Soup is good food

When people in the Northwest talk about the incessant rain, I look out my window and curse the blue sky. More sun in California. I long for wet winters in Oregon and the afternoons I spent years ago in my studio apartment cooking soup. A pot would last a week.

I am reminded of the energizing chill in that corner of the country, the smell of the air outside after a night of hard rain and the red scarf that helped to keep me warm. Soft and thick, it was one of my favorite items of clothing. It now sits neatly folded near the bottom of a dresser drawer, mostly untouched.

When friends in New England speak of the biting cold, I sympathize. They grumble about the low temperatures and slick pavements; I worry about their health and safety. But I envy them as well. When they describe the icy weather, I think of the small, cozy kitchens to which they will eventually return.

I imagine the steam rising from the bowls of soup they will undoubtedly enjoy: hearty chowders prepared with russet potatoes, chopped clams and heavy cream, spicy gumbos simmered with chunks of seafood, meat and vegetables. I get nostalgic for places I am not.

On cold days in the Bay Area, when close friends and neighbors complain about falling temperatures and increasingly wet roads, I smile surreptitiously. Deep down, I welcome the wild weather. Finally, there is an excuse to make soup. Craving things like split pea and barley, I eagerly dig into recipes collected from books and magazines.

One rainy afternoon, I consider making a pea and ham soup by Australian food writer Donna Hay or a squash, parma ham hock, sage, onion and barley broth from British chef Jamie Oliver. In the end, I settle on hamburger barley soup, made from a recipe given to me years ago by an older sister. It promises to be easy and satisfying, tasty and comforting.

First, I brown the beef. Ground turkey could substitute well, too; I make a mental note for the future. Using a pot instead of a frying pan helps to facilitate cleanup. Into that large pot, I add chopped tomatoes, tomato juice, water, vegetables, seasonings and barley, saving the carrots and potatoes for later. When things come to a boil, the heat gets turned down.

As the soup simmers, I work on other things. I write. I wander through the house, tidying up the living room and bedroom. I flip on the radio. I surf the Internet.

Roughly 45 minutes later, back in the kitchen, now warm and fragrant, the colors in the pot are impressive: deep reds, dark and light greens, sprinkles of black. Carrots and potatoes go in next, giving the dish additional colors and textures.

While the ingredients continue to cook, I grab my keys, my coat and my red scarf, and head for the front door. I go for a walk around the neighborhood. The chill in the air outside keeps me alert. Life is good, I tell myself, wiping a raindrop from my forehead. When I return, there will be soup.

(A version of this essay appeared originally on www.npr.org.)

"Plenty"

"For me, every food can be special. I always think you can add beauty and luxury to a dish by adding lots of herbs to it.

"I think a huge platter always looks better than a small plate, so to make my guests welcome and feel special I put many beautiful platters with food, as I do in my shops, so it's quite a lot around, a lot to choose from.

"Once you've done that, you can make the simplest things in the world, and still everyone thinks you've gone to the longest of efforts, but actually it's as simple as that."

Yotam Ottolenghi, author of "Plenty: Vibrant Vegetable Recipes from London's Ottolenghi," on NPR's Weekend Edition Sunday

Picking a peach

"Consider where the fruit came from. If it came from 3,000 miles away, then bear in mind that it was probably picked at a much more immature stage, and it's not going to be as ripe and delicious. If it came from a neighboring state, it's probably a whole lot riper."

Desmond Layne, Clemson University peach specialist, on NPR's "All Things Considered"

A human noodle vacuum

"You're gonna slurp those noodles. You're not chewing them. You're not cutting them up. You're trying to inhale them like a human noodle vacuum. And they should slurp in a pleasing way...

"And then that broth that they're served in, it should dress the noodles. It should coat the noodles. It should flavor the noodles. It seems like the simplest thing for a bowl of noodle soup to do. But when you're in front of a bowl and that's happening... you're most of the way there..."

Peter Meehan, co-editor of Lucky Peach, on a proper bowl of ramen on NPR's "All Things Considered"

Peeling the banana

Who knew the banana could be such a complicated fruit? Or, perhaps more accurately, who didn't know? Really.

Dan Koeppel's book "Banana: The Fate of the Fruit That Changed the World" is fascinating.

"The more I researched, the more it became clear that there's nothing we eat - that the world eats - more paradoxical than the banana," he writes. "The humble treat we pack into our lunchboxes is among the most complex crops cultivated by humans. In ancient times, the fruit helped the earliest farmers put down roots and establish communities. In the modern era, the banana - literally - has destroyed nations and ruined lives."

Koeppel's segment on "Science Friday" with Ira Flatow on NPR is equally fascinating.

Grillin'

"One of the extraordinary things about grilling, it's a public event. It's a theatrical event. It's a social event. People do not gather around a stove to watch a pot of soup simmer, or an oven to watch a cake bake. But when you grill, instantly, you have a crowd."

Steve Raichlen, author of "The Barbecue! Bible," on NPR's "Morning Edition"

Who knew?

NPR has an interesting piece on Lunar New Year's feasts in the Caribbean island of Trinidad.

"(In) Trinidad, Chinese food is staple fare," Ramin Ganeshram writes. "We eat fried rice once a week. Chow mein is as common as a casserole. Stir fries with calabaza pumpkin, taro root and hot pepper are everyday foods, and soy sauce is a regular ingredient in brown stewed meats."

We never suspected.

Chocolate and Guinness

To mark St. Patrick's Day, Nigella Lawson offers up, among other dishes, a chocolate Guinness cake "loaded with sugar, chocolate and a cream cheese frosting that recalls the foamy head of a pint" on NPR.

The cake would also work well without frosting. Now if only I actually had a bottle of Guinness somewhere in the house.

Chocolate Guinness Cake
from "Feast" by Nigella Lawson

1 cup Guinness
1 stick plus 2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa
2 cups superfine sugar
3/4 cup sour cream
2 eggs
1 Tbsp. pure vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/2 tsp. baking soda

for the topping:

8 ounces cream cheese
1 1/4 cups confectioners' sugar
1/2 cup heavy cream

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F, and butter and line a 9-inch springform pan.

Pour the Guinness into a large wide saucepan, add the butter - in spoons or slices - and heat until the butter's melted, at which time you should whisk in the cocoa and sugar.

Beat the sour cream with the eggs and vanilla and then pour into the brown, buttery, beery pan and finally whisk in the flour and baking soda.

Pour the cake batter into the greased and lined pan and bake for 45 minutes to an hour. Leave to cool completely in the pan on a cooling rack, as it is quite a damp cake.

When the cake's cold, sit it on a flat platter or cake stand and get on with the frosting. Lightly whip the cream cheese until smooth, sift over the confectioner's sugar and then beat them both together. Or do this in a processor, putting the unsifted confectioners' sugar in first and blitz to remove lumps before adding the cheese.

Add the cream and beat again until it makes a spreadable consistency. Ice the top of the black cake so that it resembles the frothy top of the famous pint. Makes 12 servings.

Hope

Among the best paragraphs in Pres. Obama's inaugural address:

"For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace."

Among the best photos of the day, from Getty Images:



And so I remain awed by the achievement of a junior senator from Illinois, and fascinated by the family that surrounds him.