Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Welcome Back, Blogger. ;)

Check.


Check.

......Is this thing on?

Hello, Orange & Salt readers! I've missed you. Where have I been? Well, you can choose from a long, long list of excuses, including but not limited to: working at my job, working in the studio, enjoying the beautiful winter weather, hiking, biking, participating in an art show, knitting, walking my dog, frantically filling Christmas Etsy orders, blogging for my job, decorating my house for Christmas, and also somewhat frantically preparing for a cross-town move immediately post-Christmas. Whew. But they're all excuses, dear readers, what can I say? Eventually, I knew I'd have to return to the blog. I missed you all too much. :)

So here it is, in photos, a brief history of the last few weeks to get us up to speed:


There was ravioli, made with fresh, handmade pasta and a sausage filling with cheese and arugula. Served tossed lightly in brown butter and sprinkled with pecans. The recipe for this is, I assure you, coming soon.


There was fancy dinner at my parents' house, during which all manner of bizarre cooking and feeding rituals took place.


At fancy dinner, we fancily dined upon crispy paprika chickpeas, golden rolled spinach & feta phyllo cigars, pan-sauteed ribeyes with pommes dauphinois (a la Dad), and an amazing dark chocolate hazelnut tart. Because this family is fancy indeed.


Then, at some point, there was my first taste of gizzards. Gizzards: a true revelation......and almost as much fun to say as they are to eat! Try it: 'Honey, what's for dinner?' 'GIZZARDS. Gizzards are for dinner.' 'Gizzards??' 'GIZZARDS.' It's hours of fun, especially when you add funny accents.

Chewy, with strangely dark & hidden depths, gizzards are full of fatty flavor (especially when dredged in flour and fried until golden and crispy) and a faintly organlike whiff about them. I can't explain it, but they're truly addictive. Kind of like evil McNuggets. We took them to a friend's tapas party and ate them dipped in ketchup and sriracha sauce, a mixture I cannot recommend highly enough.


In November, Mike and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary (aawwwwwww!!) with an amazing dinner at The Mission in Scottsdale, a 'modern Latin' restaurant. Something else I can't recommend highly enough: dinner at The Mission. Seriously. I've been scheming excuses to go back ever since we left, it's that wonderful. Pictured above: my appetizer, roast corn gorditas loaded with squash, zucchini, corn, crema, and huitlacoche.........YES, you read that right, blackened corn fungus. Infected corn! It's not often that this pops up on menus, but I've always yearned to try it, and it didn't disappoint. It's earthy, as you'd expect, with a trufflelike identity. Those of us who love the fungus family (I'm definitely among that number) will adore this one.

Not pictured: Mike's appetizer, the succulent (yes, so succulent that I am actually forced to use that word to describe these) duck carnitas empanadas. I stole as much of this as he would allow before he began defending himself with his fork and steak knife. I tried. :)

Also shown above: my entree, the outrageously, plate-lickingly good (seriously, I'd had a fair amount of Argentinian red wine by this point, and may or may not have actually licked my plate when no one was looking, I'm not telling) chorizo porchetta with rosemary, served with white bean puree and sweet garlic crema. I howled with despair when the side order of puree and crema disappeared, it was that amazing. And Mike's entree of braised short ribs with chorizo, black beans and pureed plantain and sweet potato, plus the dessert of crispy chocolate and cinnamon churros, dipped in an espresso milkshake.........ohhhh. Well, I can't wait to go back. I just can't wait. Anyone up for dinner? Call me.


For Thanksgiving, there was pie. Sweet, caramel apple pie in homemade pastry, with festive autumn leaf designs. For that extra Martha touch.


And finally, more often than not, there was just simple food shared at a warm and loving table. Like soup, humble tomato soup with a touch of cream and a lively sprinkling of fresh basil. Although I admittedly love the big, fancy blowout 'event' dinners we've made and participated in along the way, this is ultimately my favorite kind of meal to share. A simple bowl of warm tomato soup.

It tastes like love. :)

Simple Tomato Soup

(serves 4-6 portions....add crusty bread for dipping and it's a full, hearty meal)

2 28 oz. cans of diced tomatoes in tomato juice (since it's winter. However, if tomatoes are in season, feel free to use fresh)
1 32 oz. box of chicken stock
extra virgin olive oil
1 cup diced yellow onion
1/2 tablespoon crushed garlic
1 tsp. dried oregano
splash of Worcestershire or soy sauce
half pint of heavy cream
pinch of sugar
salt & pepper
fresh basil

Heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in large skillet over medium heat, add onion and saute until soft and beginning to brown. Add half the garlic and saute quickly for 30 seconds. Add one can of tomatoes, including juice, increase heat to high and bring mixture to a boil while stirring constantly. Add oregano and a splash of either Worcestershire or soy sauce (sounds crazy, but it adds a hidden, deep dark note of savory umami that will be noticeable--though subtle--all the way through), reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally to make sure nothing is sticking to the pan. The mixture should be visibly darker and reduced at this point.

Add mixture to large stockpot with chicken stock and remaining can of tomatoes. Puree with immersion blender (or process in batches in a standard blender; because you have cooled the mixture by adding the room temperature ingredients, this should be fairly easy at this point). Add the remaining garlic, bring back to a boil in stockpot, then reduce heat to low and simmer, uncovered, for 30 more minutes.

Remove from heat and add sugar (to balance the acidity of the tomatoes), salt and pepper to taste. Add cream to taste (this soup is wonderful in different ways both with cream and without; how much you add, anywhere from a tablespoon to the full half pint, is up to you. We won't tell if you add all the cream, though.).

Serve immediately, topped with fresh chopped basil. Spoon up the love!

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Vietnamese Duck Noodle Soup, from Bon Appétit magazine, May 2010



'It's so pretty, Napa cabbage. So ruffly and drapey.'

I held a few of the loose, ruffled leaves against the leg of my jeans and sighed, considering them.

'....I think if I was going to make a dress out of any vegetable at all, it would be Napa cabbage.'

My husband, who knows me well enough by now to know that this isn't even remotely crazy talk coming from me, wisely held his tongue and kept slicing shallots and chopping mint. He's a smart man. It is very pretty though, Napa cabbage, although when it comes to uses I recommend eating over eveningwear. And what better way could there be to eat it than sliced into delicate ribbons and swimming in spicy broth and tender noodles, a few golden shreds of duck meat, diced tomatoes, and a sprinkling of fresh herbs decorating the surface?



This recipe for Vietnamese duck noodle soup (also known as bun vit mang), from the May issue of Bon Appétit magazine, is built on a solid foundation of flavors: first of all, duck. Yum. I think it's only fair to tell you that you might, in the absence of duck, be able to build a perfectly respectable soup on, say, chicken. But it's going to be missing that inherently wonderful, rich, ducky quality. Don't cheat yourself. It's a little difficult to find at our usual supermarkets (at least it is in our Phoenix suburb, your mileage may vary if you're in a more duck-loving corner of the world?), but we can always, always find duck legs at our local Asian specialty supermarket, so look around.


The second fundamental building block in this complex soup is a large quantity of good, fresh ginger. Ginger is one of those rare food items (really, it's a short list) that I always claimed not to like, having tasted funky, limp pinkish pickled ginger slices too many times at too many cheap sushi joints and declaring it to 'taste like window cleaner.' I don't remember when I changed my mind, but I do know that it was fresh ginger that cracked that particular prejudice wide open. Fresh ginger is a juicy, tongue-prickling wonder, a staple around the Orange & Salt kitchen whenever we're cooking anything remotely Asian in flavor. It's also basically a superfood that is reported to do just about everything from curing indigestion, nausea, and cold & flu symptoms to lowering levels of 'bad' cholesterol so eat your ginger--but stay away from the pickled, cheap-sushi-joint stuff! It really does taste like window cleaner.



Finally, I would say the balance of flavor in this wonderful soup is made up by all those fantastic garnishes, piled on in traditional Vietnamese mix-and-match style, to suit the individual taste. It's a lineup of the usual suspects of Southeast Asian cuisine: fish sauce, hot chilis, mint, cilantro, bright & zingy lime juice, etc, and all the tangy-hot-spicy-sweet helps to liven up the rich, fatty soup base incredibly.


I couldn't resist including this photo, since we tried a new brand of fish sauce this time around, and I think the smiling, lipstick-wearing, thumbs-up baby fish sauce spokesmodel is hilarious. 'Heeyyy, try my fish sauce!' :)



What you will start with: a full to the brim bowl of juicy, spicy, crunchy, ducky goodness............


........and what you will end with: a very clean bowl. A happy, warm belly. And an overpowering urge to make this soup again, in the very near future.

Vietnamese Duck Soup (from Bon Appétit, May 2010)

6 servings

Ingredients:

Soup

6 duck leg-thigh pieces
16 cups low-salt chicken broth
1 large onion, peeled, halved
6 tablespoons finely chopped peeled fresh ginger
2 tablespoons (or more) fish sauce (such as nam pla or nuoc nam)*
1 tablespoon sugar

Garnishes

1 6.75-ounce package rice vermicelli
3 cups sliced shallots (about 10 large)
2 1/4 pounds plum tomatoes, chopped
3 8-ounce cans sliced bamboo shoots, drained
6 cups thinly sliced Napa cabbage
1/3 cup chopped fresh mint
1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1/3 cup chopped fresh chives
Hot chili sauce (such as sriracha)
Lime wedges

Heat heavy large pot over high heat. Sprinkle duck with salt and pepper. Add to pot; sauté until deep brown, about 6 minutes per side. Add broth, onion, ginger, 2 tablespoons fish sauce, and sugar; bring to boil. Reduce heat; simmer uncovered until duck is very tender, adjusting heat to maintain simmer, 45 to 60 minutes.

Using tongs, transfer duck to rimmed baking sheet. Cool 30 minutes. Skin and bone duck. Coarsely shred duck meat. Strain broth into large bowl; discard solids. Spoon fat from top of broth into small bowl; reserve. Return broth and duck to same pot. Can be made 1 day ahead. Chill soup uncovered until cold, then cover and keep chilled. Cover and chill duck fat.

Cook rice vermicelli in large saucepan of boiling water until just tender, stirring occasionally, 3 to 5 minutes. Drain, rinse with cold water, and drain again. Cut noodles in half to shorten.
Melt 2 tablespoons reserved duck fat in same saucepan over medium-high heat. Add shallots; sauté 3 minutes. Add tomatoes and bamboo shoots. Cook until juices thicken, about 7 minutes longer. Add tomato mixture to soup. Simmer until flavors blend, 5 to 10 minutes. Season with salt, pepper, and more fish sauce if desired.

Divide noodles, cabbage, and herbs among 6 large bowls. Ladle in soup. Serve, passing hot sauce and lime wedges.