19 posts tagged “soup”
Miso soup with shrimp and chicken stock, mushrooms, scallions and noodles.
A salad with garlic-rosemary croutons from homemade bread, Roma tomatoes and cucumber, with lettuce tossed in a Hoisin, soy and toasted sesame seed oil dressing.
While I'm in no danger of running out of ideas about what to do with them, my enthusiasm for tomatoes has dwindled a bit lately. In the beginning, I couldn't make a simple sandwich without piling on slices of beautiful, sweet, fantastic tomatoes. Now, not so much. I guess I'll have to start looking into how best to preserve these suckers.
This was a very nice soup — well, except for the color. And the taste...
It dawned on me: who the hell makes tomato soup from scratch anymore? I mean, I've never ever tasted, or seen anything except Campbell's. Seriously, I have no idea what a proper, home-made tomato soup is supposed to taste, or look like. When I thaw out the stuff I froze, I hope I'll remember to add some food coloring to it. You eat with your eyes, as they say...
(Oh yeah, that's basil, the green stuff in the soup.)
The recipe suggested cooked chicken, pork or shrimp. Right there, I should have taken notice — those are quite different proteins, as far as taste, texture and appearance goes. Dilled spinach soup is something I'd be happy to try, cold or hot. Now, I'd willing, but reluctant to try it hot. This was kinda crap.
But the cheesecake was fantastic. Extremely light and fluffy.
I'm reminded of the time when I first got into cooking. Well, until I got into French cookery. And I then discovered that this whole a la meuniere thing — I knew how to do that all along; I just didn't know what it was. There's nothing fancy-pantsy about it at all: catch a trout, prep it and dust some flour on it, and fry (ah — sauté it!), and Bob's yer mother's brother.
One of the culinary goals I set for myself this summer, was cold soups. Gazpacho is obvious. But then there's Vichyssouise — much harder to spell, and pronounce. But hey, it's a fancy-pants French thing, so hey, lets try that.
Well, I've apparently done vichyssouise soups before. It's just leeks and potatoes. And I've done that before — both cold and warm.
I love this. I'm all like, fucking cultured and shit, and I didn't even know it. Yeehaw. I love me some culture.
No, really, I do.
One goal I set for myself this summer, was to make some cold soups. I was kinda thinking about gazpacho or vichyssoise when I came up with this idea, but then I ran into a recipe for this soup, which recommended it to be served either hot or cold. And I agree wholeheartedly — this thing works both ways. I've done it warm before. On a warm summer day, it is just as good, when served cold.
Frozen and re-heated. The cheese thickens the soup, but it also adds a lot of flavor — and salt. It gives it an odd texture, really. I think I added a bit too much of it, but overall, it was very tasty. Quite honestly, the reason why I ended up eating it was mostly because I actually wanted to make some split pean soup, but felt a tad guilty about making more soup when I knew I already had some stowed away in the freezer. I believe I also have some carrot-based soup in there somewhere. And the cold season is coming to an end, which is a real bummer.
A simple, green salad to go with the soup. Spinach, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, a modest Caesar salad dressing, freshly ground pepper, and a few shavings of some Parmesan cheese.
Whoa, that looks a bit green. Tasted very, very good, though. Only problem is the weather is abandoning us — it just wasn't quite cold enough to be truly enjoyable. The tiny little respite we get from the scorching temperatures around here looks about to come to an end. We get a wee bit of rain and some cool-ish air for a few weeks and then it's back to "sorry about the smell of burning bacon; I just touched the steering wheel on my car..." The missionaries had all sorts of trouble trying to Christianize the Scandihoovians — one that comes to mind is that when they warned them they'd all suffer horribly, burning in an eternal fire if they didn't accept the Prince of Peace, they all went "ooh, that sounds nice, what do we have to do to go there?" Well screw that. The vikings were retards. They wouldn't have that flippant attitude if they lived around here.
Oh yeah, the soup. Chop up a head of cauliflower and three potatoes and boil it in about 4-5 cups of vegetable broth. When mushy (about 15 minutes), attack with potato masher or stick blender (or just do part of it in a stand blender or food processor) until you reach the consistency you'd like. If using a stick blender, keep it under the surface of the soup at all times. I know this sounds patronizing, because this is just basic, common sense — any cook worth his salt knows this. I did. And after tonight, I know it a little better. I breached the surface twice and I thought it was a terrible pity that it wasn't a tomato based soup, because I could have taken some pictures of the kitchen and convince people that they were pictures from the scene of some gruesome machete massacre. It was a mess.
Chop up two leeks (dirty bastard, they are. Remember to rinse it very well) and sautée them in some oil. Add to soup pot and let go for about five minutes.
Add some grated Parmesan. This provides both flavor and a thickening effect — but very importantly, also salt. The broth I used wasn't a reduced sodium version, which I normally use, and so I salted the stuff (like you normally do when boiling potatoes and such), and with the parm, it ended up a little too salty. Again, basic stuff — but I keep forgetting little things like that.
Add anything from 1 tablespoon to 1/2 cup of chopped parsley, and 1 tablespoon of chopped chives.
Add 1/4 teaspoon of freshly grated nutmeg. (I hate pre-ground nutmeg. It doesn't taste anything like the real thing. There are plenty of ground spices that taste just as good, or even better than the fresh stuff, but nutmeg is not one of them.)
Adjust seasoning with salt and white pepper and serve, garnished with more parsley.
The garnish leaves something to be desired, though. Everything's green. I'm thinking it would make more sense to use strips of red or yellow bell peppers, or capsicum peppers even. Or croûtons. Anything that isn't green — hell, some halved cherry tomatoes would improve the looks a lot, as well as adding some flavor (oh yeah, if you'd pan-fry them before adding them in).
On the side, I served some garlic Parmesan toast. Bread, margarine, lots of crushed garlic, grated parm, in the toaster oven until the cheese starts changing color — Parmesan toast, done! I've gotta stop watching "The F Word."
Ah, and this was a vegetarian meal (or possibly a vegan meal, since I used margarine instead of butter [Edit: of course not — Parmesan is a dairy product]) — quite unintended. I remain a meat eater, but between this and aloo gobi, and uh, me accidentally making a bacon and spinach quiche without bacon*, well, the vegetarian grub I come up with is often so damn good I'd be perfectly happy to eat vegetarian half of the time, methinks.
*Of course, the accident that caused the bacon and spinach quiche to be bacon-free was caused by the unintended and entirely unforeseen accident of me eating all that lovely, crispy crunchy bacon before I had a chance to add it to the quiche. But I've heard of people calling themselves vegetarians even though they eat fish (or even chicken) and labels like ovo-lacto vegetarian and/or vegan and I dunno, that Lisa Simpson fifth-level vegan who didn't eat anything that cast a shadow and whatnot.
Well I'm thinking I might be on to something here: Bacon Vegetarianism. Man, that'd just spread like wildfire, that. I should call up Greenpeace and Peta and let them know I've figured out a way to stop people from killing any animals, almost — we'd have to accept the compromise that well, we'd have to sacrifice the piggies. Pigs are very intelligent and social animals, so I'm sure they wouldn't mind giving up their flesh and blood to save all other animals. They'd be like the animal kingdom's J. C. Hog Messiah.
A final note: When I ate this as leftovers, I cut it with some milk. This improved the taste quite a lot, since it originally was a tad powerful in flavor, and also a bit too salty.
Oh yeah, the soup. Chop up a head of cauliflower and three potatoes and boil it in about 4-5 cups of vegetable broth. When mushy (about 15 minutes), attack with potato masher or stick blender (or just do part of it in a stand blender or food processor) until you reach the consistency you'd like. If using a stick blender, keep it under the surface of the soup at all times. I know this sounds patronizing, because this is just basic, common sense — any cook worth his salt knows this. I did. And after tonight, I know it a little better. I breached the surface twice and I thought it was a terrible pity that it wasn't a tomato based soup, because I could have taken some pictures of the kitchen and convince people that they were pictures from the scene of some gruesome machete massacre. It was a mess.
Chop up two leeks (dirty bastard, they are. Remember to rinse it very well) and sautée them in some oil. Add to soup pot and let go for about five minutes.
Add some grated Parmesan. This provides both flavor and a thickening effect — but very importantly, also salt. The broth I used wasn't a reduced sodium version, which I normally use, and so I salted the stuff (like you normally do when boiling potatoes and such), and with the parm, it ended up a little too salty. Again, basic stuff — but I keep forgetting little things like that.
Add anything from 1 tablespoon to 1/2 cup of chopped parsley, and 1 tablespoon of chopped chives.
Add 1/4 teaspoon of freshly grated nutmeg. (I hate pre-ground nutmeg. It doesn't taste anything like the real thing. There are plenty of ground spices that taste just as good, or even better than the fresh stuff, but nutmeg is not one of them.)
Adjust seasoning with salt and white pepper and serve, garnished with more parsley.
The garnish leaves something to be desired, though. Everything's green. I'm thinking it would make more sense to use strips of red or yellow bell peppers, or capsicum peppers even. Or croûtons. Anything that isn't green — hell, some halved cherry tomatoes would improve the looks a lot, as well as adding some flavor (oh yeah, if you'd pan-fry them before adding them in).
On the side, I served some garlic Parmesan toast. Bread, margarine, lots of crushed garlic, grated parm, in the toaster oven until the cheese starts changing color — Parmesan toast, done! I've gotta stop watching "The F Word."
Ah, and this was a vegetarian meal (or possibly a vegan meal, since I used margarine instead of butter [Edit: of course not — Parmesan is a dairy product]) — quite unintended. I remain a meat eater, but between this and aloo gobi, and uh, me accidentally making a bacon and spinach quiche without bacon*, well, the vegetarian grub I come up with is often so damn good I'd be perfectly happy to eat vegetarian half of the time, methinks.
*Of course, the accident that caused the bacon and spinach quiche to be bacon-free was caused by the unintended and entirely unforeseen accident of me eating all that lovely, crispy crunchy bacon before I had a chance to add it to the quiche. But I've heard of people calling themselves vegetarians even though they eat fish (or even chicken) and labels like ovo-lacto vegetarian and/or vegan and I dunno, that Lisa Simpson fifth-level vegan who didn't eat anything that cast a shadow and whatnot.
Well I'm thinking I might be on to something here: Bacon Vegetarianism. Man, that'd just spread like wildfire, that. I should call up Greenpeace and Peta and let them know I've figured out a way to stop people from killing any animals, almost — we'd have to accept the compromise that well, we'd have to sacrifice the piggies. Pigs are very intelligent and social animals, so I'm sure they wouldn't mind giving up their flesh and blood to save all other animals. They'd be like the animal kingdom's J. C. Hog Messiah.
A final note: When I ate this as leftovers, I cut it with some milk. This improved the taste quite a lot, since it originally was a tad powerful in flavor, and also a bit too salty.
This soup/stew is from a book called "Hot Sour Salty Sweet: A Culinary Journey Through Southeast Asia," but I have no genuine idea as to how authentic it is. However, I do have some distinct ideas about what it should taste like — as well as what it should look like. :) I was quite happy with how my initial attempts tasted, but not at all happy about the way they looked. (First attempt. Second attempt.) So this time, I figured it would be a kinda third-time's-the-charm kinda deal. I figured I'd get everything right, this time around: I applied the knowledge I'd gained from my two previous attempt, and voilà — er, yeah, no, it didn't turn out perfect after all. I forgot the goddamn kaffir lime leaves! I can't believe I forgot those. Argh.
Well, I'm sure fourth time will be ever so charming... I'll post a proper recipe (providing it turns out perfect, of course).
Yup, there's three different types—or rather garlic prepared in three different ways—in this soup. Sadly, the weather just wasn't cold enough to truly enjoy it. This would be a killer soup for a cold winter day. However, if you're cooking for garlic-fiends, it's a killer any day.
This is yet another excellent America's Test Kitchen recipe. It uses minced garlic, sautéed; an entire bulb of garlic, simmered; and garlic chips, deep fried. Hey, garlic is good for you! Plus, there are an awful lot of vampires hopping around these days...
For the soup:
- 3 tbsp unsalted butter
- White and light green parts from a medium leek, chopped (don't forget to wash it)
- 6 cloves of minced garlic
- One whole bulb of garlic
- 5-6 cups low-sodium chicken broth/stock
- 2 bay leaves
- 2 lb. potatoes (use high and low starch taters for a varied texture—like russet and red)
- 1/2 cup heavy cream
- 1 1/2 tsp minced fresh thyme (less, if using dried)
- 1/4 fresh, minced chives for garnish
For the garlic chips:
- Olive oil for deep frying (in the smallest pot you have)
- Half a dozen cloves of garlic (or to you liking)
1. The soup starts by softening the finely chopped white and light green parts of a leek, in butter for about 5-8 minutes.
2. Then, add the minced garlic for 30 seconds, and a bunch of low-sodium chicken stock, a couple of bay leaves and a bit of salt—and an entire bulb of garlic with the top 1/3 cut off. If need be, add more stock to cover the bulb.
3. Cover partially and let simmer for 30-40 minutes, or until the garlic bulb is soft. Remove the garlic bulb, and using paper towels, squeeze out the contents and mash it into a pulp with a fork. Add it to the soup.
4. Add potatoes, cut into 1/2" cubes (for a more varied texture, you can use a mix of russet and red potatoes). Let simmer for an additional 20 minutes.
5. Bring olive oil to medium-high heat in a small pan and add thinly sliced garlic chips sliced lengthwise. This, you have to watch like a hawk, because I left them in too long and they got a tad too dark. They are supposed to have a bittersweet flavor, but the darker they get, the more bitter they get. I left them in too long.
6. Take the soup off the heat and add the cream.
7. Buzz the soup with a stick blender, according to desired thickness/chunkiness.
8. Serve garnished with garlic chips and chopped chives.
Dagnabbit, I keep writing "garlish" every time I try to write "garnish." I'm all garlicked out here. (Clue ridiculously hammy Klaus Kinski: "Listen to them: the children of the night—what music they make!") (Oh yeah, that's the ticket: I wanna be the Alton Brown of food blogging, heheh.)
This is yet another excellent America's Test Kitchen recipe. It uses minced garlic, sautéed; an entire bulb of garlic, simmered; and garlic chips, deep fried. Hey, garlic is good for you! Plus, there are an awful lot of vampires hopping around these days...
For the soup:
- 3 tbsp unsalted butter
- White and light green parts from a medium leek, chopped (don't forget to wash it)
- 6 cloves of minced garlic
- One whole bulb of garlic
- 5-6 cups low-sodium chicken broth/stock
- 2 bay leaves
- 2 lb. potatoes (use high and low starch taters for a varied texture—like russet and red)
- 1/2 cup heavy cream
- 1 1/2 tsp minced fresh thyme (less, if using dried)
- 1/4 fresh, minced chives for garnish
For the garlic chips:
- Olive oil for deep frying (in the smallest pot you have)
- Half a dozen cloves of garlic (or to you liking)
1. The soup starts by softening the finely chopped white and light green parts of a leek, in butter for about 5-8 minutes.
2. Then, add the minced garlic for 30 seconds, and a bunch of low-sodium chicken stock, a couple of bay leaves and a bit of salt—and an entire bulb of garlic with the top 1/3 cut off. If need be, add more stock to cover the bulb.
3. Cover partially and let simmer for 30-40 minutes, or until the garlic bulb is soft. Remove the garlic bulb, and using paper towels, squeeze out the contents and mash it into a pulp with a fork. Add it to the soup.
4. Add potatoes, cut into 1/2" cubes (for a more varied texture, you can use a mix of russet and red potatoes). Let simmer for an additional 20 minutes.
5. Bring olive oil to medium-high heat in a small pan and add thinly sliced garlic chips sliced lengthwise. This, you have to watch like a hawk, because I left them in too long and they got a tad too dark. They are supposed to have a bittersweet flavor, but the darker they get, the more bitter they get. I left them in too long.
6. Take the soup off the heat and add the cream.
7. Buzz the soup with a stick blender, according to desired thickness/chunkiness.
8. Serve garnished with garlic chips and chopped chives.
Dagnabbit, I keep writing "garlish" every time I try to write "garnish." I'm all garlicked out here. (Clue ridiculously hammy Klaus Kinski: "Listen to them: the children of the night—what music they make!") (Oh yeah, that's the ticket: I wanna be the Alton Brown of food blogging, heheh.)
One thing I seriously dislike, is pretentiousness. Maybe I've got an overly sensitive bullshit detector, but I really do appreciate the old, no-nonsense kind of approach, you know? Good thing I'm a computer nerd, and not a fashion designer, hehe.
But sometimes, the old salt-of-the-earth style just won't do. I mean, there IS a good reason why there are microbreweries and non-franchised hamburger joints: Man cannot live on Budweiser and Bigmacs alone -- at least not a sensible man.
So -- while I seriously appreciate unpretentiousness, I find myself disappointed in the Better Homes and Gardens' New Cookbook's recipe for Minestrone Soup. It relies far too heavily on canned, and pre-mixed ingredients and spices. I had some carrots and celery around, and added that to the mix, to try elevate it a little, but the end result was just depressing.
I made a minestrone soup a couple of years ago, and it was truly great. I froze it, and used it as a starter for later meals -- it always went over really well. But whatever recipe I used, it sure as hell wasn't this one. Bah.
But sometimes, the old salt-of-the-earth style just won't do. I mean, there IS a good reason why there are microbreweries and non-franchised hamburger joints: Man cannot live on Budweiser and Bigmacs alone -- at least not a sensible man.
So -- while I seriously appreciate unpretentiousness, I find myself disappointed in the Better Homes and Gardens' New Cookbook's recipe for Minestrone Soup. It relies far too heavily on canned, and pre-mixed ingredients and spices. I had some carrots and celery around, and added that to the mix, to try elevate it a little, but the end result was just depressing.
I made a minestrone soup a couple of years ago, and it was truly great. I froze it, and used it as a starter for later meals -- it always went over really well. But whatever recipe I used, it sure as hell wasn't this one. Bah.
