Gumbo

I need desperately for a sunny, warm weekend. Or day. I would take day. One day without sludge-snow covering everything in this city made by machine. And a day with temps in the 50s.

This weekend I mostly stayed at home. I slept in and read for a large part of Saturday. Sunday, I went to church, read, went to church, watched A Serious Man (the Coen Bros are so weird) with Megan and slept. I didn't cook. I didn't even feel like eating anything. I like the thought of not doing anything, but it's beginning to get old at this point. Plus it feels like I should relax because I want to relax not because stepping one foot outside or opening the window to see that the snow is still there once more is enough to make me retreat under the covers of my bed with a book in hand. This seems about the right time of year for forty days of mourning and solemnity. I made this gumbo for a Mardi Gras party at work, and I may have to make it again once a week until asparagus is in season. It's hearty, making it the perfect meal for winter, yet spicy, which gives a nice wake-up call. Plus, nothing makes me happy like using my Dutch oven.

Gumbo:

2 tablespoons flour

1 chicken breast

1 medium onion

1 green pepper

2 cloves garlic

1 stalk celery

4 cups chicken stock

1/2 teaspoon chili powder

1/2 teaspoon thyme
dash cayenne pepper
salt and pepper
1 bay leaf
2 ounces sausage

2 ounces shrimp

1/4 cup rice

Louisiana hot sauce to season

On medium heat, toast the flour, dry, until it is lightly browned. Remove and set aside. Chop chicken into 1-inch cubes. Cook through with a bit of oil. Remove and set aside. Chop the onion, pepper, garlic and celery. Warm some oil on medium heat, add the vegetables and saute for a few minutes, until the onion is lightly browned. Season with chili, thyme, salt and pepper. Add the chicken stock, bay leaf, shrimp and sausage and already-cooked chicken. Bring to a boil and reduce to simmer. Add the flour back in along with the rice. Stir to incorporate. Simmer until rice is cooked through and the vegetables are softened (about 20 to 30 minutes). Serve and season with Louisiana hot sauce.

Soup Is All I Want

I'm about up to my ears in words. At this point in the magazine's cycle, I'm going over I couldn't even tell you how many stories per day. You would think I'd nothing left to say.

Squash-Apple Soup: from Back to Basics by Ina Garten

1 pound butternut squash
2 apples
1/2 cup onion
1 clove garlic
1 tablespoon olive oil
salt
1 teaspoon curry powder
dash cayenne pepper
2 to 4 cups chicken stock

Topping:
squash seeds
almonds
olive oil
salt and pepper

Peel the squash and apples, chop them along with the onion. Mince the garlic. Ina suggests roasting the vegetables with olive oil and salt and pepper for 30 to 45 minutes at 450 degrees, but I didn't have time so I just sauteed them for 10 to 15 minutes until browned and softened. In retrospect, it probably would have worked out better to roast, but sometimes you sacrifice quality for sanity. Puree the sauteed vegetables with some chicken stock until smooth. Put the pureed vegetables back in the pot, add enough chicken stock to thin out the soup to a desired consistency. On medium-low heat, bring soup to a simmer. Add curry and cayenne pepper, along with the salt, adjusting to taste. Let simmer for another 5 to 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, saute the seeds and almonds on medium-high heat with olive oil, salt and pepper until the seeds are crunchy (8 to 10 minutes). I also added some garlic powder given to me for Christmas by my friend Lindsey. Serve soup topped with seeds and almonds.

Soup That Warms

Winter is in full force in Omaha, and I can't manage to stay warm. Last night I went to bed with the space hearter on with four blankets covering me, two pairs of socks, sweatpants and a T-shirt--still shivering. Heading to Dario's for late-night happy hour helped only temporarily to releave the aches and pains of sub-zero temperatures. Dario's is so cozy, and its Belgian beer takes the chill off. Someone said it reminded them of a ski lodge after hours--I just love that comparison.

Monday night after yet another bout of shoveling the driveway, this soup, with my cold hands cupped around the bowl, warmed me up.

Pappa al pomodoro is a chunky tomato soup with soggy pieces of bread in it, lending a creamy quality. This was my first time using tomatoes from San Marzano, which turned out to be really sweet (for tomatoes). The crispy topping was maybe the best part of the soup. The crunchy pancetta with toasted bread and the tomato soup reminisced pepperoni pizza. This whole thing roasted on the stove while I was out in the cold pushing snow and slipping on the ice.

Pappa al Pomodoro: by Ina Garten

2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 medium onion, chopped
3 carrots, chopped
1 fennel bulb (I substituted celery)
4 garlic cloves, minced
3 cups Italian loaf, cubed
28-ounces whole tomatoes
4 cups chicken stock
1/2 cup red wine
1 tablespoon dried basil
salt and pepper
parmesan cheese

Topping:
3 cups Italian loaf, cubed
2 ounces sliced pancetta, chopped
dried basil
olive oil
salt and pepper
 
In a large stock pot, saute the carrots, onions, garlic and celery (or fennel) in olive oil until the onions are translucent. Add the cubes of bread and saute another 5 minutes. Ladle in the the tomatoes, squishing each one with your hand. Pour in stock, wine, basil and salt and pepper and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and let sit partially covered for 45 minutes.
 
For the toppins, arrange the bread and pancetta on a baking tray. Preheat the oven to 375. Drizzle bread and pancetta with olive oil (because that Italian-style bacon needs more fat), basil leaves and salt and pepper. Toast in the oven for 20 to 25 minutes or until crisp. Serve on the soup with parmesan cheese.

Straciatella Soup -- Egg Drop Italian-style

I don't know how I'm able to maintain it: Life has been so busy lately--but not rushed. We're in the thick of things at the magazine, plus going through a major revamp; I had two stories and a book due this week for the class I'm enrolled in; I volunteer; I'm trying to recruit players for the high school lacrosse team I coach, plus find a decent field on which to play games. Come Friday, I'm exhausted. But not stressed (for the most part).

I think I have to give God a bit of credit here. I've been more intentional about prayer and meditation since this series my church did on prayer late this summer (check out the mp3s of the sermons here--so. flipping. good.). Spending five to 10 minutes in quiet reflection before going to bed has a greater impact on a number of areas, but specifically I've noticed things. Noticed things like immature bald eagles (!) and ferringus hawks harassing birds in my office parking lot. Or leaves. I love leaves; they're like flowers except they smell bad. Or new songs. I received so many little gifts every day. And ohmygosh, this little girl just walked by saying/singing "I like to move it move it/I like to move it move it."

However, yesterday I got some big gifts. Meg and I went to Coco Key last night because it was free (!). Yeah, we waited in line for 20-plus minutes just to get in because they were over capacity, yeah, we got splashed in the hot tub, yeah, kids probably peed in there and I'm definitely going to get the Swine Flu now. But we went down the waterslides, in tandem, in the dark and laughed the ENTIRE way down each time.

At home, I pulled out the old standard, Giada's Family Dinners. There was only 15 minutes before The Office came on, so we didn't have much time. But I finished the straciatella soup in less time than it took for Megan to take a shower.

It seemed too simple. Chicken stock, eggs, herbs, spinach, parmesan. We took our bowls, bread and salad out to sit in front of the TV and watch Michael Scott make an arse of himself, while sipping down the kind of soup that clears your throat when you've got a cold. It was so salty and homey. The whole evening made me love the new apartment all the more and so thankful for the life I have. Just so thankful for all the moments, even the worst ones, but crazy, funny, quiet, soft instances.

Staciatella: from Giada's Family Dinners

6 cups chicken stock (or vegetable)
2 large eggs
2 tablespoons grated parmesan cheese
2 teaspoons dried basil or 2 tablespoons fresh
2 teapsoons dried parsley or 2 tablespoons fresh
2 cups spinach, torn into small pieces

Bring the stock to a boil and reduce to medium-low heat. In a separate, small bowl, whisk eggs, herbs and parmesan. With the stock on medium-low, stir while slowing pouring the egg mixture into it. Let eggs cook for a minute or two then stir in spinach. Season with salt and pepper and serve.

French Leek Soup

A few years back, I read the book French Women Don't Get Fat (even though they eat bread with butter, cheese, chocolate and wine) by Mireille Guiliano. I like the philosophy of Mireille/French women to eat normal portions, good food that is filling (versus over-processed junk like chips--I love chips) without being obsessed with working out. Guiliano tells a story in the book of how people thought she was crazy to walk up 12 flights of stairs to her NYC apartment. But one day the elevator broke down, and all the people who spent an hour a day or more working out were winded walking up the stairs.

I followed Guiliano's recipes for some not-light-at-all croissants and tried (unsuccessfully) to make a baguette. But I hadn't tried her leek soup until last night. I read the book as if it were a novel, but it actually does have a guide to losing weight, and the leek soup is the jump start to weight loss French-style. Guiliano directs readers to make the soup and eat leeks and the broth and only leeks and the broth for three days. Apparently, it's some sort of cleansing method. I don't need to lose weight, so we'll just throw that three days of broth out the window, but I could use a bit of cleansing. Mostly I just wanted a light, simple meal. I was in St. Louis over the weekend for a friend's wedding and I'll be in Boston this weekend, which means once October is over I'll have eaten out far too much. And no matter where you dine, I always feel the heaviness of restaurant food (unless it's sushi).

I don't even think I knew what leeks were before this recipe. But aren't they beautiful, the stalks all braided together like that? In kind with Guiliano's joie de vivre, I took a walk yesterday. Actually, it was a run that became a walk that extended redundantly around blocks I had already passed. But yesterday was so gloriously gloomy. The trees, there was one small one on 52nd Street that looked like it was on fire with red. Soup was invented for days like yesterday.

This recipe was tweaked from a Naked Chef recipe for braised leeks. My mom gave me the biscuits, and I'll post the recipe as soon as she forwards it to me--holy crap they're good. And if they were to be listed on any diet, it would be Guiliano's. I think she would endorse eating this light soup with a cream cheese and butter laden biscuit.

Leek Soup:
2 leeks
1 garlic clove
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1/4 cup white wine
1 pint chicken/vegetable stock
1 teaspoon dried thyme
salt and pepper to taste

Leeks reside comfortably in the onion family; they're much milder than white onions, more akin to spring onions. Coming from the ground, leeks can be pretty dirty, with dirt hiding between the leaves, so be careful as you wash them. Slice the ends off the leeks and continue slicing up the stalk until you get to the leafy part. Finely chop the garlic.

On medium-low heat, melt the butter in a medium pot. Saute the leeks for a minute or two and then toss in the garlic. Throw in the wine and let simmer until it has nearly evaporated. Add the stock. Season with salt, pepper and thyme. Bring soup to a boil and reduce to simmer. Simmer until leeks are soft, about 10 minutes. Serve. I plopped a dollop of ricotta cheese onto my soup--pretty good.

Roasting Tomatoes

Though Friday was chilly and perfect for soup, I can't help but feel that I wasted five superb tomatoes on a soup when they would have been devine as a caprese salad (yes, I'm obsessed). I could have used hard, unripe, orange, grocery-store tomatoes on a soup. But if I was to make another soup, I'd make this roasted tomato puree.

Friday evening the apartment smelled like glorious, glorious garlic and tart roasting tomatoes, while I unwound on the couch, beer in hand. It was a busy week of work, and for once, I left feeling completely spent though with some tasks for The Reader still undone. I even managed to not make a complete, horrid mess of our stovetop and kitchen that is miraculously still spotless--I'll blame Megan for that. The tomato sauce did indeed splash all over the floor and counters, but I had a paper towel on hand to wipe it before it dried. Maybe someday I'll get the hang of this clean-as-you-go business. I'm very much a make-a-huge-mess-then-perform-damage-control kind of person, in and outside the kitchen. This soup harkens summer, is roasty, creamy and just awesome. (How's that for stunning prose?) Get ready for loads of soup not that fall is here. Roasted Tomato Soup: from Gourmet
2 pounds tomatoes
6 garlic cloves
olive oil
salt and pepper
1 tablespoon butter
oregano
1/2 white onion, chopped
1/2 cup cream

parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 400. Cut tomatoes in half. Arrange on a baking sheet with unpeeled garlic cloves. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast for 1 hour. Remove from oven and let cool slightly. Peel the garlic.

In a medium saucepan on medium heat, melt butter. Add onions and oregano to saucepan and saute until onions are translucent. Turn down heat and add the whole tomatoes and peeled garlic. Simmer covered for about 20 minutes. Carefully, spoon soup into food processor to puree. Pour pureed soup through a sieve back into the saucepan. On low heat, bring back to a simmer. Add cream (or as in my case, ricotta cheese, which will not incorporate the way you want it to but will still taste awesome) and parmesan cheese. Serve garnished with fresh oregano--if you're fancy enough to have some (which I am). Add parmesan cheese and salt and pepper to taste.

Fall Soup in Summer

I realize now may not be the best time of year for a hot soup, particularly one that features butternut squash. But this soup, dios mio, my favorite ever. The recipe is tweaked from one on 101 Cookbooks, always reliable. I tend to think of cooking and even baking as a creative activity on line with writing, painting and music. But it's so easy to create a new dish by just tweaking one or two ingredients, it almost doesn't seem fair. Change is the natural progression of a recipe. Each person puts their imprint on lasagna, they pass it on and the next person makes a tweak here and there. There are infinitessimal ways to make one single meal. In that way cooking is like language. (Allow me to put my nerd glasses on.) Change and creativity are what I absolutely love about language. Living language is always in flux, adding new words, dropping old ones. There are a million and one ways to communicate what would amount to the same utterance, and each person does it differently, and (even more fascinating) each culture does it differently. There are rules to language (and cooking), we know the rules and then we break them. It's beautiful. This all got me to thinking about creative process. I mean, there's not much creative energy in substituting Holly's adzuki beans with cannellinis, and the only reason why I did it was because I didn't have adzukis. I tend to think of anything creative as something that requires a lot of energy. But maybe that's completely false. I think creativity can be simple. Look at "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," for example. That is a song we sing to children. It's a simple tune, but it's lovely. The original Mozart diddy goes off on a much more complex tirade, but the melody is still there. I think we make creativity into something impossible. I hear things all the time like "I could never paint that." Sure, you can't paint that, but you can paint something. Along the same lines, I wonder how much of the truly creative, original stuff is born out of necessity. I tend to think of creativity springing from a wealth of money, love, happiness and time. But maybe it really springs from depravity.

Enough of my high-brow tangent. All you really want is the recipe.

Cannellini Butternut Squash Soup: 2 tablespoons olive oil 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1 teaspoon coriander 1 teapsoon dried red pepper flakes 1 teapsoon salt 1 onion, diced 3 cloves garlic, diced 2 cups butternut squash, peeled and chopped 3 cups chicken stock 1 15-ounce can diced tomatoes 1 15-ounce can rinsed cannellini beans In a medium skillet, heat oil on medium heat. Saute cinnamon, coriander, pepper flakes and salt for a few minutes. Toss in the onion, and saute until translucent. Add the garlic and squash, stir to coat with oil and then add the stock. Bring to a boil, reduce and simmer for 5 to 10 minutes until squash softens a bit. Using a potato masher or a large fork, break up the squash a bit. It doesn't have to be a puree, just a little less chunky. Add the tomatoes and cook for a couple minutes. Then add the beans. Continue simmering for about 5 minutes. Season to taste with salt and spices. Serves 4.

Some Like It Hot

Before going to Africa I went to this lovely place called Ohio for a culinary weekend at the Hide Away Inn. I don't want to talk about the details of the weekend--in fact I'd like to forget the details of that weekend. However, the inn was adorable and the food--oh my--I could not wait to finally have time in my schedule to make this soup and salad. Thai food usually comes with a kick that, when well done, simply wakes up the taste buds to enjoy the lime-ginger-lemongrass-curry flavors that dominate Thai dishes. I've heard it said (so I can't take credit for this analysis) that Thais have perfected the sweet-spicy-savory flavor combinations. Cucumber Salad:
1 large cucumber
3 green onions, finely sliced
1/4 cup diced red pepper (I used green bell peppers--they are half the price of the red peppers for no reason that is apparent to me)
1/2 cup of fresh cilantro (I tore my cupboard apart and still couldn't find even dried cilantro, it's fine without)
1/4 roughly chopped dry-roasted peanuts (didn't have this either)
2 tablespoons lime juice (or juice from 1/2 a lime)
2 tablespoons fish sauce (don't mind the smell, your food won't taste that bad)
1/2 teaspoon oyster paste
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon sugar

Wash and dice the cucumber. Add spring onion, peppers, and cilantro and peanuts (if you have them) to the cucumber in a large bowl.

In a separate, smaller bowl, mix the rest of the ingredients with a fork or whisk to make a dressing. If it turns out you don't have oyster paste lying around but you do have musaman curry paste collecting dust in the cupboard, replace oyster paste and cayenne pepper with curry paste (something likely to be incredibly spicy if it's anything like this curry). The substitution worked out perfectly. Coconut Lime Soup: 2 14-ounce cans of coconut milk
2 cups water
2 tablespoons minced ginger root
4 tablespoons lime juice
2 tablespoons fish sauce (this is what Thais use instead of salt, fyi)
1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder
dash of cayenne pepper
1 green onion, thinly sliced

Bring coconut milk and water to a boil and reduce to a simmer. Mince ginger root in a garlic press and add to stock. Stir in lime juice, fish sauce, turmeric powder and cayenne pepper. Season to taste. Add half of the green onion. Simmer soup for 10 to 15 minutes. Serve and garnish with remaining green onion.

It's Chicken Noodle Soup Y'all

Some really great things have been happening lately. And I mean really great. So great I can't even handle it. In one day my name was drawn out of a hat to go on a trip to Africa for work. (Let's contemplate the ridiculousness/awesomeness of that in subsequent postings.) And then I got home and had a package sitting on top of my mailbox that signalled my acceptance into a graduate school for creative writing. I did the dance, running up the stairs, calling my mom completely out of breath, lusting after fabulous life in Boston ... and then I freaked out. I thought about my entire future (or at least two years of it) and it was like in tetris when you advance so far and allthetilesstartfallingdownatonceandyoucan'tstopitandit'soutofcontrolandthen game over.

But I got a grip, which I subsequently lost again. Thanks to some coaching by Lindsey, I've got a plan that does not involve an existential crisis.

This will probably come as no surprise, but I use food as a coping mechanism. And last night, what I needed was to cope. And chop things into tiny pieces. And I'm getting a cold, so soup.

Chicken Noodle Soup: 1 tablespoon olive oil 1/2 large onion, chopped 1/2 cup carrots, chopped (or one or two whole carrots) 1 garlic clove, chopped 4 cups chicken stock 2 pounds chicken (this is approximate, I used one leg and it wasn't enough) 1/2 cup orzo pasta (or 1 cup egg noodles) 1 teapsoon dried parsley 1 teapsoon dried basil

Heat oil in medium skillet on medium heat, saute carrots and onion for a few minutes until onion is a bit translucent. Saute garlic for 1 minute. Add chicken stock, bring to boil and reduce to simmer. Add chicken. I added a chicken leg, boiled it for about 15 minutes until it was cooked through, removed it from the stock and chopped it separately to throw back into the soup. You could probably just use chicken breast or any other meat and chop it beforehand and simmer for 10-15 minutes.

On a heavy simmer, toss in the pasta--I added 1 whole cup of orzo (which is rice-shaped pasta) and it took over, so don't do that. Continue to simmer until pasta is cooked through according to directions. Add salt and pepper to taste and top with parsley and basil (I'm Italian, this is how we roll).

Garbanzo Bean Stew

I thought I was going to have my Monday routine back in action: come home from work, work out, cook, watch Gossip Girl. Alas, Gossip Girl was a rerun--for the fourth week in a row! Come on people. Don't they know I need my guilty pleasures.

I suppose I shouldn't complain because the rest of my routine worked out. Dinner was great and easy. And I even managed to get over my fear of cooked spinach. Cooked spinach brings up bad a singular bad memory for me. I swear it happened, but my dad swears it didn't.

I was five and we were living in the rented house in LaVista. Mom must have been working, so Dad was making dinner or reheating something and it was, dun dun dun, cooked spinach. I swear it was so bad I gagged and threw up. Probably I just spit it out of my mouth. So I got mad at my dad, probably made some sort of fit-temper-tantrum thing and ran away from home. I only made it to the bottom of the street before Dad came and got me. All this drama over a bunch of limp spinach that (to be fair) probably was pretty bad. I had major issues with vegetables as a child. Come to think of it, this is actually a really great memory because I have always wanted to dramatically leave somewhere and have someone chase after me--just like in the movies. You could say it's a fantasy of mine. I haven't added any sort of wilted green to anything since then, even though it seems to be so popular of late. I'm over it. So mom, I think it's time that you got over your childhood fear/hatred for beans and make this garbanzo bean stew. You can work your way up to lima beans.

Garbanzo Bean Stew: adapted from Food and Wine
10 ounces fresh spinach
2 cloves garlic
1 teaspoon turmeric
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
2 teaspoons paprika
1 teaspoon cumin
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 onion, chopped
1 15-ounce can diced tomatoes
1 15-ounce cans of garbanzo beans or chickpeas

In a medium skillet, bring a pot of water to a boil. Drop in spinach and simmer for 2 or 3 minutes until wilted, stirring. Drain spinach in colander and use a paper towel to squeeze out some of the water. Coarsley chop.

In a small mixing bowl, mince the garlic. Mix garlic with turmeric, salt and pepper. Add in 1/4 cup of the water from one of the cans of chickpeas. Add paprika, cumin, cloves and chile powder and blend together.

In the medium skillet, saute onions with tomatoes (undrained). Allow some of the juice to evaporate, so saute for about 5 minutes. Add the garlic mixture and the rest of the chickpeas and it's water. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to simmer. Add the spinach and simmer for 15 minutes or until garbanzo beans are cooked through and split. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Cockles and Mussels, Alive, Alive-O

It's safe to say that mussels are not typical Nebraska fare (seems obvious enough), but aside from that I would guess that most people I know haven't even tried them. I told my parents I cooked using mussels for the first time and they both said "eww." But it's all a part of my New Year's resolution to cook dishes that aren't Italian. This one is French(ish). In fact, the first time I tried mussels was in Paris at a restaurant in the Latin Quarter. They came simply dressed, in a bucket and probably cooked in wine and maybe garlic. That's it. (Dario's in Omaha has some fantastic mussels also served in a bucket but with tomatoes and thyme--simplicity is key here). Maybe because mussels are a tad tricky to prepare, they don't need all that extra work while you cook them. Just a theory. I was actually a little bit freaked out to cook with mussels, thinking that the little guys were still alive up until going into the pot with boiling and steaming wine. To prepare mussels you have to toss them in a bowl of cool water so that they'll spit out the sand and salt still inside the shell while they "breathe." So there I was staring into this bowl of bivalves while they cracked open their shells and little air bubbles popped up. I was enthralled up until the point at which I had to touch them. After they soak in the water for 30 minutes, you have to clean their shells. At first glance I thought, "eh, mine look pretty clean. I don't need to scrub them." Not true. There's a kind of slime on the outside of the shells that needs to be scrubbed off before you eat them. And some of my mussels were clenching little pieces of vegetation that I had to pull off or snip off with kitchen shears. I was, to put it mildly, totally freaked out. These things are alive. And even worse, some of them weren't alive and were hanging open and going bad by the second. I carefully spooned them shell by shell into a strainer under running water, meanwhile discarding the dead ones. I eventually got the hang of it, wasn't that freaked out and ended up very proud for doing it all by myself. The entire experience of cooking the mussels was full of "woah" moments. Woah, they breathe. Woah, some are dead. Woah, this isn't so bad. But the biggest woah moment happened when I cooked (brutally killed) them. The recipe said to bring 3/4 of a cup of white wine to a boil. Three-quarters of a cup was supposed to do it for two pounds of mussels. Really? I doubted the recipe. I had already cooked one thing from this cookbook that turned out so bad it practically inspired a gag reflex. But Fran and Joanne were right. I tossed my shells into the simmering wine, put the lid on the pot and opened it six or seven minutes later to discover, miracle of miracles, perfectly cooked mussels and enough leftover stock to add substance to my soup. And then I caught a dish towel on fire. Our stove has gas burners, which is supposed to be really great for cooking (hypothetically). It's just not the best idea to be doing three things at once on the stovetop near the open flame. Good thing I caught the fire before it grew too big because we do not have a fire extinguisher. But Megan's cute, Christmas tree dish towel is now ruined.

The soup turned out fantastic, simple and savory. I replaced saffron with turmeric because there was no way I was going to spend $12 for a "pinch" of the fragrant spice. Sorry. I don't love myself that much.

Cream of Mussel Soup: inspired from The French Market by Joanne Harris and Fran Warde 2 tablespoons olive oil 1/2 cup onion, chopped 2 garlic cloves, chopped 1/3 cup flour 2 cups fish stock (yeah, yeah I used chicken) 1/3 cup cream 1 teaspoon turmeric 3/4 cup white wine 2 pounds mussels, cleaned and brushed (the recipe actually called for 4 pounds) salt and pepper to taste parsley to garnish Heat olive oil in a stock pot on medium heat. Saute onions for several minutes, add garlic and saute for another minute being careful not to burn garlic. Toss in the flour and stir to coat vegetables. Add stock, bring to a boil and reduce to simmer. Stir until the mixture is free of clumps of flour. Add in the cream and turmeric. Let simmer for 12 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a different pot, bring the wine to a boil/simmer. Add the cleaned mussels and put a lid on the simmering pot. Let simmer for 6 or 7 minutes. Remove lid, mussels should be open. Toss out any mussels that are still closed. Let mussels set for a few minutes until they are cool enough to touch. Then remove the meat from the shell and add to the cream mixture. (You can actually leave the mussels in the shells and take them out while you eat.) Add the wine to the soup. Stir and let simmer for several minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste, and garnish with parsley.

Miso Soup

I had Japanese for lunch, dinner and drinks on Friday. It may have been a bit much for one day I suppose, but I am a person who lived in Thailand and ate rice every single day for two months straight. I would not recommend it. Inspired by the cold and 101 Cookbooks, soup just sounded so good. It's funny how many times I've cooked recipes from the 101 Cookbooks blog because I think her style of cooking is very different from mine. She's a vegetarian (big difference) and does more down-home dishes than I do, but maybe we're more alike than I think. That or her food looks just so delish in the photos. I used up the remainder of my tofu from Jane's Health Market. Last week was the first time I had ever cooked with the spungy/squishy protein. I enjoy eating it, which is more than I can say for a lot of people. Can you imagine me trying to serve that to my dad--or even my mom? They would scoff. It is kind of a weird thing. It is pretty versatile. My old roomate put tofu in spaghetti with marinara once, it was pretty good. I stopped by Midwest Oriental Foods to get soba noodles and miso paste. I don't think I found the right kind of paste. I ended up with a packet of powdered substance (sort of pasty) with dried up bits of tofu and seaweed. What I made was probably the Japanese equivalent to American college students inventing dishes to go with ramen noodles. In Japan, they improvise with miso soup and soba noodles. I think I may have digressed here back when I tried to make Thai green curry, but if anyone in the Omaha-area is interested, there are a grip of Oriental and specialty food stores on 84th Street between Center and L. Aki used to fly in fresh sushi-grade fish the first Saturday of the month. Though they stopped doing it about a year ago, they do have the only (frozen) sushi-grade fish in town. And (I'm not supposed to tell you this) but when the local sushi joints run out of fish, in a pinch, they call Aki. Near Midwest Oriental, there is an Indian Grocery which then connects to a Mediterranean grocer. The Mediterannean place stocks the weirder ingredients--like don't go there for feta cheese. We often forget that Turkish, Lebanese and Moroccan foods count as Mediterranean. And I finally found a Thai food market on South 24th last week, too. These places are everywhere, you just have to dig a little. Check here for 101 Cookbooks' recipe for Miso Soup.

Guest Chef: Maria

I love when I don't feel much like cooking and Maria sends me photos and recipes. She must know when I'm uninspired or when it's so freaking cold I don't want to step outside. (I need a good soup, and this one looks pretty good.) So here's another dispatch from Maria. A few days ago I was stuck with that age-old question, what should I make for dinner? I assessed what I had in my pantry and fridge and decided to Google "squash and white beans" (Ed note: I never thought of that, such a good idea.) That's my fall back when I don't have a meal planned and only have random ingrediants. I came across this soup from Marth Stewart (never really felt one way or the other about Martha--don't tell my mom that, Maria). I didn't have celery, onion, diced tomatoes or leaf-shaped cookie cutters (who does). However, I did have the broth, squash, and beans. To make up for the onion, I added some frozen onion and bell pepper mix (frozen veggies aren't as good as fresh, but they keep longer and are cheaper, says the poor grad student). While digging around my freezer I realized I still had some containers of frozen leftover turkey from Thanksgiving (Woah, Maria). I'm not a big turkey fan so I just never got around to using it. We stuffed our turkey with spinach pesto so I figured it would taste good. I dumped it all in a pot (kind of following Martha's directions) and it turned out great. My boring bread was toasted and buttered and square-shaped. Ed. note: I actually think Maria's soup looks better than the photo of Martha's soup, frozen veggies aside (we all do it). Squash and White Bean Soup: 3 tablespoons olive oil 1 celery stalk, strings removed, cut into 1/2-inch pieces (about 1/2 cup) 1 medium onion, diced (about 1 cup) 1 garlic clove, minced 1 1/2 pounds (about 2 cups) butternut squash, peeled and seeded, fleshcut into 3/4-inch cubes 1 cup canned diced tomatoes, drained (optional) 4 cups low-sodium canned beef broth 4 thin slices sandwich bread 1 cup canned great northern white beans, rinsed and drained Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a medium pot over medium heat until hot but not smoking. Add celery; cook, stirring, for 2 minutes. Add onion and garlic; saute, stirring occasionally, until softened, 5 to 7 minutes. Stir in squash and tomatoes; cook until liquid has evaporated, about 5 minutes. Add broth; bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low; simmer until squash is tender, 18 to 20 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 350 degrees. Use a leaf-shape cutter to cutleaves from bread (Martha is freaking ridiculous, just toast and butter it); arrange on a baking sheet. Brush with remaining tablespoon oil; bake until just golden, about 10 minutes. Add beans to pot, and cook until they are warmed through, about 2 to 4 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. If you want to thicken this soup, I would recommend using corn starch with cold water and adding it while the soup is simmering. If you want to throw in turkey, like Maria did, I would throw it in with the squash if it's already been cooked and just before the veggies if uncooked. Or, if it's not boneless, you could throw it in with water and do up some old-fashioned turkey broth. I think the tomatoes are totally skippable on this recipe. So-so canned to tomatoes would add an acidity that won't pair well with the savory squash.

Wild Mushroom Soup

Inspiration for this soup came from 101 Cookbooks. You know how crazy I get at the sight of mushrooms. Click on the 101 Cookbooks link above to see her much more fantastically photographed version of the above soup.) I made some tweaks to the recipe, and I think it turned out pretty delicious. Wild Mushroom Soup: 1/2 cup dry oyster shrooms (any combination of shrooms will work here, just be sure that at least some are dry) 3 cups water 1 tablespoon butter 1 leek stalk, coarsely chopped 2 small yellow potatoes, chopped 2 cloves garlic, chopped 1 cup cremini shrooms, coarsely chopped salt and pepper to taste 1 teaspoon dried rosemary parmasan cheese Soak dried mushrooms in a large pot with hot water for 15 minutes. Set aside. Heat butter in a skillet on stovetop and saute leeks and potatoes for about 5 minutes. Add salt and pepper. (Next time I would use onion or shallots as they have a stronger flavor). Toss in the mushrooms and garlic and saute for a few minutes--you don't want the garlic to burn here, we just want the mushrooms to soak up some of the flavor of the butter and onions. Add the sauteed vegetables to the pot of soaking mushrooms. Add 2 more cups of water and bring mixture to a boil. Add rosemary and loads more salt and pepper. Simmer for 10 minutes or until potatoes are tender. Serve with parmasan cheese sprinkled on top.

Jenny, My Food Partner in Crime

Jenny was always my food buddy. We will both eat pretty much anything and would often end up spliting meals, such as at the Grand Luxe in Chicago or at Il Spazio (affectionately referred to as The Spaz) in Kirksville, Mo. It was Jenny who also taught me not to scrape the tongs of my fork on my teeth when eating--now I hate when people do that too. We had a lot of memories in the kitchen of that freezing, old house on Jefferson--staying up late eating peanut butter and chocolate chips and talking about boys. Ahhh, the good ol' days. So it's only fitting that Jenny help bolster the content of this blog from afar. It's almost as good as a late-night laugh-fest. Almost. The top photo is of potato soup, modified from something on Allrecipes.com. Looks perty, don't it.

And here we have one of Jenny's trademarks: pesto pasta. She loves it. And actually, the recipe reminisces the best pasta dish ever that we shared at the aforementioned Grand Luxe Cafe.

Potato Soup: 3/4 cup chopped celery 1/4 cup chopped onion 1 15-ounce can chicken stock 5 peeled and cubed russet potatoes 2 teaspoons flour 1/2 package ranch dressing mix 1 cup half and half 1/2 cup sour cream sprinkle of bacon bits and cheddar cheese Cook down onions and celery until tender in a pot. Add chicken broth, about a 1/4 cup water and potatoes and boil until potatoes are tender. Reduce heat and mash about 1/3 of the potatoes in the pot (or food processor would probably work too). In a bowl, combine flour and ranch mix, then whisk in the half and half and sour cream. Add the mixture into the soup, stirring. Once combined, heat soup for another minute or so and remove from heat. Season with salt and pepper and parsley. Serve and sprinkle with bacon bits and cheese. Pesto Pasta: 1 regular-size package shell or bow tie pasta 1 15-ounce can artichoke hearts 1/2 cup fresh mushrooms (chopped) 1/2 cup tomato pesto dressing 1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese Cook pasta according to directions on box. Heat artichokes and mushrooms in a small pan until mushrooms are tender (use 1 tablespoon of butter as a saute). Drain pasta and add it to mushroom/artichokes and add dressing with heat on low. Top with feta and serve. I couldn't decide what photo to leave you with: cute or funny, funny or cute? I went with funny (I must have a thing with embarassing my friends). This photo is from last year's New Year's party. Good times. There were way too many cameras documenting that night.

Black Bean Soup With a Kick

I stinking love how easy soups can be. I came home from work and pretty much just threw a bunch of crap in a pot, let it simmer for 20 minutes and had a meal. I stuck pretty closely to the Gourmet recipe on this one, with one modification: no jalepenos. Ever since my former roommate (Rebecca) made salsa from scratch and burned her hands on the jalapenos I've been a bit uneasy about dealing with the hot pepper. I know the seeds are the killers, but still. I have a thing against stuff that is so spicy you can't taste anything but the heat. I substituted a bit of cayenne pepper, which, as it turns out, is only slightly less hazardous. I sprinkled some of the red pepper into the soup and leaned in to take a whiff of the cumin and chili powder sweltering in the pot and completely inhaled the cayenne pepper. It coated the inside of my nose, my sinuses and all the way back to my throat. Woah! I coughed, sneezed and ran for some water. Fortunately the burn only lasts a minute, unlike Rebecca's jalapeno burn (which lasted all night)--seriously people, be careful with the hot peppers. Black Bean Soup: 1/2 medium onion, chopped 2 cloves garlic, chopped 1/4 cup green pepper, (duh) chopped 1 russet potato, chopped 2 tablespoons olive or vegetable oil dash salt dash cayenne (aka red) pepper (a little goes a long way here) 1 1/4 teaspoon chili powder 1 1/4 teaspoon cumin 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano 2 15-ounce cans black beans, rinsed 3 cups vegetable or chicken stock 1 bay leaf optional: grated cheese (colby, jack, cheddar) Add oil to 5-quart pot on med/high heat. Saute potatoes for a couple minutes, then add onions, peppers and garlic (mmm, garlic) on med/high heat until onions are lightly browned. Add spices, salt and pepper while the vegetables are sauteing (carefully). Add beans, stock and bay leaf. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 15 minutes. Blend 1 cup of soup mixture in food processor or blender (genius trick to thicken bean soups, works every time). Use caution when transferring hot liquids. Reheat, if necessary. Serve (I highly recommend using cheese).

Italian Chili

I'm not much of a planner when it comes to dinner. I have a hankering (good word, eh) for something and then I make it, with or without all the ingredients. Sometimes it works out spectacularly, sometimes not. I was without proper supplies twice last weekend, once when I attempted a baguette (baking is just not my thing right now) and once when I made this soup. With the baguette, we only had wheat flour, and the bread turned out really dense (I am telling you, it was the flour!). For the soup, I made an extra run to my new favorite grocer, Wohlner's, to get pancetta from their superb meat counter but didn't realize I only had one can of kidney beans and no parmasan cheese. Instead of improvising with cannellini beans (which I have done before), I ran to the (slightly ghetto) No Frills down the street. There is no substitute for parmasan cheese. This recipe is another reason I love love love Giada di Laurentiis. It is flipping amazing. Salty, savory. For the skeptics (dad), I call it Italian chili, because it is pretty hearty.

(I do hate this photo, please trust that it tastes much much better than it looks)

Pasta e fagioli alla Giada:

1 tablespoon olive oil 1/2 cup chopped onion 3 ounces pancetta (or bacon) 1 garlic clove, diced 5 4/3 cups chicken stock 2 15-ounce cans kidney beans, drained and rinsed 1 bay leaf 1 teaspoon dry thyme (or to taste) 1 teaspoon dry rosemary (or to taste) 3/4 cup elbow macaroni Heat olive oil in large skillet. Add the onion, pancetta and garlic and saute until the onion is tender (3 minutes). Add the broth, beans and herbs. Bring to a boil then simmer and cover until vegetables are tender (10 minutes). Puree 1 cup of the bean mixture in a food processor (this part is super important, I thought it was skippable, but it thickens the soup. Even my food processor can handle it). Return puree to mixture. Bring soup to a boil and add macaroni. With the lid on boil until macaroni is soft (8 minutes). Season with salt, pepper and parmasan cheese.

Noni's Tortellini Soup.

This recipe is a Leonatti family legend. Leonatti/Bernardi* women have been making it for at least four generations: Noni, Grams, my mom and my aunts and now me. And I'm sure Bernardis are still making this in Torino. My mom would make it when I was little and tell stories about going to visit Grandma Noni in Carlonville, Ill., when she was little. I imagine my mom sitting on a stool watching Noni roll the dough through a pasta machine, place a dollop of ricotta/chicken goodness on the paper-thin dough and pinch it into perfectly shaped pocket. I took a few shortcuts on this one, namely frozen tortellini. There is no way I'm going to attempt homemade pasta again until I get a pasta machine for Christmas (*hint*). Frozen pasta aside, this is my favorite soup of all time. Colors of the Italian flag (or Irish flag, whatever)

There is no written down recipe, or at least I don't own it (I'm being dramatic, I'm sure there is somewhere). This all meant that I called my mom no less than three times last night to make sure I was doing it right. Turns out my mom is actually making this soup for dinner tonight. Scary.

"Can I put garlic in it?" "What herbs do you use?" "How long do I need to simmer the vegetables?" She answered all these with patience, even though I called her four times while she was on the phone with my sister and likely fielding questions from my other sister. I tell you, parenting never stops.

Megs and I ate the soup at 9 p.m. (European style) after we got back to the gym. Below is Megan's addition to the meal: the greenest, healthiest salad ever. It had cilantro and dill in it! I know, you're drooling, it's OK.

Note: If you don't already know, I am an inprecise cook. I just made a pile of carrots, a pile of celery and a pile of onion and called it good. So add as much or as little of each as you want. Noni's Tortellini Soup: 6 cups chicken stock 1-3 celery stalks, chopped (with leaves, unless your celery leaves are brownish-pink like mine were, then you should throw them away) 1 cup carrots, chopped 1/2 cup onion, chopped 1 garlic clove, chopped (optional) 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 tablespoon corn starch mixed with a bit of cold water (for thickening, also optional) 8 ounces frozen (or fresh) tortellini 1 tablespoon dry tarragon (optional) Saute vegetables in olive oil until onion and garlic are translucent (apparently my mom doesn't perform this step, I just didn't want to wait 30 minutes for the vegetables to get soft, so I helped them along). Add chicken stock and bring to a boil. Simmer stock and vegetables for 30 minutes. Add frozen tortellini to stock, boil for 7-9 minutes. Add corn starch and tarragon. Stir and serve sprinkled with parmasan cheese. *If you're confused about the surnames, Leonatti is my mom's maiden name and Bernardi is her grandmother's maiden name. We've got this patriarchal tradition of losing the mother's name, so who knows where this recipe started.

Soups On.

Fall is just about here. It is my favorite season, even though I get horrible hayfever. I just love putting on sweatshirts, being comfortable in jeans again, sleeping under the covers and the smell of people turning on their furnaces. I also love soup. You can't eat soup in the summer, too hot. But fall, mmm. Butternut squash soup would have be the quintessential fall soup, you know, pumpkins, harvest, halloween.

I have indeed eaten pumpkin soup before, but I have never made it. And my experience with the vegetable is pretty limited to experiments this week and a butternut squash and risotto dish I made a couple years ago. I adapted this recipe from this amazing food blog and a Gourmet magazine recipe. (The Gourmet recipe called for either Turkish or Californian bay leaves. What? Who are these people.)

There's something intensely gratifying about chopping vegetables into tiny pieces. I do not feel the same about chopping acorn squash. The skin is thick. It would have been easier to open it with a hammer. And I did have to roast the squash for a while to soften it. I don't think I would have had the same problems using butternut squash, but seriously, I'm lucking I didn't cut my fingers off.

Also, and this is important. My mom is looking for a good soup cookbook. Leave recommendations in the comments section thanks.

Butternut (Acorn) Squash Soup:

2 small potatoes chopped

1 celery stalk chopped 1 carrot chopped

2 pounds butternut squash chopped

3 cremini mushrooms diced and sauteed

1/2 medium onion chopped

2 tablespoons olive oil

4 cups chicken stock

Sautee onions with salt and pepper in olive oil until tender in large pot. Add potatoes, celery, carrot, squash and stock and bring to a boil. Simmer for 20 minutes or until vegetables are tender. Turn heat off and let sit for 10 minutes. Transfer soup to food processor and puree, bit by bit if necessary. Add sauteed mushrooms and serve. Salt and pepper to taste.