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.)

Turkey Day

Because it is silly and so over the top.

Taking it slow

"You're living a slow life when you gather seashells along the shore, feed a campfire, visit a nearly empty museum on a weekday morning, talk late into the night, read an ink-on-paper book cover to cover without stopping to do much else, and, I would say, if you take the time to be bored. 

"Part of being civilized is not just being slow but occasionally coming to a stop, establishing a point of reference for the moment when you start moving again. When you stop you aren't really stopping, of course, because that's often when good ideas rise to the surface..."

Edward Behr in "Slow Cooking, Slow Eating" from "Best Food Writing 2013"

Ramen done right

"In Japan, ramen is much more than a tasty bowl of noodles - it borders on an obsession. Forget that cheapo 'cup ramen' you downed to fuel college all-nighters. What we're talking about is perfection in a bowl: a rich broth labored over for hours; fresh, springy wheat noodles; savory, mouthwatering seasonings; and toppings like slices of tender braised meat and creamy soft-boiled egg. 

"But ramen isn't some high-concept cuisine, and that's the beauty of it. These noodles can be one of the most amazing things you've ever tasted, but this dish is about as down-home and down-to-earth as it gets." 

Tadashi Ono and Harris Salat in "Japanese Soul Cooking: Ramen, Tonkatsu, Tempura, and More from the Streets and Kitchens of Tokyo and Beyond"

Frightful

Because we couldn't resist.

Noodle pull

"I knew that I wanted a bright, modern place, but it had to be unmistakable as a ramen shop. I was a gaijin trying to break into the highly scrutinized, carefully documented, publicly policed world capital of noodle shops. There would be people ready to harp on every missed detail. 

"We ultimately decided to keep the bones of the old shop, but jazzed up the counter with a dark wood-grain laminate, squared off the corners, and added steel trim. We added lighting above and below the bar.

"Most ramen shops have stools for seating, and generally they're the most uncomfortable stools you can find. Ramen shops are all about fast turnover, and owners don't want customers to feel like they can hang around.

"But I wanted my business to be focused on service, just like Lutece had been all those years earlier. I bought nice comfortable stools with backs and decided to worry about shooing customers out the door later."

Ivan Orkin in "Ivan Ramen: Love, Obsession, and Recipes from Tokyo's Most Unlikely Noodle Joint"

Mac and cheese 2.0

Point Reyes Original Blue with Pecans, Figs and Shells

from Stephanie Stiavetti and Garrett McCord's "Melt: The Art of Macaroni and Cheese"

1/2 cup pecans
3 Tbsp. butter
12 ounces whole wheat shell pasta
4 ounces Point Reyes Original Blue, coarsely crumbled
3/4 cup chopped mission figs
sea salt
freshly ground black pepper

Place the pecans in a single layer on a baking sheet. Roast in a 350-degree F oven for 7 minutes. Set aside to cool. Once they're cooled, chop the pecans coarsely.

Heat a heavy-bottomed skillet over medium heat. Add the butter and cook. The butter will foam and then subside. Eventually, lightly browned specks will form on the bottom of the pan. The butter will turn a light brown and begin to smell nutty. Be sure to keep an eye on it, as it can go from brown to black in an instant. Remove from the heat immediately and pour into a bowl.

Cook the pasta in a large pot of salted boiling water until al dente. Drain through a colander. Place back in the pot with the heat still on. Combine the noodles with the brown butter and Point Reyes Original Blue and gently toss until the cheese has softened and melted a little. Add the pecans and figs and continue tossing. Add salt and pepper to taste and serve. Makes 4 servings.

Provence

"It was the question of France that loomed largest, and meant the most, for all of them. The very idea of transcendent cooking, of cooking as an art form, the rituals of haute cuisine, the luxury and decadence of a bearnaise sauce or mille-feuille pastry, the wit of the seminal gastronome Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, the knowledge of chefs Marie-Antoine Careme and Auguste Escoffier - that was all French, and always had been.

"But a seismic shift was in the offing. And there was no better place to see it coming, to feel the looming, moving fault lines, than in the steep, rocky hills of Provence in late 1970."

Luke Barr in "Provence, 1970: M.F.K. Fisher, Julia Child, James Beard, and the Reinvention of American Taste"

How sweet

Because the morning - cold and hazy and moody - calls for something sweet.

Autumn apples

Low-hanging fruit.

Shocking

Shocking Pink Pasta

from Clotilde Dusoulier's "The French Market Cookbook: Vegetarian Recipes from My Parisian Kitchen"

12 ounces beets, peeled and diced
1 cup light whipping cream or unsweetened non-dairy cream alternative, such as soy or rice
1 clove garlic
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. whole cumin seeds or 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1 pound pasta, such as spaghetti, bucatini or linguine
freshly ground black pepper
1 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves
2/3 cup almonds, toasted and roughly chopped

In a food processor or blender, combine the beets, cream, garlic, salt and cumin. Process until smooth.

Bring salted water to a boil in a large pot. Add the pasta and cook until it's a minute shy of al dente. Drain, return the pasta to the pot, and fold in the sauce. Return to medium heat and cook until heated through and al dente, about 1 minute.

Divide among warm bowls, sprinkle with pepper, and top with the parsley and almonds. Serve immediately. Makes 4 servings.

"Notes" from Nigel

"We can either treat food as nothing more than fuel or relish its every quality. We can think of preparing it as something to get done as quickly and effortlessly as possible or as something to find pleasure in, something to enrich our everyday life, to have fun with...

"I am not a chef and never have been. I am a home cook who writes about food. Not even a passionate cook (whatever one of those is), just a quietly enthusiastic and slightly greedy one. But, I like to think, a thoughtful one. Someone who cares about what they feed themselves and others, where the ingredients come from, when and why they are at their best, and how to use them to give everyone, including the cook, the most pleasure..."

Nigel Slater in "Notes from the Larder: A Kitchen Diary with Recipes"

Autumn linguine

Linguine with Mushroom Bacon Sauce

from Michelle Obama's "American Grown: The Story of the White House Kitchen Garden and Gardens Across America"

1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 Tbsp. unsalted butter
4 slices bacon, cut into small pieces
6 cloves garlic, minced
1 medium onion, chopped
1 1/2 pounds shiitake mushrooms, stems removed, sliced 1/4-inch thick
1 cup half-and-half
1/2 cup low-sodium chicken stock
1 14-1/2-ounce box whole-wheat linguine
zest and juice of 1 lemon
1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
salt
freshly ground black pepper

In a large saucepan over medium heat, drizzle in the olive oil and add the butter. Add the bacon and cook for about 2 minutes. Add the garlic and onion and cook until translucent, 5 to 7 minutes. Add the mushrooms and cook for about 5 minutes, until fragrant, stirring occasionally.

Add the half-and-half and chicken stock and let simmer for about 10 minutes.

While the sauce is cooking, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook the pasta for about 8 minutes, until al dente.

Drain the pasta and add it to the saucepan. Add the lemon zest and juice, parsley and Parmesan. Toss the pasta with the sauce until thoroughly coated. Season with salt and pepper. Serve immediately on a warmed platter. Makes 6 to 8 servings.

Making meat

"On the shelves of the Fatted Calf charcuterie, you'll find buckets brimming with salt and stacked containers crammed with whole spices. Tubs of garlic, onions and shallots are stored underneath trays of drying lavender, thyme and oregano.

"Baskets of chanterelles and bins of herbs and citrus are kept in the cooler. Stashes of dried apricots and porcini sit alongside jars of dried arbols and cayennes. Meat makes up the core of the charcuterie, but our pantry provides us with a palette of flavors with which to work."

Taylor Boetticher and Toponia Miller in their book "In the Charcuterie: The Fatted Calf's Guide to Making Sausage, Salumi, Pates, Roasts, Confits and Other Meaty Goods"

What we eat

"A certain logic dictates why we eat three meals a day, not two or four; why table manners are standard at dinner when hardly any social rules apply to breakfast; why we consume orange juice in the morning and sandwiches at lunch; why people snack on peanuts at circuses and hot dogs at baseball parks.

"There are even reasons for garnishing casseroles with potato chips and calling TV dinners 'TV dinners,' even though manufacturers did not originally intend for consumers to eat them in front of a TV. This book is about those reasons."

Abigail Carroll in "Three Squares: The Invention of the American Meal"

The cheesiest

Homeroom in junior high school was a bust, from what I remember. But Homeroom, the mac and cheese place in Oakland, is a little gem of a restaurant. Co-owners Allison Arevalo and Erin Wade have put out a little gem of a cookbook, too, with tons of recipes.
 
Tuna Mac
 
from Allison Arevalo and Erin Wade's "The Mac + Cheese Cookbook: 50 Simple Recipes from Homeroom, America's Favorite Mac and Cheese Restaurant"
 
for the pasta: 

1/2 pound dried elbow pasta

Cook the pasta in salted boiling water until a little less than al dente. Drain, rinse the pasta with cold water, and drain it again.

for the tuna salad:
 
16 ounces canned tuna in water, drained
1/4 cup finely chopped onion
2 Tbsp. drained capers
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup finely chopped celery
2 tsp. kosher salt
1/4 to 1/2 tsp. freshly ground black pepper  

To make the salad: 

In a bowl, combine all the ingredients until they are incorporated and evenly distributed. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

for the Mac Sauce:

3 cups whole milk
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 tsp. kosher salt or 1 tsp. table salt  

To make the sauce: 

Heat the milk in a pot over medium heat until it just starts to bubble, but is not boiling, 3 to 4 minutes. Remove from the heat.  

Heat the butter over medium heat in a separate, heavy-bottomed pot. When the butter has just melted, add the flour and whisk constantly until the mixture turns light brown, about 3 minutes. Remove from the heat.

Slowly pour the warm milk, about 1 cup at a time, into the butter-flour mixture, whisking constantly. It will get very thick when you first add the milk, and thinner as you slowly pour in the entire 3 cups. This is normal.  

Once all the milk has been added, set the pot back over medium-high heat, and continue to whisk constantly. In the next 2 to 3 minutes the sauce should come together and become silky and thick. Add the salt.

The Mac Sauce is ready to use immediately and does not need to cool. Store it in the fridge for a day or two if you want to make it ahead of time. It will get a lot thicker when put in the fridge, so it may need a little milk to thin it out a bit when it comes time to melt in the cheese. Try melting the cheese into the sauce first, and if it is too thick, then add milk as needed. Makes 3 cups.
 
for the Mac:

2 cups of Mac Sauce 
2 cups grated Havarti cheese
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
1 cup crushed potato chips or crushed oyster crackers, for topping (optional)
 
To make the Mac: 

Add the sauce, the Havarti, 1 cup of the tuna salad (save the rest for a sandwich or whatever else you'd like), and the peas to a large, heavy-bottomed pot and cook over medium heat. Stir until the cheese is barely melted, about 3 minutes. Slowly add the cooked pasta, stir, and continue cooking while stirring continuously until the dish is nice and hot, another 5 minutes.

Spoon into bowls, top with crushed potato chips or crushed crackers, and serve. Makes 4 servings.

On change

"I'm also the girl who took the same lunch to school every single day for the first fourteen years of her life. Every single day. The contents of the brown bag were as follows: carrot sticks, two cookies, and Peter Pan creamy peanut butter on whole wheat bread. There was no jam, no jelly, no crunchy peanut butter, no natural peanut butter, no white bread, no seeded bread, and no change.

"Sometimes I think my taste buds may be the eighth wonder of the world. How they survived such monotony is one of the great mysteries of our time...

"I am happy to report, though, that in recent years, I've been working on getting friendlier with change, and with its cousin, flexibility. Growing up has helped a lot... It's a lot more fun this way. No one ever got laid because they wrote it into their day planner.

"Which, I guess, brings me to a larger, more serious point: that it's hard to love someone, I've found, when you're preoccupied with holding your entire world firmly in place. Loving someone requires a certain amount of malleability, a willingness to be pulled along, at least occasionally, by another person's will..."

Molly Wizenberg in "A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from My Kitchen Table"

For keeps

"Cooking should be fun, empowering even, at least some of the time. 

"Put on your favorite music, pour a glass of wine, admire how a sharp knife slices through a ripe tomato, savor the aroma of a roasting chicken, congratulate yourself on how evenly you seared the salmon, dip some bread into simmering tomato sauce. 

"When you start to enjoy the process of cooking, not just the result, everything else gets easier, too."

Kathy Brennan and Caroline Campion in "Keepers: Two Home Cooks Share Their Tried-and-True Weeknight Recipes and the Secrets to Happiness in the Kitchen"

Piece of cake

If only it was that easy...

Curly corn

Fusilli with Corn Sauce

from Joe Yonan's "Eat Your Vegetables: Bold Recipes for the Single Cook"

3 ounces whole wheat fusilli, farfalle or other curly pasta
2 ears fresh corn
1 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 large onion, chopped (about 3/4 cup)
1 clove garlic, thinly sliced
2 Tbsp. freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese
salt
freshly ground black pepper
4 fresh basil leaves, stacked, rolled and thinly sliced

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and cook the pasta until it is al dente.

While the pasta is cooking, shuck the corn and rinse it under running water, removing as many of the silks as you can with your hands. Rub one of the ears over a coarse grater set over a bowl to catch the milk and pulp. Cut the kernels off the other cob with a knife; keep the whole kernels separate from the milk and pulp.

Pour the oil into a large skillet set over medium heat. When the oil starts to shimmer, add the onion and garlic and saute until tender. Add the corn kernels and saute for just a few minutes, until the corn softens slightly and brightens in color. Stir in the corn milk and pulp and turn off the heat. Cover to keep warm.

When the pasta is al dente, drain it (reserving 1/2 cup of the pasta water) and add it to the skillet with the corn sauce. Toss to combine, adding a little pasta water if the sauce needs loosening. Stir in the cheese, then taste and add salt as needed and grind in plenty of fresh black pepper. Stir in the basil, scoop everything into a bowl, and eat. Makes 1 serving.