Mastering the art of leek and potato soup

One of the items which did not get cleaned out of the refrigerator when I made my fabulous vegetable soup was a pair of leeks.  I forget if I bought them with a purpose, or if I just had vague notions of satisfying my craving for leek and potato soup, but in the end the plan became leek and potato soup.

Now, I already knew that this soup is as basic as it gets -- leeks, potatoes, water and salt.  Puree if you like.  Add cream if you like.  And that's pretty much it.  What I was not sure of was the proportions involved, so I went looking for a recipe to tell me.

I started with my monstrous Gourmet cookbook.  With over a thousand pages, I thought I would find what I needed for sure.  There is even a quote from Ruth Reichl, the editor, on the back cover professing "Our goal was to give you a book with every recip you would ever want."  I looked in the index under leek, potato and soup.  Nothing.  More than a thousand pages, and I strik out the very first time I try to use it.  Yet another example of bigger not always being better, I suppose.

My next stop was at splendidtable.org to see what my pal Lynne Rosetto Kasper had to say on the matter.  She had what I was looking for, but she admitted that Julia was her source, specifically Julia's Kitchen Wisdom, so rather than write down or pritn out a recipe from the internet, I decided that it would be just as easy to go straight to the source.  And there it was, the very first recipe, under the heading Primal Soups.  I didn't even need to use the index!!

Given the simplicity of the recipe, I am curious to see if it shows up in Ratio by Michael Ruhlman.  One part leeks, one part potatoes, two parts water and salt to season.  Bring to a boil and then simmer, partially covered, for twenty to thirty minutes or until vegetables are tender.  Adjust seasoning as needed and serve as is or pureed, with cream on top or whisked in.

I had a little more than two cups of leeks once I chopped them up.  (Don't forget to rinse thoroughly and use white and light green parts only, composting the dark green bits.)  I chopped up a little more than two cups of potatoes.  Julia calls for "baking" potatoes.  I have red potatoes because that is what I love -- for baking, boiling, frying and mashing -- and I refuse to peel, so after a scrub and a chop, in they went.  I added four cups of water and half a cup of pinot blanc because I seem to use wine almost as often as magic cheese these days -- Valley of the Moon Pinot Blanc 2010 to be specific in this case.

I think that I could have done with less liquid -- maybe cook uncovered rather than partially covered.  I wanted creamy soup, so I pureed in half a container, about four ounces, of mascarpone cheese.  The soup was still a little thinner than I would have liked, but it tasted pretty darn good.  The second cup was almost buttery, which kind of made me wonder what a splash of lemon juice might have done for it.  I wasn't brave enough to try this time.

Following the success of this recipe, I have begun reading Julia's Kitchen Wisdom, and once again, Julia is brilliant.  If you are intimidated by Mastering the Art of French Cooking, try Julia's Kitchen Wisdom.  It's a diminutive volume, but every page is packed with recipes broken down into their building blocks -- a distillation of forty years of cooking adventures.

I have learned that "rather than using a butter-and-flour roux for thickening, you simmer rice in the soup base until very tender.  When it is turned into a very fine puree in the electric blender, you have a deliciously creamy, literally fat-free cream soup."  Brilliant!  And gluten free for those who are concerned about such things.  She did not specify what kind of rice to use, but I wonder if the naturally creamy arborio rice I have been using for risotto would be as delicious as I imagine.

Thanks to this little book, I am no longer intimidated by fish chowder and am excited to make my own.  Hollandaise sauce, on the other hand, while very clearly explained, is still kind of scary.

I am only eighteen pages in, but I have already marked half a dozen examples of Julia's trademark humor and turn of phrase.  I would quote more extensively, but I think that they would lose something when taken out of context, so you will just have to go get your own copy and read to see what I am talking about.  Go on.  You know you want to.

When meat loaf is stuffed in a pepper or a squash rather than a pan

Stuffed red and green peppers
and zucchini and yellow squash

To quote a movie I have watched entirely too many times, "I read somewhere that it's bad form to say yum while you are eating, but yum!"

When you can easily (okay, so my definition of easy cooking might be different than a lot of other people's, but bear with me just for fun) make food this good on your own, why on Earth would you eat processed crap?

I made the stuffed peppers and squash pictured to the left, and wow are they tasty.  Depending on your preferences, they could have possibly done with a bit more seasoning, but I am going to stick with wow and yum.

One large egg, one small onion (finely chopped), one shallot (finely chopped), one rib of celery (finely chopped), three to four cloves of garlic (minced), three tablespoons of ketchup, and about one quarter cup fresh parsley (chopped) were all whisked together in a large bowl.  (As a side note, I purchased a set of Duralex bowls not too long ago, and I love them.  They are lighter than my trusty Pyrex, but I think just as sturdy, and come in many more sizes.)  Salt and pepper were added to season.  (I didn't use much of either.)  Next a generous handful each of Panko bread crumbs and magic cheese (blend of Romano, Asiago and Parmesan) were mixed in.  (If you want to measure, go with 1/4 cup.)  Into the mixture was folded a pound of ground turkey.  Oh, and the innards scraped out of the squash.  (Another side note: a butter knife is excellent for scraping out said squash.)

Peppers (cut in half cross ways with seeds and ribs removed) and squash (sliced lengthwise and hollowed out) were stuffed with turkey mixture, placed in oiled baking dish.  Marinara was spooned over the top, about a tablespoon per pepper or squash half.  The lot was baked for 45 minutes at 400 degrees and then removed from oven and baking pan onto platter where they were sprinkled with a bit more cheese.  More marinara sauce could be added to taste, but these were plenty moist as is.

For me, they make a fine meal on their own, but some rice or cous cous or pilaf on the side might not be a bad idea.  Or maybe a salad and some garlic bread.

Overall, pretty low fat and low sodium -- certainly lower fat than regular meat loaf, which the stuffing ends up resembling once cooked -- except for the cheese, but you could reduce or omit that.  Oats could be substituted for bread crumbs.  I use oats most of the time when I make meat loaf.  The ketchup might be evil (despite Reagan's classification of it as a vegetable ... although aren't tomatoes fruit?) in terms of sodium, but with only three tablespoons in the whole recipe, it works out to something like a teaspoon or teaspoon and a half per serving.  Nevertheless a bit of Worcestershire sauce (which is probably equally evil, if not more so) or balsamic vinegar could be a decent replacement, as could a bit of homemade marinara sauce -- just something to give it a little more flavor and something else besides the egg to bind it all together.  Oh yes, the egg.  Well, again, one egg in the entire recipe, but the corresponding dose of egg substitute ought to work as well.  Otherwise it has no business being called egg substitute.  It should be more like egg approximation.

All in all, an excellent, lower fat meat loaf alternative.  (Once more, I say yum!)

Rainy day cooking

Today was one of those perfect, cold, gray, rainy days just made for cooking, so after I spent a surprisingly short amount of time at the DMV renewing my driver's license, I picked up a loaf of sourdough bread and some sour cream and went home to make soup, which is not only an excellent activity for a rainy wintry afternoon, but also a great way to clean out the refrigerator (provided that anything fuzzy or out of date does not actually make it into the pot).

I chopped up a large red onion, a shallot, three stalks of celery, a small bunch of slightly wilted carrots, at least half a dozen cloves of garlic, half a small head of cabbage, two small zucchini, one small yellow squash, one broccoli crown, and about eight medium-sized white mushrooms.

The onion, shallot, garlic, celery, and carrots went into my larger enameled cast iron pot (like Le Creuset but not) with enough oil to coat and seasoned with sea salt and fresh ground pepper.  (I have a nice blend of peppercorns.)  They were cooked, covered, over medium low heat for about fifteen minutes, stirred frequently to keep them from sticking and burning.

Seasonings went in next -- dried basil and paprika (two teaspoons each) and tomato paste (two heaping tablespoons -- and the lot was stirred together and cooked at a higher temperature for a couple of minutes.  I always find that the vegetables get a bit dry at this point, in danger of burning, so I add half a cup of wine to keep everything moist and yet still hot.  This time it was Grappa La Court red wine.

Then the rest of the chopped vegetables were added, along with a couple of handfuls of spinach, which I did not chop, another one and a half cups of wine and six cups of vegetable broth.  I think I chopped up a bit more cabbage and threw that in as well.

I simmered the lot for about twenty minutes and then started tasting.  Yum!  The wine is rather strong, and fairly tannic, so the broth was a shade bitter.  I ground in a little more sea salt and some herbs (a blend which came packaged in their own little grinder), and simmered a bit longer.  Even more yum!

A hefty slice of sourdough bread, and lunch was served.

One of the main reasons I make a version of this soup fairly often is that it freezes really well and is therefore great to take to work for lunch, so I am set for lunches next week.

Mushroom and Pappardelle Soup with Gremolata

Vegetarian Times January/February 2012, page 30  http://www.vegetariantimes.com/recipes/11828

I still don't know what pappardelle noodles are, although I am sure that a small amount of research would remedy the situation, and they could perhaps be a project for my fancy new pasta maker.  Given that there are no instructions for cooking the noodles ahead of time, I am guessing that they must be pretty close to fresh in order to be cooked after simmering in soup broth for about 6 minutes.  I used medium shells instead and boiled them while preparing the rest of the soup.

I did not cover the pot while bringing the soup to a boil and can't help wondering if that omission on my part accounts for the relative thinness of the broth.

I used white mushroom rather than cremini and threw in a few baby bellas for good measure because I do so love the portabellas, and rather than one large onion, I diced a large shallot, a small yellow onion, and a small red onion.

Produced by Vina La Fortuna
S.A. Sagrada Familia, Chile

As usual, I substituted part of the broth for wine.  In this case, 7 cups of broth became 5 cups of broth and 2 cups of my favorite sauvignon blanc.  Culpeo sauvignon blanc from the Curico Valley in Chile is wonderful for both drinking and cooking -- lighter and a bit more accessible or friendly than what I generally think of when I think of sauvignon blanc.

I did not drag out the food processor for 1/3 cup of parsley, 1 clove of garlic and 2 teaspoons of grated lemon zest.  I chopped up the lot and used the mortar and pestle instead, which worked just fine as far as I can tell.

Is it just me, or is grating zest a pain?  Relatively speaking, a lot of effort for not a lot of return.  It also seems a bit wasteful to buy an entire fruit and only use a very thin outer layer of the peel, but then it is not exactly difficult to find a use for the rest of the lemon.  I'll have to investigate the possibility of acquiring packaged zest since the lack of same will often deter me from trying a recipe.

I added more noodles to the leftovers.  If the recipe were made as a thicker, alfredo sort of sauce, it would go nicely over fettuccine or baked chicken -- anything that likes cream sauce really. Peas would be a nice complement to the beans and mushrooms as well.

Starting the long weekend off with a bang (of sorts)

Harvey Wallbanger Cake from the kitchen of Ann Harwood Bryce
Cake
1 package 2-layer size orange cake mix
1 3¾-ounce package instant vanilla pudding mix
4 eggs
½ cup orange juice
2 tbsp vodka
½ cup cooking oil
½ cup Galliano

Glaze
1 cup sifted powdered sugar
1 tbsp orange juice
1 tbsp Galliano
1 tbsp vodka

In large mixing bowl, combine cake mix and pudding mix. Add eggs, oil, juice, Galliano and vodka. Beat on low speed for 30 seconds. Beat on medium speed for 5 minutes, scraping bowl frequently. Pour into greased and floured 10-inch tube pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes, or pour into 2 greased and floured 9-inch round pans and bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Cool in pan for ten minutes. Remove to rack and pour on glaze while cake is warm.

The naming of cookbooks

The cookbook officially has a name -- Cook Until Done: A Collection of Recipes and Stories from Family and Friends.

This sage and elucidative advice was given to me by my father when I called him the first time I decided to make meat loaf on my own.  At least I am pretty sure that it was meat loaf.  It could have been bread.  But it is usually meat loaf when I tell the story, so I am going to stick with meat loaf.

I have come across the same and similar direction in quite a few of the recipes I am collecting.  "Bake in moderate oven."  "Bake at 375" (with no indication of length of time).  Or sometimes the temperature is left out.  "Bake one hour."  There is the occasional admonishment of not overcooking or undercooking, but generally there is an assumed level of kitchen sense.

The more I cook and experiment, the more I understand these vague directions -- you get a feel for how things look and smell at various stages -- but I still understand the wish and need for specifics when approaching a recipe for the first time, so as I write and revise I am attempting to fill in the details and come up with descriptions for what "done" might mean, as well as the methods for achieving it.

I just hope I can do it without testing every single recipe.

Today's find: Orange Muffins

Because I thought that this recipe was more fun than the banana bread recipe which did not have bananas in the ingredient list.

Orange Muffins from the kitchen of M. Corbitt, from the recipe file of Ann Harwood Bryce

Makes 3 dozen small muffins

1 cup butter or margaine
2 eggs
1 tsp baking soda
Grated rind of 2 oranges
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup sugar
1 cup buttermilk
2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
Juice of 2 oranges

Cream butter and sugar.  Add eggs.  Beat until well mixed.  Dissolve the baking soda in buttermilk and add it, alternating with the flour, to the egg mixture.  Add orange rind.  Fill well-buttered muffin tins 2/3 full.  Bake at 400 degrees for 20 to 25 minutes.  Mix orange juice and brown sugar.  Spoon over muffins and remove them from tins immediately.

Omelette w/ portabella mushrooms, red onion and medium cheddar cheese

3 eggs, well beaten with a splash of milk
Handful chopped baby portabella mushrooms
Handful finely chopped red onion
4 slices medium cheddar cheese**

Over medium heat, saute onion and mushrooms in a bit of butter and olive oil until soft -- 3 or 4 minutes.  (I read somewhere recently that adding olive oil keeps the butter from burning.  Very handy tip.)  Add a little pepper if you like.  Salt is not necessary.  There is plenty of salt in the butter and cheese.  Scrape into small bowl and set aside.  Return pan to heat.  Add a little more butter.  (You can use non-stick spray if butter is not your friend.)  When butter has melted, pour in the beaten eggs.  Cook, without flipping, until eggs are almost set.  Spread onions and mushrooms over one half of the eggs.  Layer cheese over mushrooms and onions.  Fold eggs up over mushroom, onion, cheese mixture so that you have a sort of half moon of egg with the goodies in the middle.  Lower heat slightly to prevent burning.  Once you think that everything will hold together, gently flip the omelette.  Use a spatula rather than the courage of your convictions.  After another minute, turn off heat.  Serve omelette on warmed plate.  (It may seem like a minor detail, but a warmed plate makes a big difference.  Run it under warm water.  Set it on the stove while cooking if it won't be in the way.  Or pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds or so.)

**Swiss would be better, but cheddar is what I had in the fridge.

For your next Kentucky Derby Day -- you know, to go with the hat

Kentucky Bourbon Chicken from the kitchen of Ann Harwood Bryce

8 chicken breasts

Flour

Salt & Pepper & Paprika to taste

½ cup butter

1 pound fresh mushrooms, sliced

2 ounces bourbon

2 10-ounce cans cream of chicken soup

¾ tsp curry powder

Parsley and almonds for garnish

Dust chicken with flour, salt, pepper, paprika.  Saute in hot butter.  Brown and place in casserole.  Saute mushrooms, and add to chicken.  Add bourbon to skillet to deglaze.  Stir in soup and curry.  Stir until smooth and thick.  Pour over chicken.  Sprinkle parsley and slivered almonds over top.  Bake at 350 degrees for 2 hours.

(I can’t help thinking that the garnish of parsley and almonds should be added either late in the baking or just before serving.)

Risotto redux

It's never a good idea to go to the grocery store when hungry and without a list, but I haven't been grocery shopping in a while, wasn't enthusiastic about anything that is in the freezer, and was pretty much out of symbiotic ingredients, so I decided to risk it.

I came home with some cheese (of course), zucchini, breaded whitefish from the seafood counter, a bag of risotto, red onions and baby portabella mushrooms.  There were a few other things, too, but they didn't go into dinner.

I chopped up a cup of the portabellas and sauteed them for a couple of minutes in a bit of butter and olive oil in a spacious frying pan.  (As Julia says, don't crowd the mushrooms or they won't brown.  Same goes for meat, I have noticed.)  I moved the pan off the heat, got out a sauce pan and sauted half a red onion (chopped) and two cloves of garlic (also chopped) in a bit of oil.

I have discovered that all you really need is enough oil or fat to coat whatever you are cooking.  The big puddles called for in a lot of recipes are completely unnecessary, especially when working with a food with fairly high moisture content (i.e. mushrooms or zucchini).  The moisture released by the food keeps everything moving around and not sticking, but a little oil still gives it that yumminess.

A cup of risotto joined the onion and garlic, followed shortly by a cup of vegetable stock.  Again with the stirring until absorbed noted in the previous recipe.  Then a cup of a Riesling which wasn't too impressive on its own but turned out to do very good things for risotto.  Then another cup of stock.  And a bit more wine for good measure.  The mushrooms when in right near the end of all of the adding and stirring of the liquid.

I cubed up a bit of muenster cheese and added that over the top when I served the rice.  The mostly steamed zucchini was a nice complement.  The fish was a bit nondescript, but not bad given that I bought it pre-breaded.  But the risotto was the star.

All in all, not bad for an improvised Tuesday night dinner.  Not bad at all.