaf of ciabatta
3 oranges
handful of fresh cilantro
handful of fresh mint

DO THIS WITH IT

Heat oven to 350 F.
Put garlic cloves in a roasting pan and stick in the oven for about 30 minutes, or until squishy.
Blanch your almonds: Place them in a bowl and cover them with boiling water. Let sit for one minute, then drain and rinse with cold water. The skins will now slip off with just a bit of pressure from your fingers. You can also rub the almonds together to get the process started.
Heat a good glug of olive oil in a heavy-bottomed pot over medium low heat, and cook your onions, stirring occasionally, for about 10 minutes.
Add cream and vegetable broth and bring to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for another 10 minutes.
Remove crusts from your ciabatta and tear the inside into rough chunks--set aside.
Remove garlic from oven and let the cloves cool for a few minutes until you can handle them.
Slip them out of their skins and add the roasted cloves to the simmering broth.
Add the torn bread and let simmer until it dissolves into the soup.
Add vinegar and cook another 5 minutes.
Transfer soup to food processor and blend until smooth.

Taste for seasoning, and then serve each bowl topped with orange segments, mint and cilantro.

Leeky Pea Soup

How gross does that sound? hehehehehehehehehe sorry, it's been a long day. 

Some days, work just doesn't...uhh...work. At least not quite the way you think it will. Today was highly productive, but I didn't get anything on my list done until I got back to work around 10pm. On my walk home, I found myself daydreaming about how incredibly nice it would be to go up to Kaze for dinner and let somebody wait on me for an hour or so. But as soon as I stood in front of the stove for a few minutes, I was reminded it was exactly where I wanted to be.

No matter what happens during your day at work, you can can come home and control exactly what happens on in your kitchen. Even if you catch something on fire, you can put it out (so strong and brave!) and pride yourself in what you can salvage (so resourceful!).

The impetus for making this soup was seeing some lovely fresh English peas at Findlay Market this weekend. That reminded me of a Michael Symon recipe for ricotta gnocchi with fresh peas and morels which I'd made/loved once. How to translate that?

I didn't want to get too complicated in the soup form, so I left out the morels. 

Real Talk: there were no morels at Findlay Market this weekend, so I'm pretending I wanted things to be simpler when in actuality I'm addicted to over-accessorizing my soups. I think it's to make up for how lazy I am when it comes to wearing jewelry.

So peas alone it would be, left whole in a fragrant, herb-tinged broth with bits of tender leek fortified with some dry white wine. If you want a taste of spring, you can find it here.

Logan and I tenderly kneaded the dough and rolled out the ropes that would become little crisped, cheesy, lemon-flecked pillows. 

We chilled them, cut them up, and seared them off in brown butter. Then we did both the gnocchi and the soup base a disservice by putting them together. 

I knew in my heart that it didn't make much sense to put seared gnocchi into a broth, but when I get an idea in my head I'm probably going to follow through on it (see also: 4 years of doing this blog). By the end of the bowl, the gnocchi was getting soggy and overcooked, for which I feel I should be disallowed from making my own pastas for at least 6 months.

Here's what I'll say: The ricotta gnocchi (regardless of what the mean ol' soup did to it) should sound good to you. It is. Get Michael Symon's recipe (it's in Live to Cook) and make it, as is. 

This soup should sound good to you, too (if you like leeks and peas). Make it, but don't bother with the gnocchi here. Instead, cook up some little pasta shells and see how fun it is to catch peas in their crevices. In fact, I think I'll be doing just that come March when I'm allowed to cook things I've made before. And if fresh peas aren't available, this would work just fine with frozen peas as well--just reduce the cooking time once you've added them. You'll want to serve it when your peas are bright green and tender, not starting to lose color. 

Where I should have left it!

I just took another little sip of the broth (what was left is chilling in the fridge (so, yeah, I had it cold (gross I know I'm sorry))) just to confirm my suspicion that the star here is the broth. You can make your own using your favorite method, or start with store-bought vegetable broth -- which is the smart option for a Monday night if you're asking me. My habit is to use Rapunzel vegan bouillon with fine herbs--it's a light broth that is very receptive to adapting to the flavors you want. You won't recognize whatever broth you start with by the end, once you've melted down the leeks, added wine and herbs, and finished it with just a little browned butter (not necessary but delicious). 

BTW if I had to guess from what I get most excited about in writing this blog, by the time I'm 35 the entirety of my diet will consist of broth and peas.

BTW if anyone is still reading this far down (apologies), I'm stalling because I totally have more work to do tonight, but it's midnight and I don't wanna. 

ENOUGH.

Light and Bright Pea and Leek Soup

or Leeky Pea Soup if you're 12 like me

(including pasta shells rather than gnocchi)

serves 4 

GET THIS STUFF

extra virgin olive oil 

3 small leeks, white and light green parts sliced and roughly chopped

1/2 c sauvignon blanc  

4 c vegetable broth

2 c fresh peas 

1 sprig fresh rosemary

1 sprig fresh basil

2 sprigs fresh mint

1 c cooked small pasta shells  

shaved Parmesan 

chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

browned butter or more olive oil (to drizzle)

DO THIS WITH IT

Heat oil in your soup pot over low heat.

Add leeks with some salt and pepper and stir around, then cover.

Cook for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until leeks are super soft.

Turn heat up to medium and pour in wine--cook until liquid is reduced by half.

Add broth, peas, rosemary, basil and mint and bring to a simmer.

Simmer for about 15 minutes, until peas are tender, then stir in pasta. 

Taste for seasoning. 

To serve, top with shaved Parmesan and chopped parsley, plus a drizzle of browned butter or olive oil.

Lemony Yellow Squash and Rice Soup

For me, the happiest days are the days both Logan and I are off work, and can spend all day together goofing around, talking and laughing, and making some good food.

 

As today was one such day, I thought it was the perfect time to bust out a recipe recommended by Kelly--a Nigella Lawson recipe called "Happiness Soup."

I don't know if I'd go so far as to carry that name forward--it might carry a few too many expectations. But it sure was a big ol' bowl of sunshine.

This soup gets it's beautiful coloring not just from the squash, but also from turmeric. Besides apparently being a miracle spice that the Internet wants you to put in everything, turmeric is a pretty potent dye for everything from hands to fabric to your counter top. Every time I use it, I seem to spend as long scrubbing the yellow out of my counters as I do cooking. This time, though, I finally mastered the art of not spilling. I felt like I won a race (maybe? I have no idea what that feels like).

This soup comes together really quickly--the only time consuming part is slicing and dicing the squash super tiny. The resulting texture, fortunately, makes the knife work worthwhile.

The citrus aspect of the soup might be the most surprising--lemon does dominate the flavor. I think it would be quite pleasant to add some Italian parsley or cilantro to complement the lemon.

Oh, and I asked Logan what he'd say about the soup; he said, "it was good." So, there's that.

Over all, it's a bright and fairly healthy one-pot meal type of soup with like FIVE ingredients that can be thrown together in half an hour. If you can trick yourself through deft use of summer squash into thinking it's gorgeous out when it's 23 degrees, maybe this really is happiness soup.

For dinner we're making Brussels sprout and ricotta pizza. SOLID FOOD FOR DINNER? I might faint. Happiness Pizza.

Lemony Yellow Squash and Rice Soup

Adapted from some book by Nigella Lawson--not sure which because I just took an iPhone picture of the page in Kelly's book (also an excellent strategy for making grocery lists without writing a word)

serves 4

GET THIS STUFF

soup:

olive oil

18 oz. yellow squash (about 2 large or 3 medium)

1 lemon

1 t turmeric

1/2 c long-grain white rice (I used jasmine, Nigella recommends basmati)

4 c vegetable broth

to serve:

a few slices of ciabatta 

olive oil

1 clove of garlic, sliced

shaved Parmesan

DO THIS WITH IT

Very thinly slice the yellow squash, then finely dice.

Pour a good glug of olive oil in your soup pot and heat over medium low, then add squash and the zest of the lemon.

Season with salt and pepper and cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add turmeric, the juice of the lemon, broth and rice.

Cook uncovered until rice and squash are both cooked through, about 20 minutes.

While soup is cooking, heat oven to 400. 

In a small pan, heat olive oil and add garlic, cooking until garlic takes on just a little color and then taking off the heat.

Place bread on a baking sheet and brush with garlic oil. 

Top with shaved Parmesan, and bake until cheese is melted and bubbly, about 6 to 8 minutes.

Serve soup with a drizzle of the garlic-infused oil on top, and cheesy bread on the side.

If you have flaky sea salt, throw a few crystals on top of the soup as well. Yum!

Fennel Soup with Herb Oil

Springy!

But first things first: My eyebrows are a mess.

I don't mean in the way they're usually a mess, in that I ignore them for a year at a time because the rims of my spectacles obscure them in such a way I forget they exist completely.

Thursday was that one day per annum when they really started to bug me. I decided to stop in and get them waxed on my way home from work, as I wasn't in any sort of hurry. When I went to pay with my debit card, the receptionist informed me that they could no longer add tips on when paying with plastic. In my head I was like IS IT NOT 2013?!?, particularly since I've been going to this particular salon for years with no such policy in place. But instead I sheepishly put forth the two lonely dollars I had in my wallet as a meager tip, promising to tip better next time. 

I proceeded to feel bad about the crap tip for the next few hours, until Logan picked me up to go see some comedy and I forgot all about it. Apparently (dunh-dunh-DUUUUNH) my face did not forget.

As what I can only assume is payback for my perceived stinginess, I now have an ever-increasing line of red bumps everywhere the wax touched my brow line. I'm afraid to even touch it. 

Luckily, my plans for today including hanging out with friends who would never judge me (at least not to my face) for being afraid to put on make-up. Kelly and I went up to Vincent's house for a full afternoon of eating, laughing, and talking about wigs and comedy (same thing, buuuhzigully). Vincent made a full, lovely meal, starting with an appetizer of stuffed mushrooms that he first braised in Warsteiner Dark (brilliant!) and ending with a fluffy pumpkin cake. I, duh, brought a soup.

After two days in a row of cream-based soups, I really wanted something lighter and fresher. When I came upon this fennel soup recipe this morning, and realized it was in a cookbook I'd yet to try anything from (always exciting), I thought it would do just fine. When I got to Findlay Market and saw how cheap fennel was this week ($2 a bulb!), I thought it would do even finer (total cheapskate).

I realized it was probably a bit risky to foist a fennel soup on my friends with no warning--not everyone enjoys it's slightly anisey flavor. But if I can trust them to see me broken out and make-up free, I figured I could trust them to try something different.

For Vincent, turned out this was something very different, as he'd never before had fennel. He seemed to tolerate it alright. Kelly seemed okay with it too. So was I. I've had better fennel soups--in fact, Justine made a better one for this blog! (seriously, check it out; it was divine.)

The herb oil was definitely necessary, and made everything very bright and fragrant. The soup also tasted better when I reheated a bit for a late night snack--the flavors benefited from some time to hang out and integrate, as is predictably the case with a water-based soup. 

I probably won't make it again, but I am looking forward to trying out more recipes from David Tanis's Heart of the Artichoke and Other Kitchen Journeys. I've had the book for quite some time but hadn't really explored it--it's separated into seasons and beautifully tempting menus. It's also a good cookbook for reading, as it's peppered with charmingly-written backgrounds and stories. 

I almost wanted the soup to taste more strongly of fennel, but that could be the fault of the vegetables I selected themselves. I think a bit of white whine to braise the veg could have also been helpful here. 

This recipe makes a lot of soup, so if you decide you would indeed want to make it (and really, I'd recommend making Justine's soup instead), I'd either half it or make sure you've got a lot of people around who like fennel. 

Side note: flat-leaf parsley was nowhere to be found at the market today, so I got some curly leaf for the first time in who knows how long. I kinda liked it, in a weird, Denny's sorta way. My herbs= slummin.

Fennel Soup with Herb Oil

Serves...8?

GET THIS STUFF

olive oil

2 large fennel bulbs, bulbs sliced and fronds reserved

2 small white onions, sliced

4 cloves garlic, chopped

6 c water

1/4 c jasmine rice

For herb oil, place the below ingredients plus salt and pepper in a food processor and blend until smooth:

1/2 c extra virgin olive oil

1 c fennel fronds

1/2 c basil leaves

1/2 c parsley leaves

1/4 c sliced scallions

DO THIS WITH IT

Heat oil in a heavy bottomed pan over medium.

Add sliced fennel, onions and garlic and season with salt & pepper. 

Cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are soft and starting to turn a little golden.

Add water and rice, and cook until rice is tender, about 20 minutes.

Puree with an immersion blender and pass through a fine mesh strainer.

Taste for seasoning (I added more salt here).

Served garnished with a heaped teaspoon of herb oil.

Yellow Pepper Cream

Got this pretty lil gem in just under the wire.

Went to see the Cincinnati Ballet's Romeo & Juliet with some girlfriends tonight, which has to be the most palatable form to take in that annoying story. It's pretty amazing to watch those preternaturally fit people float around the stage. Every time I go to the ballet I'm utterly gobsmacked by what the human body can do. Really makes you want to ingest some heavy cream, know what I'm sayin'?

I stayed late at work and didn't have time to eat prior to the ballet, so it was soup o'clock when I got home around 10:30. At that point you aren't really in the mood to cook or eat anything too big, so this decadent, quick and simple little taste was just perfect. (This blog has become quite a cruel but rewarding master -- I still can't quite believe I made soup at 11pm on a Friday night rather than walk around the corner to pick up a slice of pizza or something. DILIGENCE. DEDICATION. DEVOTION. (actually, let's just call it stubbornness.))

My longstanding favorite lunch in Cincinnati is at Via Vite: a bowl of yellow pepper soup plus a beet/asparagus/goat cheese salad. Perfect every time. I'm such a devotee, in fact, that I made a quite successful soup inspired by the salad a few years back. 

I've made a few attempts at trying to recreate that soup, but never quite get it. This one is the closest in taste-- you get the very essence of yellow bell pepper, basically unchanged. But this one is also much creamier than Via Vite's, so rich that all you can take is about 1/4 to 1/3 of a cup. I don't say that disparagingly; I'd certainly make this for the first tiny course of a menu. It's a beautiful color and it's exceedingly pleasant if you're a fan (as I am) of yellow pepper.

Bonus: You can use orange or red bell peppers if you'd like a different color, or you can call it "capsicum cream" if you want to sound extra fancy. 

This is the first recipe I've tried from the book Ruhlman's Twenty. I love Michael Ruhlman's writing style, having previously read his fascinating books on the Culinary Institute of America and the lives and practices of modern chefs. This book, while definitely a cookbook rather than nonfiction, is nearly as delightful a read. He takes you through 20 essential techniques (including SOUP. it's essential!), engagingly describing the importance, history and uniqueness of each. If you like reading about and thinking about food, it's a fun one to check out.

Yellow Pepper Cream Soup

Adapted from Ruhlman's Twenty

Serves 2

GET THIS STUFF

1 yellow bell pepper

1/2 c heavy cream

kosher salt

lemon juice

to serve: a little grated pecorino romano and some stale cubes of bread fried in a dash of olive oil and salt

DO THIS WITH IT

Seed bell pepper and chop into 2-inch segments.

Put bell pepper in a small sauce pan with cream on high heat. 

Bring to a simmer and turn heat down to low.

Cook until peppers are tender (shouldn't take too long).

Puree with an immersion blender until very smooth.
Add a squeeze of lemon juice and salt to taste.

Pass through a fine mesh strainer into a clean bowl. 

Serve in tiny bowls and top with a crouton and a pinch of romano.

Cream of Walnut Soup

I think I have a new favorite dessert.

YEAH RIGHT JK SOUP WILL NEVER BE ICE CREAM.

But seriously, while it may not look like much, this is one of my favorite things I've ever made. I know it sounds kind of weird, but trust me on this--if you want to make an impressive and interesting dessert for a dinner party, you can't go wrong with Thomas Keller's Cream of Walnut soup. 

I've made a few dessert soups in my time, but never really made one I thought I'd make again (or dream about). Served in itsy-bitsy servings (I served in demitasse cups, which is extra cute), you'll want to sip this seriously rich soup slowly, tasting every flavor in every drop.

The first step in making Cream of Walnut soup is toasting the walnuts in the oven. Every time, EVERY SINGLE TIME I toast nuts in the oven I burn the first batch. It's like, come on, Cor, nuts don't grow on trees! (Okay, so they do, but they're expensive.) So, you place your second, unburned batch of toasted walnuts in a heavy bottomed pot with part of a vanilla bean and simmer that in heavy cream until the flavors are infused, giving the cream a slightly (pleasantly) bitter flavor and, obviously, a hint of vanilla.

To balance the cream element, you poach some pear (I used a Bosc) in some sauvignon blanc, fresh lemon juice, sugar and water, then puree all that together. You strain the cream into a bowl, then strain the hot pear puree and mix together. The dry acidity and sweetness of the pear puree does something magical to the cream, leaving your finished product not tasting distinctly of pear OR of walnut, really. It's an entirely new flavor, totally smooth, a little frothy, and 100% good. Topped off with a few drops of walnut oil, this turned out to be an excellent Valentine's Day dessert for my most excellent boyfriend.

As a Valentine's Day bonus, look at this super precious walnut piece that plopped out of the bag perfectly and serendipitously formed when I went to toast my second batch. J'adorable! (ugh! Thought I'd forgotten about that ridiculous phrase and now I can't untype it! Ack!)

I didn't change the recipe at all except to make a smaller batch, so just follow this link. Majorly recommended.

Curried Coconut Chickpea Soup

This is why Soupruary exists.

In the end it isn't about soup. Let's face it: Soup is about the least exciting food there is (excepting, like, gruel). Saying a person smells like soup is just a hop-skip-jump away from creepsville. But a good bowl of soup can bring friends together for a living room picnic and provide the sustenance needed to speculate over Justin Bieber's use of Latisse, or relive one of the great moments of entertainment justice by rewatching Kyle Chandler's 2011 Emmys acceptance speech.

We treated our conversations, our videos, our laughter, our blog viewings all as though we were saving the world. That's the way it is with great nights with great friends. And it all happened because Erin emailed at 4 o'clock and asked if I was making soup.

Of course I was! After last night's disastacle, I was ready for something I knew would be hearty and chunky and warming. I looked at good ol' epicurious and about 3 minutes later this soup applied for a position in my tummy and I was like COME ON IN I'M HIRING! It had excellent qualifications, by which I mean it had a history of great user reviews and I already had all of the required ingredients.

It's not the most memorable soup in the world, but it gave me life after a long and weird day. This is a good standard weeknight meal to keep in mind. Real sustenance, ya know?

Erin and Kenneth brought some delicious cheese and crackers, I threw together a quick salad and the beets I've been addicted to since I made them for Christmas, and we had a lumpday feast. (If you can call it a feast when you're sitting on the floor.

Also giving me life: Dessert! Erin and Ken brought these gorgeous gems that believe it or not came from Kroger! Kroger is really stepping up its game, y'all. 

Before the pre-Valentine's Day massacre:

And after.

Please note that the strawberry, the only thing of debatable nutritional value (it was glazed) on the plate, was left nearly pristine. Priorities, people.

A night that ends with me cleaning dried up whipped cream off the table is no holds barred the best kind of night. And without this silly thing called Soupruary it probably wouldn't have been tonight, when I absolutely needed it. So thanks, E&K, and thanks, soup.This was a big bearhug of a night.

Curried Coconut Chickpea Soup

Adapted from Donna Klein's The Tropical Vegan Kitchen, via epicurious, which adds the adjective "African" to the beginning of the recipe title, but Africa is a large continent and that seems too general for me to perpetuate such nomenclature.

Serves 4

GET THIS STUFF

2 T grapeseed oil
1 small white onion, chopped
1 red bell pepper, chopped
1 jalapeño, seeded and chopped
2 cloves of garlic, minced or pressed
2 c vegetable broth
1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 can diced tomatoes, drained
1 scant T curry powder
3/4 t salt
1/2 t ground black pepper
1 can light coconut milk
3/4 c cooked rice (I used red because I had it in the fridge)
2 T chopped Italian parsley

DO THIS WITH IT

Heat oil in your soup pot over medium heat.

Add onion, bell pepper and  jalapeño and cook for about 5 minutes.

Add garlic and stir around for a minute or two more.

Add broth, chickpeas, tomatoes, curry powder, salt and pepper, and bring to a boil.

Turn heat down and simmer for 10 minutes or so (or if it's handier, cover and turn heat to low and just let it hang out there until 5 mintues before you're ready to serve it. It won't hurt anything at all).

Stir in coconut milk, rice and parsley. Cook for about 3 minutes, until rice is heated through.

Taste for seasoning and serve.