Sick soup

Clearly the past week did not go as planned. No Bittman posts appeared here, and no new recipes were made. Until today at lunch.

I don’t get sick very often. When I do, it’s usually a head cold that lasts mayyyyybe three or four days until I get frustrated with it and flood myself with so much liquid that the cold just gets flushed right out of me. This week was different. I don’t know whether this thing that hit me was cold or flu, but it knocked me over, dragged me around for a while, and then pummeled me almost senseless.

My wonderful husband has been nursing me on simple, nutritious dinners and generally keeping me out of the kitchen, which has been a strange experience. But as this morning wound to a close, with husband and dog-daughter out on a walk, I was suddenly struck with a craving for – of all things – Cup’o’noodle soup. You know, the kind in the styrofoam cup with the peel-back paper top, packed with noodles and freeze-dried vegetables and crusty little shrimp? Yeah, I wanted that for the first time in probably ten years. Maybe more.

Of course we don’t have Cup’o’noodle in the house. But we did have frozen turkey broth, made from the carcass of our Thanksgiving turkey. And I had the memory of my friend M.’s suggestion for “garlic tea” as a cold remedy. I went to work in slow, hobbling steps.

In a pot, I put:

3 cups turkey broth (shlooped out of a freezer container in one icy cylinder)

6-10 cloves of garlic, well smashed

2-inch knob of ginger

½ tsp red chili flakes

I turned the heat up and let this come to a boil, where I left it rolling for about 10 minutes to let the garlic and ginger flavors really permeate the broth.*  Then I added:

1 cup loosely packed torn kale leaves

1-2 TB soy sauce

¼ lemon (I squeezed out the juice and then added the wedge of lemon as well)

½ cup Trader Joe’s harvest blend (Israeli couscous, split peas, red quinoa, and orzo)

I let this simmer away for 10-15 minutes, until the kale was wilted and the grains were cooked.

Then I ate the whole pot. 

It was delicious. It wasn’t the over-salted, noodle-y guilty-awesome of Cup’o’noodle, but it was comforting and satisfying and spicy and rich and felt healthy. The lemon juice added a necessary brightness, and the grains blend made it filling enough for lunch. The garlic, the ginger and the chili flakes all have their own kind of spiciness, and all were welcome and throat-soothing and tummy-warming.

If you’re not feeling well (or even if you are!), make yourself a pot of this. To bulk it up, add more grains, or sub that out for noodles, or add some pre-cooked shredded chicken or squares of tofu. If you don’t like kale, add some spinach in the last five minutes instead. Using vegetable broth would easily make this vegetarian and vegan, and using tofu or rice noodles instead of the grains blend would easily make this gluten-free.

 

* At this point, you could strain out the garlic and ginger, and add the vegetables and grains to a clear broth. I didn’t, but then again, I’m the sicko.

With firm resolve?

Last night, at a New Year’s Eve party for which the unintentional theme appeared to  be cheese (brie en crout!  Hot artichoke parmesan dip!  Goat cheese with fig butter!), S. asked each guest if he or she had New Year’s resolutions.  When it was my turn, I was filled with bleary uncertainty.  The fact that I’m an academic always makes the new year an odd event, because regardless of what the calendar says, my new year starts in September.  That’s when I go back to school and to teaching.  January 1st happens in the middle of the term break, and though I have a new class of students when I return, it’s still the same school year.  So school-related resolutions don’t seem appropriate.  I’m not going to resolve to complete my dissertation, though that will get done.  It’s not really a resolution because it’s not a decision I’m changing.  It’s a set-in-stone-requirement for me, at this point.  I’m not going to resolve to get a job, because I’ve done what I can to help that happen, and now it’s out of my hands.

And then the Bittman project drifted into my mind.  With the dissertation winding down (amazing what a few afternoons of post-Christmas reading at the in-laws’ will do for brainstorming!) and my on campus schedule quite manageable this term, I feel a slow and only slightly unsteady confidence that I can inject enough regularity into my weeks this term for blogging to take place.  That and getting my year end report from WordPress yesterday made me feel a certain hunger to get back to my regular schedule here.

So that’s my resolution: I will finish the Bittman project.  The original list of sides was 101 items.  Eliminating those I knew N. and I would never eat, we began with 82.  Last year I made 39 of those, including one about which I hope to post sometime this week.  I know, pitiful.  So that leaves 43.  Doable, right?  Less than one a week, especially if I get my act together and double up occasionally.

It feels a little sad to be resolving to complete my unfinished resolution from last year, but I guess that’s what a lot of people do with these things: lose weight, get in shape, year in and year out.  Here I have exact numbers, exact quantities of what must be done.  Exact numbers of soups, chutneys, relishes, salads, desserts and breads and sides.  And so we’ll plow on!

Happy 2012, everyone.  May your resolutions bear fruit.

Boxing Day

I have titled this entry not to call your attention to the boxes containing presents to be returned, or the boxes full of old newspaper snippets waiting to re-enclose ornaments and decorations for next year, but to the kind that hold leftovers safe in the fridge until you have room in your belly enough to think about eating again.

N.’s family does a big Christmas dinner, and I mean big: think Thanksgiving.  There’s a turkey, there’s stuffing, Christmas would be ruined without mashed potatoes, and there’s N.’s dad’s specialty: an ambrosia fruit salad complete with miniature marshmallows.

So on December 26th, while we listen to new music and test out our new toys and break in our new clothes, there are also new dishes to be considered.  After all, you can only re-eat Christmas dinner so many times in its original form before you long for a pizza.  On my work-off-Mom-in-law’s-chocolate-fudge walk this morning, through the deer-infested, hill dotted neighborhood in the Sierra Nevada foothills with the smell of fire and pine in my nose, I thought of a few tasty ways of working through the leftovers that I wanted to share.

For breakfast, or mid-morning, or mid-afternoon snack: toast a piece of whole-grain bread, with lots of nuts and seeds sprinkled along the top.  Spread it thick with cream cheese, then drape some whole berry cranberry sauce atop that.  Fold the bread over, or approach it open-face, and rejoice in the creamy rich sweet tart flavor.

As a dinner time side dish, take your leftover mashed potatoes and sprinkle with a hefty helping of black pepper and garlic powder.  Spread out on a plate or in an oven-safe dish, then cascade on a blizzard of parmesan or extra sharp cheddar cheese.  Microwave or bake in the oven until the potatoes are burbling hot and the cheese has melted into a gushy thick layer of melted awesome.  Eat.

For the turkey, there are a billion recipes out there.  This Turkey Pot Pie might be my favorite.  It’s rich, it’s homey and comforting, and as an extra bonus, it can take care of your leftover gravy too!

Hope your holiday was joyful and delicious.

Soup’s on!

No time for lengthy reflections today, but we did cross a milestone last week: finally broached the soup selection on my long-neglected Bittman list!

“Saute sliced shallots in olive oil, then add chunks of butternut squash, some rosemary and chicken stock or water to cover. As the soup simmers, bake strips of prosciutto until crisp. Puree the soup, swirl in some cream if you like and serve topped with crumbled prosciutto.”

This sounded easy and tasty, and with no less than 20 cups of homemade turkey stock chilling in the freezer after Thanksgiving, I had just the thick, tasty broth to add extra flavor to this soup.  Given vegetable availability and my preferences, I changed things up a little.  I used:

1 whole acorn squash, halved, seeded, and brushed with olive oil, salt and pepper

1 TB olive oil

1 shallot, sliced thin

2 cups turkey stock

2 sprigs rosemary, stems removed and leaves minced

¼ – ½ cup heavy cream

salt and pepper to taste

4 slices prosciutto

I preheated my oven to 400F and put the acorn squash halves cut side down on a cookie sheet, leaving them to roast for almost an hour, until a knife inserted went through the skin and flesh like jelly.  Then I took them out and set them aside to cool until I could handle them without searing my own flesh. 

I replaced the squash in the oven with prosciutto, spreading out four slices on parchment paper on a cookie sheet and baking until they got crisp, about 15 minutes.

In a deep pot, I heated olive oil over medium heat and added the shallot slices, letting them soften and then caramelized a bit, till they were pale gold in color and smelled sweet.

When the squash was cool, I scraped all the flesh out of the shells and dumped the flesh into the pot with my caramelized shallot.  I added my turkey stock just to cover the squash, the rosemary, a little salt and pepper, and brought it to a slow simmer.

Once the soup was simmering and seemed evenly heated, I pulled it off the stove for a moment to use my immersion blender until the soup was a glistening puree of gorgeous autumn velvet.  Back on the stove with a perfect texture, I added the cream and stirred gently to integrate it, watching the bright orange mellow into a rusty gold.

Dolloped into warm bowls, I crumbled prosciutto over the top of the soup and, as a last textural element, inserted a slice of sourdough toast, broiled with olive oil and rubbed with a raw garlic clove before sitting down to eat.

This was so tasty.  Lik Orangette, soups sometimes leave me feeling wanting, especially because I use my own stock, which is so much less salty than any processed broth or soup out there.  But this one was far from bland.  Roasting the squash and caramelizing the shallot lent a lovely nutty richness.  The rosemary added a sharp herby punch to the smooth creamy velvet of the soup.  And the prosciutto was just the right salty meaty indulgence, though for a vegetarian version you could certainly use a frico of parmesan cheese instead. 

If you’re not in the mood for soup, I think this could be a nice change-up to mashed potatoes as well.  Just reduce or drain off the stock and serve nicely pureed alongside a frittata, or some roast chicken and pan-crisped green beans.

Because it’s fun…

Inspired by my dear friend S, who blogs over at http://sarahlitchick.blogspot.com/, here’s our menu for the big bird day tomorrow:

 

Appetizers: tomato and cucumber bruschetta, along with (maybe) some nice dill havarti I forgot I had

Wines, red and white

Main course: lemon garlic herb butter roasted turkey

Sides: Giblet gravy, Stuffing (also with giblets, probably…), baked creamed spinach, chipotle mashed sweet potatoes, homemade cranberry sauce

Desserts: Mom-made pumpkin pie, currently in transit up from Northern California, and Pumpkin cheesecake.  Both with fresh whipped cream, if desired

 

Today’s tasks include: baking a cranberry swirled, well streuseled coffee cake for breakfasts.  I first baked it three years ago and my sister adores it so much I now cannot escape the task of making one every year (not that I mind… it is pretty delicious).  Making the cranberry sauce.  It needs to set up in the fridge, although the fact that one shelf is completely taken up by a 17 pound, still mostly frozen turkey makes that whole storage thing difficult… Making the pumpkin cheesecake.  Here, too, a night in the chiller is required, which makes me slightly anxious.  Where will it go?  Why did I buy such a big turkey?  Why, when I liberated it from the freezer section of the grocery store on SUNDAY, is it still rock hard to the touch?  What would happen if I stored it in the garage overnight?  It’s kind of like a walk-in fridge out there, isn’t it? 

These are my pre-Thanksgiving preoccupations.  But I suppose they are largely good ones, because they mean I get to be in the kitchen today AND tomorrow.  And I do like it there. 

What does your Thanksgiving menu look like? 

Roots!

This is not a Bittman recipe.  But it is something I made.  It’s hearty, it’s autumnal, it’s colorful, and it’s easy.  Oh, and it allows you to turn your oven on for around an hour and thereby heat up your house a bit!

Roasted Root Vegetables

3 carrots, peeled and cut into chunks

3 parsnips, peeled and cut into chunks

2 purple topped turnips, peeled and cut into chunks

2 rutabegas, peeled and cut into chunks (see a pattern here?)

1 sweet potato (or 1/2 of a mammoth yam), peeled and cut into chunks

1 tsp dried rosemary, or to taste

1 tsp sea salt

1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper

olive oil to coat

Preheat your oven to 400F.  Peel and cut all vegetables into equal, bite-sized chunks.  Toss them with seasonings and olive oil in a 9×13 inch glass baking dish.  Use enough olive oil so that all chunks of root vegetable get an even coating and glisten slightly.  Depending on size of vegetables, this might range from between 1/2 – 1 cup of oil.

Roast until all vegetables are tender and begin to brown on the outside, 45 minutes to an hour, depending on size.

As you can see, this is almost ridiculously easy.  You can substitute for any of these vegetables you don’t like – easy additions or change-outs would be regular or fingerling potatoes, beets, even celery root.  Choose what you love, mix them well, and enjoy!