There are two kinds of people: those who are excited by soup and those who are not. I neatly fall into the first camp. To be fair, it’s easy to be excited by anything when your earliest memories came from a kitchen like my grandmother’s.
I remember beautiful and rustic potages, aromatic and creamy leek and potato, cold cucumber soup in the summer with a dollop of cream on top. I remember a bouillabaisse in the South of France when I was a little girl- I had a mussel I knew was bad, but I just threw the mussel to the side and kept eating because I’d never tasted a broth so good.
My father loved soup too, I remember the way he’d say “Passe le beurre, si vous plais” in his comically bad French accent. He’d joyously drop a pat of butter into his potage, swirling it around with the sour cream and fresh herbs. Soup wasn’t just a seasonal thing in our family. Vicchysoise and cucumber soup made appearances, but more common in the summer months was soup au pistou, and something that could almost be called a ratatouille soup (tojours sans aubergine!).
Though parts of my family lived just 45 minutes from the Spanish border, gazpacho never made an appearance on my childhood table. Here’s how my first encounter with gazpacho went down.
“What’s it called?” I asked. Skeptical of the uncooked tomatoes, and a name that sounded entirely made up. So skeptical, in fact, … get the recipe
It wouldn’t be exactly true to say that I woke up to rain. Still, a heavy blanket of fog swaddled our little yellow house on the hill, and the ground was wet enough that I can imagine it may have rained overnight.
Bundled up in my red winter coat, I leashed up the pooch and went for a long walk in McLaren Park. Despite what folks say, we do have seasons in California.
Sometimes, we live with evidence of all of them at once. Just today, as Ruby and I tromped through mud and autumnal fallen yellow leaves, I also bathed in the smell of winter’s piney conifers. These firs, lush yet strangely expectant, as if they’re just waiting to be strung with shiny glass balls.
Just a short way down the path, I was surprised to find evidence of the first blackberry blossoms, a reminder that summer will come and provide mounds of juicy berries- rife for the foraging.
I found pink cottage roses wet with dew, spiders spinning sparkly webs, dazzlingly-bright yellow flowers, shy mushrooms peeking from beneath blades of grass, and nasturtiums- from whom I stole a sip of spicy nectar. When I left the cover of the tress and came upon a grassy playground, robins sang while hunting for fat little worms.
You see all the seasons, right there before me.
As we neared the end of our walk, a few raindrops fell. Tucking my camera into my coat and quickening my pace, I looked forward … get the recipe
I’ve spent all but a few of my 38 years in the San Francisco Bay Area. I was born and raised here, and while I’ve left a couple of times, I’ve never tricked myself into thinking my leaving was permanent. Sure, I’ve thought about a simpler life, a porch swing, a big rambling yard. Sometimes the dreaming drifts to living in a “real city” or finally moving to Maui or The South of France, but when I truly connect with the place I live, I fall head-over-heels in love all over again.
This past Sunday, we woke up early and lazed around in bed. I had planned on making some apple tarts to bring on our day trip, but Joshua managed to talk me into extra snuggle time, and before I knew it, I was rushing to photograph Friday night’s pumpkin soup before we were heading out the door to Point Reyes- bellies full of the last of the pumpkin goodness.
It doesn’t matter how many times I cross the Golden Gate Bridge and pass through the Rainbow Tunnel into Marin County. Each time, the beauty, the happy memories, the readiness for adventure, the sense that something wonderful could happen at any moment, is always fresh. This time, it truly would be new; we were headed up to the birthday party of Joshua’s friend’s kid near Tomales Bay. Climbing the hill to the property, we were surrounded by redwoods. Wild strawberries lined the path, and a break in the trees … get the recipe
Last Saturday was fantastic. I mean really really great. I woke up, walked the dog, fussed around the kitchen a bit. Made some tart dough, got dressed in favorite summer dress and headed downtown to attend a cooking demo at Macy’s in union square.
I must admit this was my first time attending one of the culinary council’s demos (I’ll definitely go again). So, why now? Two words. Dominique Crenn. Chef Crenn is one of the hottest chefs in the country right now, and though I haven’t had the chance to dine at her extraordinary restaurant, Atelier Crenn, it has been at the top of my list since it opened earlier this year. I have it on excellent authority that we will be doing the 11 course tasting menu on my birthday!
I arrived early for the demo and had a chance to chat with Chef Crenn, a recent champ on Iron Chef (battle yogurt vs. Chef Symon). I dug her instantly and was thrilled to find that we share many of the same food philosophies. She spoke passionately of food as art, of soulful cooking, and of spending time eating and enjoying conversation and laughter with the people you love being an important part of an excellent meal. (see, I told you we shared a lot in our food Philosophy).
Helping with the demo/MCing the event was the utterly charming Liam Mayclem the host of Foodie Chap on KCBS. I also can’t say enough good … get the recipe
At last week’s market, I was found myself drawn to a ghostly, bluish, pod-shaped squash at Miramonte Farm’s stand. I lovingly shot photographs of it. I smiled as I admired it, and made sure that it was situated next to an orange and green acorn squash to accentuate it’s decidedly Victorian pallor as it patiently sat for photographs.
Upon my return home, I placed the pale, blue-tinged gourd upon my vintage French butcher’s table next to a golden-hued butternut squash. Having recently had a fantastic soup at Bar Jules with pumpkin, faro, and pancetta, I fancied a version of my own using my new blue squash, leeks, green garlic, and some of the Italiany bacony stuff.
In researching the blue “harbour” squash, the first thing I learned is that it is actually called a blue hubbard squash. Evidently, I’d misheard. I also re-learned that beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder. Everything I read, described this squash that I had been making eyes at, as beastly, ugly, warty (well that part was true), and altogether unattractive on the outside. People were much kinder when extolling the virtues of the tasty orange insides, and I knew the blue hubbard and I were just perfect for one another.
A side note, most people bake these and use them in heartier dishes. I rather liked the starchiness of this squash in a broth-based soup. You could substitute any winter squash here, butternut squash, pumpkin, or acorn squash soup are all fantastic! … get the recipe
I concocted this soup recipe to serve in pretty vintage punch glasses for my friends’ wedding. It provides a big mouthful of flavors- salty, sweet, spicy, and herbaceous, so it works well as an amuse bouche or an appetizer when served this way or even in tiny shot glasses. It is also a perfect hearty (yet still) vegan soup if you’re feeling like a big bowl of warming spices and pure deliciousness on a cold an rainy day.
- INGREDIENTS FOR THE SOUP
- 1 medium butternut squash about 2 lbs(peeled and cubed)
- 1 yellow onion
- 1 tbsp virgin coconut oil
- 1 can of coconut milk
- 1 pinch of black mustard seeds
- 5 cups of water or veggie broth
- 2 green cardamom pods
- 1 pinch of tumeric
- ½ teaspoon powdered ginger
- 1 heavy pinch of salt
- 1 inch knob of ginger peeled and cut into coins
- INGREDIENTS FOR THE CROUTONS
- ½ loaf of day old baguette cut into tiny cubes
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 tablespoon tandoori spice (or hot madras curry powder)
- INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE SOUP
- Sauté onions, ginger, and spices in coconut oil over medium heat in a large dutch oven until onions begin to caramelize.
- Add butternut squash and water and turn heat to high. Bring to a boil and cook until butternut squash becomes exceedingly tender 15 or so minutes.
- Working in batches, add butternut squash, onions, and some of the cooking liquid to the bowl of your food processor and puree until very smooth.
… get the recipe
My neighborhood has two very distinct personalities and nowhere is it more apparent than in my favorite two markets. One is Bi-Rite market; it is a foodie Mecca featuring the most glorious heirloom veggies, specialty products, artisan cheeses, a deli counter that will make a grown San Franciscan weep. The other is Casa Lucas which also features awesome produce, they’ve got the yummiest requeson, and really nice little chorizo though they have no other meat counter to speak of. Tonight I found plantain flour. It was a different kind of specialty product than one might find at Bi-Right but no less special.
I love my two markets. I shop often enough at each that I have a rapport with the people who work there. Each has it’s own rhythm and I feel happy and at home in both places.
Tonight was a Casa Lucas night. I had some handmade tortillas from La Palma that were stale and needed to be used which meant it was a perfect night for tortilla soup. After last night’s heavy dinner, though, the soup was going to be vegan! So, here’s my light and spicy vegan soup with homemade tortilla strips.
- INGREDIENTS FOR THE SOUP
- 4 cups vegetable stock
- 4 carrots (chopped into 1 inch sections)
- ½ red onion diced
- 1 jalapeño (sliced into ½ moons)
- 2 ears corn (removed from ear)
- 2 summer squashes (sliced into rounds)
- 2 cups chard cut into a chiffonade
- 1 ½ tbsp smoked paprika
- ½ tbsp cumin
… get the recipe
Isn’t it the strangest thing when you have two long time friends who have never met? Heather has been my best friend for more than 20 years. Sean and I have been dear friends for more than 11 and even lived together twice. It just so happens that these two friends have never met due to our extremely glamourous jet setting lifestyles. Well, it’s really due to the fact that Heather and I only recently started living in the same metropolitan area again and Sean lives in Southern California, now.
So, you can imagine, I was thrilled when Heather decided to come over for dinner on Thursday while Sean was in town visiting from LA. I’d love to tell you that I decided to make a bright orange soup to support my home team in the world series, but I can’t say I really think about things like baseball. Truth is, I’d been thinking about a spicy carrot soup with pepitas ever since I saw this spicy pumpkin soup from Pinch My Salt. This carrot soup is topped with a spicy pepita butter, requeson, an apple salsa crudo, & Salvadorean chorizo, but could easily become veggie or vegan if you just omit the chorizo the requeson and the tiny amount of cream in the soup.
Joshua, Sean, Heather, and I had such a great time eating, laughing, and drinking some pumpkin beer from Dogfish Head. We also had a little Steak with the pepita butter on top and a carrot … get the recipe
