Soup Fra Diavolo

TFW you have a seriously specific food craving but you've made a solemn vow to eat soup all month.

No? Just me? Cool.

In case it's not just me, here's a hot tip the alien lizard soup overlords don't want you to know: You can pretty much turn anything into a soup. Just add broth! Magic!

My specific dinner desire was noodles (uhdoyyy) with a spicy tomato sauce: linguine fra diavolo. You know what the first word means; the next two mean "brother devil." Thankfully, neither of my brothers are anywhere near devilish - I'm not an enormous fan of cannibalism.

Measure your pasta to about the size of a quarter for just the perfect proportion.

I put shrimp in this here pot because I had shrimp, but, brother (devil), that shrimp was not the star. This broth turned out so balanced and satisfying that with every bite I had to remind myself it only took about 20 minutes to make. The point is, if you're not a shrimp eater, you can leave it out and enjoy this soup just as much as I did (which was molto).

You can really change up the spice level to your taste - if you're looking for more of a fra angelo I'm pretty sure this would still be one dang satisfying bowl. You could also use another type of pasta if linguine/splashing things all over your shirt is not your jam.

But like I said, the broth is where it's at. The acidity of the tomatoes mixes with the earthy greenness of the kale and herbs and the spice to make every sip of broth feel like a high five for your tongue. And there's nothing that warms me up quite like some carbs on a winter's night.

Also: Happy National Homemade Soup Day apparently! Who knew? (My friend Dave knew, to be clear.) So glad we could celebrate this together, each of us.

Shrimp Fra Diavolo Soup
2 meal-sized servings

Extra virgin olive oil
1/2 a medium red onion, small diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 a glass of white wine (optional - and approximate. I had some and decided to use it, and it certainly made a difference in the depth of broth flavor.)
1 can fire roasted diced tomatoes
3 cups vegetable or chicken broth (I used Better Than Bouillon No Chicken Base (vegetarian))
crushed red pepper flakes to taste (I used about a teaspoon in total)
1/4 pound linguine
4 large kale leaves, ribs discarded and leaves cut into ribbons
2 sprigs thyme, leaves picked
1 sprig oregano, leaves picked and minced
1 sprig parsley, leaves picked and minced (plus more to garnish if desired)
~1/4 pound medium raw shrimp, peeled and deveined

Heat a pot over medium heat and add a splash of extra virgin olive oil (about 2 teaspoons). Add garlic and onion, season with salt and pepper, and cook 4-5 minutes, until onion is soft and translucent but not browning. Add white wine and cook until most of the wine has evaporated – this will happen quickly, probably about one minute. Add can of tomatoes (do not drain), broth, and your desired amount of red pepper flakes (don’t wuss out on me now, baby), stir, and bring to a boil. Turn heat down to low to let it simmer while you cook your pasta.

Heat a small pot of salted water over high heat until boiling. Add linguine, broken up as much as you’d like. I broke it in half because I wanted long, slurpable noodles – but not so long as to necessitate a fork. Cook until just al dente (mine took about 7 minutes but it’s all about checking for doneness, AKA getting to eat pasta sooner), then drain.

Taste the broth for seasoning and add more salt, pepper or crushed red pepper if desired. Add shrimp, kale, oregano, thyme and parsley to your soup base, and cook for two or three minutes, until shrimp is just cooked through. Add pasta and serve, sprinkling with a bit more red pepper flakes and parsley. I threw in some grated pecorino romano about halfway through my bowl, because I had it and it didn’t seem like an awful idea. It changed the thickness of the broth and the salt levels, of course, and I always love a little mid-meal makeover. But tbh, I preferred it senza formaggio. 

Nada Butternut Squash Soup

I love this city. And I wouldn't be here without my job, which I also love. And outside of being passionate about the work I do and the organization I work for, I'm also completely honored and delighted by the ridiculously wonderful people I work with.

We have good times in the office, but every few weeks my team manages to break away to have lunch. We always have important concepts to brainstorm, or changes to gossip about, and we also always have fun. Nothing like a change of scenery to change the conversation.

Today was a good walk'n'talk'n'lunch: We went to Nada (so, the walk part of it was not so much) and I had one of my favorite soups in Cincinnati. I thought maybe the jerks I work with would also have some soup in deference to the fact that it is Soupruary, after all, but these nonobservant Soupruarians got tacos.

 Lemme tell you, babes: they missed out. This smooth, dreamy soup is perfectly squashy, and the crema, pepitas and green onion garnish work in tandem to enhance the squashiness rather than pull the taste buds in other directions. I've experienced this bowl many a time over the years, but today I tried something different.

You guys, I dipped a chip. I DIPPED. A CHIP.

You think you know what this means, but I assure you I was wholly unprepared for the consequences. I took a bite and instantly knew it was greater than the combination of two parts. Here's the real equation:

Nada chip + Nada butternut squash soup = Cap'n Crunch

Like STRAIGHT UP Cap'n Crunch. Unmistakably Cap'n Crunch. It blew my mind. I forced it upon two of my coworkers (and when you share soup, you're FRIENDS), and at least one of them agreed.

Another of them had never had Cap'n Crunch, so she assumed it would taste like "soup and a chip." So I guess we all know what she's getting for Valentine's Day.

So yeah, I ate soup again. It was a great idea and I felt happy about it all day. And I'm trying to convince myself that's really what Soupruary is all about. If you're in Cincinnati and haven't experienced the taste of this luxurious soup that is probably terrible for you but tricks you into thinking you're making healthy choices...I say it's the best reason to go to Nada. And also I went to see If/Then at the Aronoff tonight and I cried through the entire second half, and since Nada is adjacent to the theater, you can go eat nada and then go feel todo.

Postscript: After lunch we made a stop at the best ice cream shop in town, Hello Honey, for some frozen dessert soup. I got my brown butter caramel topped with a toasted marshmallow because I'm an indulgent monster.

My angelbaby coworkers decided on no marshmallows and I assume they've regretted it all day.

Radish Soup with Radicchio and Lemony Greek Yogurt

It’s creamy! It’s tangy! It’s ever so slightly pink in a way that’s hopefully not off-putting!

Radish soup?! I know, weird! Somehow, when I googled "Soup Recipes" on my phone Monday night (because that's how much effort, dedication and planning I've put into my darling Soupruary this year) - the results were chicken noodle, vegetable, minestrone, tomato, RADISH, vegetable again...

And I was like hold up, did you just sneak a radish in there like that was normal? Are radishes super hot right now? Is there some sort of radish fadish I don't know about? And I suppose I could use the very same Internet (luh you, Internet) to investigate all of this, but by that time I was already sold on the soup and watching a video of bunnies in wine glasses. 

This budget-friendly beauty cost me $8.63 in supplies at the friendly Vine St. Kroger, and that includes a whole 5 lbs. of Yukon Golds. Looks pretty fancy for eight bucks, right? And truthfully, you could do without the $2 for the Greek yogurt and the lemon if you wanted to. While I liked the added brightness, part of me just wanted to snuggle up in a creamy soup blanket and tell the yogurt to QUIT KICKING WHILE I’M TRYING TO CUDDLE.

Not only was this one of the cheaper things I’ve made over the years, but it took no time at all. I spent about 20 minutes on this – and the speed of cooking it is matched only by the ease. I left work late, walked to the grocery store and back, prepped, cooked, ate, wrote a bit, watched a TV show and still managed to meet some besties for some intensive girl talk by 7:30pm.

I don’t tend to base my food decisions on such pragmatic concerns, seeing as how “cheap, fast and easy” may not be the strongest selling points for food outside of the White Castle universe, so let’s get emo. I’m in love with radishes, and the affair has been going for quite some time. In a salad, in a stir fry, raw with butter and salt, and now in a soup (!) – radishes are a refrigerator staple for me. The peppery crispness makes the humble radish a viable chip alternative when I'm hankering for a snack, and the way it seems to morph into another vegetable altogether when heat is applied makes me feel powerful (and not just when I’m cooking in a pantsuit).  The fact that they’re one of the OMGcutest vegetables on the planet doesn’t hurt one bit.

But, Cor, I hate radishes, you say. Ignoring the fact that you’re wrong, I still think you’d enjoy this soup. If you left the radish matchsticks out of the equation, you’re really talking about a lighter potato soup in a mysterious hue with an unplaceable but pleasant smidge of je ne sais quoi. The radicchio I bought on a whim in order to add color and texture, but was a bit concerned about also adding bitterness. My worries were unfounded, since the cooking of it removed the bitterness, and that element turned the soup into a meal rather than a starter.  (BRB patting self on back and writing a thank-you note to whoever invented cooking shows.)

In summation, this soup was:

P.s. I used to have a shirt filled with these little guys, and I got a bunch of paint on it two years ago and haven't smiled since. (By shawnimals, btw.)

Creamy Radish Soup with Radicchio

Serves 2

Adapted for texture, fun, and more fat from Eating Well 

1 tablespoon butter

1 ¾ cups washed, trimmed and sliced radishes

2 small shallots, peeled and diced

1 medium Yukon Gold potato, peeled and large diced

2 cups milk (I used whole milk because I choose to be happy in my life, but you do you)

2-3 radishes washed, trimmed and cut into matchsticks

2 tablespoons Italian parsley, minced

¼ cup Greek yogurt

Zest and juice of half a lemon

Extra virgin olive oil

½ cup radicchio, sliced into ribbons (about ¼ of a head)

Salt & freshly ground black pepper

Melt butter in a medium pot over medium heat, then add sliced radishes and shallots. Season with salt and pepper and cook for about five minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add potato and milk, bring to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer. Cover and cook for about five minutes.

Meanwhile, mix the Greek yogurt with lemon juice, lemon zest, salt and pepper to taste.

Heat a small pan over medium heat and add a splash of olive oil. Add radicchio, season with salt and pepper and sauté, stirring occasionally, until wilted (two or three minutes)

When potatoes are tender, transfer soup to a blender or use an immersion blender in the pot – blend (carefully) until smooth, then return to pot and season to taste with salt and pepper.

To serve, top each bowl with half the radish matchsticks, half the parsley, half the radicchio and (if using) half the Greek yogurt.

Quan Hapa Shoyu Ramen

Listen, if there’s anything I’m more into than soup, it’s words. And if there’s one word that’s said more at my office than any other, it’s NOODLES. Don’t believe me? Exhibit A: The only motivational poster I’ve ever made, and the only one I’ll ever need:

Double listen: Ever since Quan Hapa opened in my neighborhood and I had a delicious and giant bowl of ramen within walking distance, I’ve developed something of a habit. Whenever anyone asks where I want to get dinner, the answer in my head is Quan Hapa. I try not to always say it out loud, of course, because like any good 33-year-old I’m deathly afraid of being boring/dying alone/whatever.

So you think, Wow, ramen right in your neighborhood! Could your life be any easier? Yep, sure could. I haven’t told you yet about my enabler. 53t Courier is a glorious bike delivery service that allows me to order ramen from the comfort of my couch instead of walking the exhausting four entire blocks to get it.

This is how severe my addiction is: In the second week of January, I was thinking about what to eat (I mean, I was awake, so obviously that’s what I was thinking about), and I thought: wait, you haven’t had noodles at all in 2016. For a moment, everything in my life felt wrong.

Then I realized: YOU HAD RAMEN TWICE LAST WEEK, IDIOT. It’s so much a part of my being, so second-nature, that I just forget. Noodles = breathing.

So here I am, on the first day of Soupruary, in the middle of a pretty stressful time at work and in life, and I turn on the ol’ Hulu to watch the season finale of MasterChef Junior, and I see this beautiful bowl made by a nine-year-old:

That’s some asparagus concoction with smoked oysters made by Avery-from-the-Bayou, who I repeat is NINE, and it’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever even attempted. I responded to this verdant vision of loveliness like any modern girl who hasn’t yet found the right therapist – by putting on Soft Clothes, picking up my laptop and deciding to eat my feelings.

Shoyu ramen with a slow-poached egg, delivered right to my door. Fried tofu that has a sweet and savory marinade soaked into every millimeter, smoked shiitakes (literally the only smoked thing I enjoy), perfect enoki mushrooms that soften in the broth to the point that basically they turn into bonus noodles (the most beautiful phrase in the English language), some DJ baby bok choy for good measure and a little dose of burnt garlic oil that takes the already umami-full soy-based broth to an all new level of YES PLZ THX. 

And of course, the noodles. This is as blissed out as I get:

Clearly, I aced finishing school.

Quan Hapa these days offers three broths: shoyu, miso and tonkotsu. My current fave is the shoyu - but I must admit I miss the shockingly flavorful roasted mushroom broth they whipped up when they first started ramenmongering. Oh man, I feel instantly guilty just typing that, because I'm oh-so-grateful. 

When I think about the good things in my life, this is definitely one of them. I know ramen is so OVER, but we haven't had it in Cincinnati long and I've missed it oh-so-much. I have formative memories around this food: going to Japan and being blown away by ordering it from a vending machine, going to Japantown in San Francisco and capping a Sanrio score with a noodle score, going to Little Tokyo in LA while I was in college and making spice-based dares with my friends -- these are genuinely my favorite memories. I hear stories of kids being spoiled with candy and ice cream at their grandparents' houses, and I certainly had my share, but the food-based-spoiling that instantly comes to mind for me is Top Ramen. My wonderful Mom wouldn't think of stocking that garbage in our pantry at home, but Gramma let me make it at her house and (gasp!) even let me add more salt to it. That's that good Gramma-love, right there. Ramen of all sorts doesn't feel like a fad to me - it's a soup that's deep in my soul, my number one food, and the most reliable pathway to instant happiness. So thanks, Quan Hapa, for a little piece of heaven on a stressful Monday night.

On that note, here's the T: I don't have time for a full-on Soupruary this year, so I'm settling for an amalgamation of sorts. Some soup reviews/recommendations, some recipes, and some posts from last year that never made it to the blog. My aim is to be back in full regalia for the 2017 Souping Season. Besides, let's face it. It's a leap year, and 29 days of making soup would just be bananas, and banana soup doesn't even sound good.

Smoked Cauliflower Soup

It's a guest post! I'm so excited!

And it's so pretty!

In Fall 2000, I went off to college with 17 years under my belt and freshly box-dyed red hair. I didn't know what to expect as I walked out of my dorm room on the first day of orientation, but I happened upon a group that first day that I was lucky enough to stick with all four years. Among those excellent, attractive, hilarious people was Travis Scott Taylor.

Stolen from yr Facebook page, bud!

It was with Travis that I realized exactly how much I loved stand-up comedy -- my abs hurt so much from laughing that I couldn't sit up straight for days after we saw Mitch Hedberg at the Ontario Improv. And it was with Travis that I started to figure out I loved food to an outlandish degree. We watched so much Food Network, we had the most fun dinner parties (with varying degrees of success), and we devoted a large percentage of our practically zero college student dollars to omakase sushi.

But where most of my food interest remains in consumption, Travis took his passion and made it his life. That's right, folks: A FOR-REALSIES ACTUAL TRAINED CHEF MADE A SOUP FOR THIS BLOG.

My friendship with Travis has been studded with so many memorable meals. A few years back he came out to visit during the MidPoint Music Festival, and spoiled me all weekend with such delights as paella (the first and only time my paella pan has been used for its proper purpose) and homemade ravioli. The food Travis makes is characterized by research, experimentation, imagination, care and effort. He doesn't do anything halfway; he'll go to the moon and back if you want a grilled mooncheese sandwich.

Listen, I know I've waxed nostalgic here, but this is a special man, who made a special soup just for me and y'all. And I'm so freaking stoked to share it with you. THANKS, Trav-o-pie! Also, wait till you see how charming he is in writing his recipe. It's got so much personality; I'm not worthy! Without further ado, words and a recipe from TST:

***

About two years ago my mother and father purchased a wood pellet smoker. At first it was quite a treat. My weekly visits were punctuated by a hearty meal of smoked chicken, pork, beef, fish, you name it. Soon after all reasonable ideas had been exhausted, arbitrary things were more often than not making their way into the smoker. Smoked baked potato anyone? Yeah, me neither.  After a couple of months everything began tasting like hot dogs….

 There were, however, a couple of culinary gems to be found amongst the abominations that came from this era, including this recipe. I can tell you first hand that any time an unintuitive combination of flavors is discovered in a professional kitchen, the discoverer is met with a litany of high fives. Have you EVER tried mixing wasabi with kiwi? Its incredible. For some reason, this recipe struck me in the same way. It was simply something I had never thought of before. Creamy, smoky, and very rich. Definitely a comfort food worthy of a cold night in.

[Editor's note: Um, it's -12 degrees here right now. Travis lives in LA. COLD NIGHT IN, YOU SAY?]

Just to remind you how pretty it is.

Smoked Purple Cauliflower Soup

INGREDIENTS:

1 head of purple cauliflower, cut into small pieces (you can use regular cauliflower but the purple variety has a subtle nuttiness that I really like in this recipe)
4 medium purple fingerling (for same reason as the cauliflower) or Yukon gold potatoes
1 small onion
1 tbsp olive oil
12 oz smoked stock (I used bones from a smoked chicken that I simmered for about 4 hours, but a good smoked ham hock would be perfect as well… if you want to cheat I have even used 1 tsp of liquid smoke and regular chicken stock)
8 oz heavy cream (you can use more or less depending on how creamy you want your soup)
Salt and pepper to taste
Sour cream or crème fraiche as garnish
Chives for garnish

METHOD:

Preheat oven or smoker to 375.

The first time I did this recipe I smoked the head of cauliflower in the smoker with the potatoes at 375 for 1 hour. This was amazing, but VERY smokey, so if you want to give it a try I totally recommend it.

Otherwise, toss the cauliflower, onions, and potatoes in olive oil and roast in the oven at 375 for 1 hour instead. Once roasted, puree together with the smoked stock and heavy cream.  Since all produce is variable in size please be sure to add stock a little at a time, being sure to check the consistency of the puree to ensure that it is pourable. If necessary, blend in batches and pour the resulting purple puree into a saucepan to heat to service temperature and adjust the salt and pepper balance to your liking.

Ladle the soup into bowls and top with a drizzle of crème fraiche or a dollop of sour cream and a pinch of fresh chives.

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.

Pea, Mint and Arugula Soup

If you know one thing about me, let’s face it – it’s that I make too much soup. If you know two things about me, the second is probably that I have a nearly unnatural affinity for peas.

Regular ol’ green peas. Fresh peas, frozen peas, I don’t care: Just gimme. Put some olive oil on ‘em, salt ‘em up and fill a bowl to the brim and you’ve got my favorite by-myself-in-front-of-the-TV dinner. So it takes a lot for me to make peas into a soup – I love the way they pop between your teeth when you bite down on one at a time (yeah, there’s plenty wrong with me, why do you ask?), and turning them into a smooth concoction takes that pleasure point away.

But when you’re replacing that pleasure with the pleasures of mint and arugula? I say the cost-benefit-analysis is landing solidly in this soup’s favor.

I almost typed “flavor” instead of “favor.” That’s how good it was. The arugula adds that nice peppery bite (plus some good nutrients I suppose), and pea + mint is a classic combo for a reason. Pea + mint is my pepperoni + pizza.

This soup takes the essence of peas and punches it up in highly complementary ways while not reducing the essential pea-ness of it. Oh no. I just typed that, read it back in my head, realized what it sounded like, and giggled like a seventh grader. Now I can’t delete it even though I assume my mother will be forever disappointed in me (sorry, mom, PEAS forgive me).

MOVING ON.

This soup has such fresh taste, and I gobbled it up and licked the bowl when I served it (to myself) hot last night topped with some nice salty feta and a drizzle of olive oil. I had a thought too late that I should have put a few whole peas on top as a garnish, too. But inspiration doesn’t always strike all at once, so I’ll have to test out that (clearly brilliant) idea in March.

This morning I had it cold for breakfast, and wow, does it taste even MORE fresh that way. If you wanted to get real fancy-like, you could serve it chilled (that’s fancytalk for “cold”) and strained through a fine mesh strainer to achieve a more elegant texture. I just had it straight out a plastic storage container like the woman of the pea-ple that I am.

GROAN.

But seriously, I’ve said it before (on Instagram, @corrieloeffler) and I’ll say it again: I’d drink a gallon of this soup. I’d take this over a smoothie most days, and it doesn’t take that much longer to make. Because I didn’t use a recipe, this thing is crazy simple (unlike me, as I’m obviously very complicated and mysterious). As an aside: totally recommend just going in your kitchen and MAKING something, anything, without a recipe. When it works, it’s extra satisfying.

Final verdict: Do you like peas? Okay, cool, you’ll like this.

Pea, Mint and Arugula Soup

Serves two generously

Ingredes:

Extra virgin olive oil

1/2  of a yellow onion, diced

1 10 oz. bag of frozen sweet peas

2 cups no-chicken broth (it sounds weird but it’s really good, I swear) or vegetable broth

3 to 4 cups arugula

1 tablespoon mint, plus a few leaves for garnish

1 tablespoon crumbled feta

Method:

In small pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat and add the diced onion with a pinch of salt. Saute for about 5 minutes, until soft but not browning. Add peas and broth and simmer another 5 minutes. Transfer to a blender and add arugula and mint. Blend until smooth (strain through fine mesh strainer if desired) and serve topped with feta, mint leaves, a drizzle of olive oil and some freshly cracked black pepper.