It is that time of year.  I really need a big bowl of sunshine.  Fresh, local produce is between growth spurts, and I am generally a little tired of the dark, leafy greens that have dominated the farmers market for a while now.  Though we’ve had surprisingly spring-like weather, it is that transitional time.  Not still winter, but not yet spring.  I’m working my way through the supply of fruits and vegetables I canned and froze during the summer, and dreaming of the abundance of fresh produce to come.

That’s where this soup comes in.  I can still get sweet potatoes at the farmers market, and their beautiful orange color sustains me until the greens, yellows and reds of spring are here.  The apples aren’t local, but add a tart-sweet depth to this lovely soup, brightened with zingy ginger.  It is great on its own, but you swirl in some crème fraiche for added richness or a drizzled of olive oil.  It is a great host for crispy toppings, anything from bacon to croutons to sweet potato chips.  A little pile of chopped green apple, a squeeze of lemon or lime, a shower or chopped herbs – let your imagination run wild. Whatever your preference, I think you’ll feel like me.  Eating a big bowl of this soup makes me happy.

Sweet Potato and Apple Soup

3 Tablespoons butter

1 large white onion, chopped

1 stalk celery, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 – inch piece fresh ginger, chopped

2 ¼ pounds sweet potatoes (about 4 medium), peeled and cut into chunks

2 green apples, peeled, cored and cut into chunks

8 cups chicken or vegetable broth

Salt and pepper to taste

In a large (7-quart) Dutch oven, melt the butter over medium heat.  Add the onions to the butter, stirring to coat.  Cook the onions until soft and translucent, but not browned, stirring frequently, about 10 minutes.  Add the chopped celery and cook for a few more minutes until soft.  Add the garlic and ginger, stir to coat and cook a further minute.  Add the sweet potato chunks and the apple pieces and stir to coat, then immediately pour in the broth.  Bring the soup to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer, covered, until the potatoes and apples are completely soft, about 30 minutes.

Using an immersion blender or very carefully in batches in a blender, puree the soup.  Season with salt. The soup will keep, covered, in the fridge for a day.  Reheat gently before serving.

Serves 6 – 8

I love this simple soup, but you can jazz it up by sprinkling a Tablespoon of curry powder over the onion mixture before adding the sweet potatoes and apples. Stir it into the onions and let it cook for a minute or so until it is very fragrant.

Making homemade crackers is one of the little culinary secrets I love so much.  It never occurs to most people that making your own is something that can or would be done.  But it is easy to do and pretty impressive when you serve homemade crackers.  It took me awhile to get where I wanted to go with making my own crackers.  I read and sampled a lot of recipes.  Some were too complicated, some just weren’t good, most were fine, but plain.  I fiddled around until I had a base recipe that worked with a lot of different flavor additions – herbs and spices and cheese.  But this version literally hit me like a lightning bolt.  I was serving myself a bowl of soup one night, and doling out some (store-bought) plain crackers and I suddenly thought – bacon crackers.  Could it be possible?  I went to work immediately, and here is where I landed.

These crispy, salty little gems are the perfect sidecar for a bowl of soup, particularly with Pimento Cheese Soup.  That being said, they also take pimento cheese spread to a whole new level.  These are excellent on a cheese platter, with a creamy brie, a salty goat or a tangy blue.  Or smeared with a little butter.  Frankly, they are good all on their own.

If you have a fancy-edged pastry roller this is a great place to use it.  Personally, I like the rough and rustic look.  Not all my crackers are even or perfect, but if I actually make my own crackers, I want them to look homemade!  The crackers do need to be roughly the same size on the same baking sheet for even cooking.

Bacon Crackers

4 strips of bacon, cooked very crispy

1 ¾ cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 ½ teaspoons baking powder

¼ teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for sprinkling

1 Tablespoon solidified bacon fat

5 tablespoons cold butter, cut into small cubes

1/2 to 2/3 cup very cold water

1 Tablespoon butter, melted

Preheat the oven to 350°. Line 2 rimmed baking sheets with a silicone liner or parchment paper.

Pat the cooled bacon with paper towels to remove as much grease as possible.  Break the bacon into pieces into the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade.  Pulse several times to chop the bacon very finely.  Scrape the bacon out of the bowl and set aside.  Do not worry of there is some bacon residue left on the sides of the bowl.

Place the flour, baking soda, salt and one Tablespoon of the chopped bacon in the food processor and pulse a few times to combine.  Add the bacon grease and the butter pieces.  Pulse several times until the mixture looks like sand, with a few larger lumps throughout.  Turn on the food processor and drizzle in the ice cold water until the dough starts to come together.  Check the dough by pinching a bit between your fingers.  If it sticks together, you’re done.  You may use slightly less water, but you may need a touch more.  Add another tablespoon of chopped bacon bits and pulse a few times to mix through the dough. You may not use all the bacon.

Lightly flour a work surface.  Divide the cracker dough in half and place one half on the work surface.  Knead a little to bring the dough together and pat it into a nice square.  Using a floured rolling pin, roll the dough until it is as thin as a dime, trying your best to keep it in an even rectangle.  Trim off the rough edges and set aside*.  Cut the dough into crackers, about 1 inch by 1 inch.  I find a pizza wheel a very handy tool for this. You can cut them into smaller crackers if you prefer, but you’ll adjust the cooking time.  Carefully transfer the crackers to the prepared baking sheets. The crackers puff up rather than out, so you can place them close together.  Prick the top of the crackers with a fork, then very lightly brush the tops with melted butter and lightly sprinkle with salt. Repeat with the second half of the dough.  Bake the crackers, one sheet at a time, in the middle of the oven for 12 – 15 minutes until lightly puffed, golden brown and firm. Cool on the baking sheets.

The crackers will keep in a completely airtight container for several days.  I find a flat, sturdy container works best as a zippered bag doesn’t protect the crackers from breakage very well.

* I like to gather all the scraps and knead them together, then roll them out as sort of a third batch.  They may be not as pretty as the rest, but taste just as good.

Makes about 3 dozen

Pimento Cheese is often called the paté of the South.  Country classic and city chic. We serve it out of a tub on saltines, or incorporated into elegant hors d’ouevres.   Meat-and-threes and mom-and-pops sell it between slices of white bread, and upmarket restaurants serve it on platters with house made charcuterie.  It is ubiquitous, and useful.  It’s good to have around when guests are visiting, and an excellent dish to take to a new mother or the recently bereaved.  It is immutable (cheese, pimentos, mayonnaise) and yet somehow permutable.  Add spicier peppers, a variety of cheeses, onions or garlic.  Every lover of pimento cheese has their favorite and very particular opinions on what does and does not constitute “real” pimento cheese – spicy, too spicy, not creamy enough, too much mayonnaise, too smooth, too chunky.  I, of course, make the best pimento cheese in the world ever, period.  And for me, the addition of chipotle peppers may be a lovely idea, but it simply is not “real” pimento cheese.

At the heart of this is the fact that the flavor combination of basic pimento cheese is a good one. Tangy sharp cheese, peppers with bite but not heat and creamy mayonnaise just work together.  Wonderfully.  So taking the flavor combination and applying it to other dishes just seems natural. It works in macaroni and cheese, on a burger, in a grilled cheese sandwich.  I treat myself often to some Pimento Cheese Biscuits with Creamy Tomato Soup, or mix it up and make the soup with the flavors of pimento cheese.

Pimento Cheese Soup with Tangy Toast

2 Tablespoons olive oil

1 carrot, finely diced

1 stalk celery, finely diced

1 medium yellow onion, finely diced

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 (4-ounce) jar diced pimentos

1 teaspoon sweet paprika

¼ cup all-purpose flour

4 cups chicken broth

3 cups milk

1 pound extra sharp cheddar cheese, grated

1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Hot sauce (optional)

In a 5 quart Dutch oven, heat the olive oil over medium heat then add the diced carrot, celery and onion. Sauté until the onion is translucent and the vegetables are soft, stirring frequently.  Try to prevent browning the vegetables.  When the vegetables are soft, add 1 Tablespoon from the jar of pimentos and stir.  Add the garlic and stir, cooking for one more minute.  Sprinkle over the paprika and cook, stirring, until it is nice and fragrant, about a minute.  Add the flour and stir to coat the vegetables, until there is no flour visible.  Pour in the chicken broth and stir well.  Raise the heat and bring the soup to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium, partially cover the pot and simmer for 15 minutes.

Using an immersion blender, or very carefully in a blender in batches, puree the soup until smooth.  If you prefer a chunkier soup, you can blend it just a bit to break down the largest chunks.  Add the milk and stir well.  Raise the heat to medium high and when the soup is just steaming, add the grated cheese in handfuls, stirring after each addition, until the cheese is melted and the soup is smooth. Do not let the soup boil.  Stir in the remaining pimentos and Worcestershire sauce and season well with salt and a few grinds of black pepper.  If you like, add a dash or two of hot sauce.

Serve immediately, or leave to cool, refrigerate for up to one day, and reheat slowly over medium heat.  Do not let the soup boil.

Serves 6

Tangy Toasts

Use one or two pieces of firm white sandwich bread for each bowl of soup.  Trim the crusts from the bread, then spread an even layer of mayonnaise on each slice.  You’ll want more than a barely visible skim of mayonnaise, but not a thick pile either.  Sprinkle with paprika and a little salt.  Toast the bread slices in the oven on a rack set over a baking sheet, or in a toaster oven, until crispy and browned.  Cut the slices into neat triangles, or into small crouton cubes.

It has already snowed here in Memphis twice this year, but too early and too inconvenient.  I am hoping for a few more snow days, when I have no need to leave the house and am prepared with a good book, with enough warning for a trip to the grocery.  It doesn’t get cold enough, often enough here to invest in big, heavy wool turtleneck sweaters and thick mittens, but I like to imagine myself in one of those photo spreads, wrapped in a pretty scarf and a sweater, logs burning in the background, laughing over a steaming bowl of warming soup.  This would be the soup in that picture.

Bracing is how I would describe this soup. Perfect after a chilly day outdoors or a warm night by the fire.  Underrated  parsnips have a unique bite and lovely fragrance, the fennel is bright and the leeks add a rich undertone.  The pureed soup is silky and rich. I love the creamy color of this soup, that’s why I gave it a slightly silly name.  It is great on its own, sipped from mugs, but is also a great bowl soup for toppings.  I like some lightly toasted, but not browned, croutons.  Thinly slice some peeled parsnips and fry them until crispy to make chips to float on the top.  Crumbled, crispy smoky bacon is a wonderful addition, and a drizzle of fruity olive oil can add a touch of luxury.  A little shower of chopped fennel fronds add freshness and a spot of green.

Snow White Soup (Parsnip, Fennel and Leek Soup)

Use a light colored chicken broth, one that is too dark will give the soup a muddy color.

1 ¼ pounds parsnips (about 4 medium)

1 pound fennel (about 2 medium bulbs, to yield 12 ounces trimmed)

3 medium leeks

6 cups light-colored chicken broth

1 cup milk

Salt

Preheat the oven to 250°.

Peel the parsnips and trim off the stem end.  Cut into evenly sized chunks.  You should have 1 pound trimmed parsnips. Remove the stalks from the fennel bulbs, quarter them and cut out the tough core.  Rinse the bulbs under cold water, making sure there is no dirt between the layers. Cut into chunks roughly equivalent the parsnips.  Trim the leeks, discarding all but the white and palest green parts.  Slice each leek in half and run under cold water, fanning out the layers to remove any dirt.  Cut into chunks the size of the other vegetables.

Place all the vegetables in a 5-quart oven-safe Dutch oven.  Add the chicken broth and bring to a boil over medium high heat.  Cover the pot and move it to the oven.  Leave the soup in the oven for 3 hours until the vegetables are completely soft.

Remove the pot from the oven, uncover and leave to cool slightly.  Using an immersion blender, or very carefully on batches in a blender, blend the soup until smooth.  Add the milk and blend until completely smooth. Taste and add salt if needed.  Reheat the soup, but do not boil, and serve.

The soup can be made ahead and gently reheated.  Add a bit more milk to thin it out if needed.

Makes 4 bowls

I am not an overly suspicious person.  Sure, I have my little quirks, but I don’t worry about black cats, walking under ladders, throwing spilled salt over my left shoulder.   But there are a few traditions that I adhere to because, well, it can’t hurt.  Particularly if that tradition involves delicious food.  So on New Year’s Day, I always eat black-eyed peas and greens. For luck and prosperity.  Sometimes I eat them separately, but this gumbo includes all the ingredients for a good year.  The traditional ingredients of good-luck hoppin’ john (rice and black-eyed peas), which is another New Year tradition in the South, plus greens for prosperity.  Here’s a little more information on Southern luck traditions.

This gumbo can be made the day before and reheated, which is a boon if you have been out all night celebrating. Just reheat, cook some rice and add the collards. I highly recommend using smoked ham hock stock.  It really gives the gumbo a smoky, earthy, rich flavor. Making it in the slow cooker is a breeze, and you can do it ahead of time.  If you can’t manage, look for ham stock at some grocery stores, or use the combo of chicken and beef.

Good Luck Gumbo

1 pound smoked sausage, such as kielbasa

2 Tablespoon olive or vegetable oil

1 onion

1 green pepper

4 stalks celery

1 Tablespoon flour

1 teaspoon creole seasoning (I use Tony Chachere’s)

6 cups ham hock stock*, or 4 cups chicken stock and 2 cups beef stock

1 (14.5 ounce) can diced tomatoes

1 pound black-eyed peas, fresh or frozen and thawed

1 ½ cups long grain white rice

3 ½ cups water

Collard leaves

Cut the smoked sausage into bite-size cubes.  Heat the oil in a 5 quart Dutch oven, add the sausage and cook over medium high heat until the sausage begins to brown. Finely chop the onion, seeded bell pepper and celery.  I do this in a small food processor, one vegetable at a time, pulsing to chop the vegetable finely.  Add the “trinity” vegetables to the pot and stir.  Cover the pot and cook for five minutes to soften the vegetables, then remove the cover, stir well and cook until everything is nice and soft and any liquid has evaporated.   Stir in the flour and cook a further minute, then stir in the creole seasoning.  Pour in the stock and the canned tomatoes with their juice.  Bring to a boil and cook for 10 minutes uncovered, reduce to a simmer and cook for 15 minutes. Add the black-eyed peas and continue cooking for another half an hour.  The gumbo should reduce and thicken slightly.  The gumbo can be made up to this point, cooled and refrigerated, covered, overnight.

When ready to serve, cook the rice. Stir the rice into the water in a large saucepan with a tight-fitting lid. Bring to a boil and boil until almost all the water is absorbed and little air bubbles form in the rice, about 10 – 12 minutes, stirring a few times to prevent sticking. Remove from the heat and tightly cover the pan.

Cut the collard leaves in half and cut out the stems.  Stack the leaf halves, three at a time, on top of each other and roll up like a cigar.  Cut the leaves into thin ribbons.  You can further chop the collard ribbons if you’d like.

Heat the gumbo to a low boil over medium high heat.  It will thicken as it sits, but loosen up when heated.  But add a little water if you need to get things moving.  Add the collards, stir, and cover the pot.  Cook until the collards are tender and wilted, about 5 minutes.  Serve over cooked rice.  If you have saved some ham hock meat from making the stock, dice that and stir it into the gumbo as well.  And if you’d like, sprinkle some hot sauce over the gumbo.

*Smoked Ham Hock Stock

Hock Stock is an amazing cooking medium for field peas, beans and greens, as well as a great base for soup or gumbo.  I always look for a naturally smoked hock (not one that has no artificial smoke flavoring added).  I get these from farmers market vendors when I can, and make a batch of stock to freeze.  I can then have to the long, slow cooked taste in quick versions of my favorite southern dishes.

1 large smoked ham hock, cut into three pieces

1 onion

2 carrots

2 celery stalks

1 Tablespoon black pepper corns

3 bay leaves

Place all the ingredients in the crock of a large slow cooker.  Add 10 – 12 cups of water to fill the crock.  Cook on the low setting for 10 – 12 hours.  Strain the solids from the stock and refrigerate for several hours.  When the stock is cold, skim any solidified fat from the top and discard.  Strain the stock through cheesecloth to remove any last bits of debris.

If you’d like, pull the meat from the ham hock pieces and dice. It is a great addition to any soup or beans you are cooking with the stock.

The stock will keep in an airtight container in the fridge for up to a week or can be frozen for up to a year.  The same goes for the hock meat, in a separate container from the stock.

Makes 6 – 8 cups

I love a good pumpkin dish for Halloween, and this one hits all the right notes.  It’s easy to make, reheats well after a busy night trick-or-treating and is packed full of flavor.  It is also a Halloween appropriate blend of orange and black!  And chili is always a crowd pleaser, and extra fun for a gathering if you provide fun toppings to customize each bowl like sour cream, lime, diced avocado, or tortilla chips.  If you are industrious, save the seeds from the pumpkin and toast them with a little salt for a crunchy topper.  You could even serve this chili over rice.  And of course, a wedge of Pumpkin Cornbread would be the perfect accompainment.

Look for small “pie” pumpkins, sometimes labeled sugar pumpkins.  Sorry, but the flesh from your jack-o-lantern won’t work.  Those pumpkins are decorative and have tough flesh with little flavor.  If your market sells pre-cut pumpkin, feel free to use it, and yes, you could substitute pre-cut butternut squash, though that takes out some of the Halloween authenticity. The cinnamon in this chili adds real depth and brings out the flavor of the pumpkin.  It does not make it sweet or taste like cookies, I promise.

A word about chorizo.  For this dish you’ll use the more common Mexican chorizo, which is a soft uncooked sausage, not hard salami-like Spanish chorizo.  I have found that the flavors of readily available chorizo vary enormously.  I recommend a brand made in Mexico, which I find easily at my regular grocery store, or if you can, a freshly made variet from a Hispanic grocer.  Choose mild over spicy if there is an option – you can always add spice, but you can’t take it away. The brand I commonly find is packed with flavor and very spicy, so it requires little else to make this chili pack a punch.  That is why I recommend cooking small bit of the chorizo first and tasting it.  If you find it bland, add chili powder to taste, and even a little hot sauce if you feel the need.

Spicy Chorizo, Pumpkin and Black Bean Chili

2 pounds Mexican chorizo (please read above)

1 yellow onion, finely chopped

4 cups (32-ounce box) chicken broth

1 Tablespoon cinnamon

Chili powder (optional)

3 – 4 pound pie pumpkin

2 (14-ounce) cans black beans, rinsed and drained

Salt and pepper to taste

Topping Ideas:

Sour cream

Lime wedges

Diced avocado

Chopped cilantro

Crumbled cotija or queso fresco cheese

Tortilla chips

Oyster crackers

Toasted pumpkin seeds (pepitas)

Pinch off a small piece of the chorizo and sauté it in a small skillet until cooked through.  Taste the chorizo to determine its flavor and spice level.

Break the chorizo up into a 5-quart Dutch oven and sauté over medium heat, breaking up the meat into small pieces until the bright orange juices are running.  Add the chopped onion and continue cooking, stirring and scraping the bottom of the pan until the onions are soft. Pour in the chicken broth, bring to a boil and reduce the heat to medium-low.  Stir in the cinnamon.  Add chili powder to taste if you feel the chorizo doesn’t have enough flavor and spice.

While the chorizo is simmering, prepare the pumpkin.  Cut the pumpkin in half and scoop out the seeds and fibrous innards.  Cut the halves into quarters and cut away the orange rind and any green-tinged flesh.  Use a very sturdy and sharp knife and go slowly and carefully.  Cut the pumpkin flesh into bite size chunks.  Remember you’ll be eating this with a spoon, so size the pieces accordingly.  Add the pumpkin to the simmering chorizo. Cook for about 10 minutes, then add the drained black beans.  Continue to simmer the chili until the pumpkin is tender and the chili has thickened. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve warm with sour cream and fresh limes to squeeze over the chili, and a selection of toppings.  The chili can be made up to 24 hours ahead and gently reheated.

Serves 6 – 8

Vichysquash, or Squashyssoise? Yep, this all started because of the name.  I saw a recipe for Vichysquash years ago, and loved the silly name, but it called for canned creamed soup, which has never appealed to me.  The idea stuck though, and when I see the glut of yellow crookneck squash piling up at the farmers market, I always think of this soup. I’ve tinkered around with an old recipe, and finally settled on refreshing dill and a hint of tangy buttermilk, which adds such cool creaminess and a hint of Southern charm.  When I planned to share this recipe, I suddenly had the brain wave of Squashysoisse as a name.  I’ve done and informal poll, but no one can settle on which they like best.  Squashysoisse is just so fun to say.

I love soup of all kinds, but have a real fondness for cold soups.  Maybe it is my hot climate upbringing.  They are so refreshing and satisfying, cool and creamy and smooth.  I am always surprised that in the 100-degree plus summers here, more restaurants and markets don’t offer cold soups. Classic Vichyssoise is one of my very favorites, and I am also a fan of creamy Spanish white gazpacho.   There may be a little standing over a hot stove involved in this recipe (a very little), but once that’s over with, there is a lovely bowl of soup chilling in the fridge.  Serve little cups of this as an elegant starter or luncheon dish, or ladle out big bowls with a nice fresh tomato salad for a garden dinner.

So you tell me- Vichysquash or Squashyssoise?

Vichysquash

Cold Crookneck and Buttermilk Soup

6 yellow crookneck squash (about 2 ½ cups)

3 Tablespoons butter

1 small white onion, diced

1 bunch of dill, to yield 4 Tablespoons chopped

4 cups chicken or vegetable broth

1 cup well-shaken buttermilk

salt

Wash the squash and slice into discs about ½ inch thick.

In a Dutch oven, melt the butter over medium-high heat.  Drop in the diced onion and sauté until soft and translucent. Stir in half of the chopped dill (about two Tablespoons) and cook for a further minute. Season with salt. Add the sliced squash to the pot and gently stir to coat with butter, onions and dill.  Cover the pot and leave the squash to stem for a few minutes.  Pour in the broth, stir well and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low, cover the pot and simmer for 30 minutes, stirring a few times, until the squash is completely soft.  Remove from the heat and leave to cool.

When the squash is cool, transfer the squash and broth to a blender, in batches, and puree each batch until smooth.  Pour through a strainer into a large bowl  When all the soup is strained, chill in the fridge until nice and cold.  Whisk the buttermilk and the remaining dill into the soup and season with salt to taste, then return to the fridge until thoroughly chilled.  Serve cold.

Serves 6 large bowls, 8 small

I was a latecomer to the joy of peas.  And I think that may be because, like many people, my first introduction to peas was the canned variety.  Mushy, salty, gray-green and generally unappetizing.  And so time consuming to pick out of a casserole or pot pie, segregating them on one side of the plate, trying to keep them from rolling back into the good stuff.  Frozen peas came later, but it took me awhile to get over the earlier canned pea trauma and give them a try. They were an improvement, but remember when frozen peas came in a box that you unwrapped to reveal a giant pea-studded ice cube?  And I know people who will only eat peas that come from a certain silver can, and I have a relative who is pathologically afraid of peas, so my start with peas was a bumpy one.

But once I discovered the taste of a crisp pea though, I was hooked.  And it was in England that I discovered the greatest joy of all, fresh from the pod peas.  I first had them a restaurant, simply braised in butter and I assumed it must be some fancy variety we didn’t have in the States.  Then I saw them on sale at a street market and stopped to gaze upon them.  The vendor popped open a pod and gave me the peas to taste right there.  An absolute revelation, as far from canned peas as Memphis to Mongolia.  I bought a huge batch, and more the next day, and the next week. 

At home, I discovered that frozen peas are now a darn good substitute and perhaps the most versatile food to have on hand.  A handful of good frozen peas tossed into a risotto, soup, pasta, casserole – whatever – adds color and crunch and flavor instantly.  I now occasionally find peas pods at the market, but peas begin to turn to starch very quickly after being picked, so they suffer from sitting on shelves.  That is one reason frozen peas, now generally flash frozen quickly after they are harvested, are a good choice. 

For the past two springs, I have grown my own vines of English garden peas.  I have yet to master the art, but I’m getting thee.  I haven’t grown a vine that produced a big enough haul to make a whole batch of soup, or to proudly serve a big bowl of buttered, steamed peas to my family and friends, but I eat some raw and some quickly cooked all for me, which is a pretty good thing.

On a trip to Portugal, my friends and I celebrated or last night at a very swanky restaurant.  I ordered the cold pea soup and it was absolutely brilliant. The best part of the meal, actually.  It had such an intense flavor, like biting into a fresh pea, I just knew that every part of the pea was used to create that depth.  So with pea season upon us, I have worked hard to recreate that soup.  I use the pods and some tendrils from my own peas, but have supplemented with tendrils from the farmers market and good frozen peas. I lightly steam or blanch the peas from my pods and use them to garnish the soup.  At that restaurant, a soup dish with a dollop of crème fraiche and a tangle of pea tendrils was presented at the table, then the waiter poured the chilled soup around the garnish.  Feel free to use that flourish.

Chilled Pea Soup with Tendrils and Pods

If you don’t have your own pea plant, many farmers market vendors sell the pea tendrils, which are also good sautéed with a little olive oil and garlic.  Ask the farmers for pea pods as well.

For the stock:

2 ounces pea pods

2 ounces pea tendrils (more if you have them)

8 cups water

For the soup:

1 Tablespoon olive oil

1 large shallot

12 ounces fresh shelled English peas (or thawed frozen)

½ cup heavy cream

Salt to taste

Crème fraiche to garnish

Pea tendrils to garnish

For the stock:

Wash the pea pods and the pea tendrils and shake to dry.  Place them in a large saucepan and cover with the water.  Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally.  Reduce the heat to low, cover the pot and leave the stock to simmer for 1 hour.  Strain out the pea pods and tendrils and leave the stock to cool.  You can make the stock one day ahead if you are using frozen peas.  If you are using freshly podded peas, finish the soup on the same day.  You should have about 5 cups of stock.

For the soup:

Pour the olive oil into a large saucepan.  Finely chop the shallot and add it to the pan.  Sauté the shallots over medium heat until they are soft and translucent.  Do not let them brown.  Add the peas and stir quickly, then pour over 5 cups of pea stock. If you have another handful of pea tendrils, add them as well. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat and cover the pot.  Simmer the soup for 20 minutes, or until the peas are completely tender.  If you have added pea tendrils, fish them out now.  A few stray leaves left in the pot are fine.

Puree the soup using a hand blender, or very carefully in batches in the blender.  For a velvety and refined soup, pass the soup through a sieve, scraping and pushing to extract as much liquid as possible, leaving behind the forlorn pea skins. Leave the soup to cool, then refrigerate until chilled.  When ready to served, whisk in the heavy cream and salt to taste. Return to the fridge to chill if needed.

Whisk the soup well, and serve with a dollop of crème fraiche, garnished with a lovely curling pea tendril.

Serves 6 small bowls, 4 larger ones

Peas from my own vine

There is magic in soup.  A beautiful kitchen alchemy in which a few simple ingredients are magically transformed into culinary precious treasure.  There is nothing to me more satisfying than hefting the weight of my good enameled cast-iron Dutch oven from its special nook and placing it on the burner, ready to start my experiments, ready to create.

Soup runs from the sublime to the simple, elegant to hearty, haute to homey.  I’ve been transported by a soup in Lisbon that tasted more of peas than a fresh pea picked from the vine in my garden, served with great pomp, the broth poured by a jacketed waiter to perfectly surround the tangle of pea shoots and a crème fraiche quenelle.  I have savored a broth so complex and rich, swimming with hand-pulled noodles and puddled with grease on the side of the road in Cambodia.  I have taken lessons in making traditional Moroccan harira from a cook in Marrakesch.  I have burned my mouth and singed my tongue on fiery rasam in Kerala.  I have perfected my own version of chicken noodle soup, packed with health-giving benefits.  And been more than comforted by a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich prepared for me by my mother on the downest of days.

But this is perhaps my truest expression of soup love, because it is only partly mine.  With very little guidance, my nieces created this soup with me in my kitchen.  They decided what ingredients were necessary, chopped and sautéed, grated and stirred, tasted and perfected.  It is everything they wanted in a soup – favorite tastes combined to create a tasty bowl of happy.  It isn’t fancy or pretty – but why should it be? It’s good, it’s us, it’s our special aunt and nieces creation. I transcribe it here from my niece’s notes – “stuff to put in” followed by “do this” and ending with “Now you have cheeseburger soup!”  A better recipe was never written.

Bacon Cheeseburger Soup

4 strips of bacon

1 pound ground beef

1 cup finely chopped onion (about 1 medium onion)

3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

2 Tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

4 cups chicken broth

¼ cup all-purpose flour

1 ½ cup milk

2 cups grated cheddar cheese

2 Tablespoons yellow mustard

3 Tablespoons ketchup

Salt and pepper to taste

2 hamburger buns

Butter for the buns

Cook the bacon in a 5-quart Dutch oven until crispy, remove to paper towels to drain.  Add the ground beef to the pot with the bacon grease and cook until beginning to brown, breaking the meat into small pieces.  Add the chopped onion and garlic and cook until the onions are soft and the meat is cooked through.  Drain the fat from the pot, then return it to the heat. Stir in the Worcestershire sauce, then add the chicken broth and bring to the boil.  Reduce the heat to simmer.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl, whisk together the milk and the flour until smooth.   While the soup is simmering, stir in the flour and milk and stir and simmer until the soup is slightly thickened.  Add the grated cheese a handful at a time, stirring to melt after each addition.  When all the cheese is incorporated, stir in the mustard and the ketchup and add salt and pepper to taste. Crumble the cooked bacon and stir into the soup. Cover and simmer the soup for 10 minutes.

While the soup is simmering, spread each side of the hamburger buns with butter, cut into thin strips and toast in a toaster oven or under the broiler until lightly toasty.  Serve the soup immediately, accompanied by the bun croutons.  If you’d like, you could top with extra crumbled bacon, pickle relish, more grated cheese – anything you like on your cheeseburger!

Makes 4 big bowls

This may well be my favorite meal.  At least, it has all the components of a few of my favorite things.  A creamy, rich tomato soup and a biscuit, packed with the flavors of pimento cheese.  A match made in heaven, a pairing perfect for the gloomy cold of January.

First off, the combination of two Southern favorites – the buttermilk biscuit and pimento cheese – is ingenious.  It truly came to me in the most obvious of ways, like those old peanut butter cup commercials.  Standing in front of the open fridge door the night of a holiday brunch party years ago, I spread some pimento cheese on a leftover biscuit, and it hit me that I could save that pesky spreading step and create a one-bite wonder.  So I went to work. I doubt I was the first person to think of this, but that’s how I got here.  These gems are the perfect pairing for a bowl of soup, but it doesn’t end there.  A dab of butter and a little country ham.  A dab of butter and some crispy bacon.  Make that candied bacon and you are on your way to heaven.  I sometimes make these in little cocktail size bites and serve them at parties, either with butter alone, or something yummy tucked inside.  I am sure you will find all sorts of ways to enjoy these.

And tomato soup is perhaps the world’s most perfect food.  All at once a source of memory and comfort yet infinitely malleable and always new.  A good, simple tomato soup recipe is a cornerstone of the kitchen, and this version fits that bill.  It is a cinch to whip up but full of flavor.  The best thing about a recipe like this, about making your own tomato soup, is that you know exactly what’s in it. No extra sodium, no MSG, no unpronounceable preservatives, just good, honest food. Use quality canned tomatoes, preserved at their peak of freshness, with no added salt or unnecessaries, and you can have this soup anytime. I wouldn’t frown on using frozen diced onions to shorten the prep time.  And of course, this is simply seasoned with basil and garlic, but let your mind run wild – any herbs or seasonings that take your fancy.  I personally like a smooth soup, so I use the immersion blender, but if chunky is your thing, go for it.

Pimento Cheese Biscuits

I generally cut these into squares to avoid wasting or re-rolling dough, but if you prefer, you can cut them into rounds as you would a regular biscuit.  Grate the cheese fresh – pre-grated uses an anti-caking agent.

2 cups all-purpose flour, plus a bit for sprinkling

1 Tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon sweet paprika

½ teaspoon garlic powder

¾ cup (1 ½ sticks) butter, cold

½ cup buttermilk, well-shaken and cold, plus a little for brushing

1 egg

1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce

1 (4-ounce) jar diced pimentos, drained and patted dry

1 cup grated extra sharp cheddar cheese

Sea salt for sprinkling, I prefer Maldon

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.  Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Put the flour, baking powder, salt, paprika and garlic powder in the bowl of a stand mixer and stir together with a fork.  Cut the butter into small cubes and drop them in the flour. Using the paddle attachment, blend the butter and flour on low speed until the butter is the size of small BBs.  You want some butter blended in, but the visible small pieces of butter help make the biscuits fluffy.

Measure the buttermilk in a measuring jug, crack in the egg, add the Worcestershire sauce, and beat it with a fork until the egg is well blended.  Keep the mixer on low, dump in the buttermilk and blend just until everything is moist.  Toss the cheese with a little flour, and do the same to the pimentos. This step keeps the cheese and pimentos from clumping together so they blend throughout the dough.  Drop them both in the mixer and, still on low, beat until everything just starts to come together.

Dump the dough onto a well-floured surface and gently bring it all together, kneading just a few times.  Handle with care and don’t overwork the dough, or the biscuits will get tough.  A few pimentos may stick to the board or fall out, just stick ‘em back in.  Pat the dough into a rectangle about 6 by 10 inches, using the back of a large knife or bench scraper to square off the ends.  Flour the knife or scraper and cut the dough into eight squares.  Place the biscuits on the prepared baking sheet, lightly brush the tops with a little buttermilk and sprinkle with sea salt.

Bake the biscuits for 15 – 20 minutes, until lightly browned and cooked through. Serve warm, or wrap tightly and store in an airtight container, gently reheat before serving.

Makes 8 biscuits

Creamy Tomato Soup

The addition of baking soda prevents the soup from curdling.  I prefer good Italian canned San Marzano tomatoes, with no salt or additives.

2 Tablespoons olive oil

1 small onion, or 3 shallots, diced

3 cloves garlic, chopped

1 Tablespoon tomato paste

28-ounce can diced tomatoes

1 bunch fresh basil, finely chopped

¼ teaspoon baking soda

3 ½ cups whole milk

Salt and pepper to taste

Heat the olive oil in a large Dutch oven over medium heat, then add the onions and sauté until soft and translucent, but not browning.  Drop in the garlic and sauté for a few minutes more.  Stir in the tomato paste and diced tomatoes and stir.  Add the basil. Stir well, bring to a boil, then lower the heat to a steady simmer.  If you prefer a smooth soup, with an immersion blender, or very carefully in a blender in batches, puree the soup base until smooth.

Mix the baking soda with a splash of milk in a small bowl to form a paste.  Scrape the paste into the soup, then quickly pour in the milk and stir.  The soup will foam up, and that’s fine, it will subside.  Heat the soup to until warm throughout, but do not let it boil.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.

The soup will keep covered in the fridge for up to two days, but will not freeze.  Reheat gently but do not boil.

Serves 6 in small bowls, four in big ones