Curried Broccoli-Cauliflower Soup with White Cheddar

I am heading out of town in a few days, and I wanted something to eat this week that would be readily available and somewhat detoxifying, as I know calorie-laden food will probably abound while I’m on vacation.  I settled on broccoli soup, akin to the one in this post, but as I contemplated my plan of attack, the recipe evolved throughout the day, into a new and blog-worthy form.  Initially, it was supposed to be the vision of simplicity: broccoli, onion, and potato, simmered in chicken broth, then pureed and finished with a little white cheddar, but this beast had a mind of its own.  First, I thought that cauliflower would be a welcome addition.  Then, while skimming through Google searches for recipes, the word “curry” seemed to leap off my computer screen, and land squarely in my mouth.  My dinner’s direction and suddenly become very clear.

The truth is: the smell of curry powder destroys me: mystifying, intoxicating, delightful.  This reaction may seem extreme, but perhaps you have never experienced the aroma that ensues when curry powder hits a hot pan.  Or maybe you weren’t paying attention.  It is one of those instances when the whole exceeds the sum of its parts.  I love foods that fall under this category, as it is truly the magic of cooking; a great pot of soup and other slow cooked dishes tend to spring to mind, as I ponder this notion.  What could be more fitting that a curried soup?  My most recent jar of curry powder (curry powder must be fresh) had a detailed list of ingredients, relative to the other available brands of curry, whose ingredient lists’ consisted vaguely of “turmeric and other spices.”  The jar I purchased included fenugreek, coriander, cumin, turmeric, ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg, amongst other things.  I was pleased to have access to the list, and tried to engage in a little sniff test to see what I could identify; yet, all I could do was deeply inhale and smell the whole earthy combination.  I nearly chocked a couple of times, but it was worth it.

The recipe that resulted from all this excessive thought is a winner for more reasons than one.  First of all, I started the right way: with butter.  This soup is essentially a big bowl of pureed vegetables, and I felt that it needed the rich boost in its base that only butter can provide.  Well, that and bacon fat, but that’s sort of crossing a line when it comes to being considered “vegetarian.”  Regardless of semantics, butter provided a richness in both texture and flavor that was the right fit.  Onion and garlic were then sautéed in the frothy butter foam, until tender; curry powder, nutmeg, and a little cayenne were then lightly toasted in the buttery onions.  Next came the cauliflower and small-diced potato, with just enough broth to cover.  The potato is only there for body, so dice it fine, allowing it to disappear into the soup.  Additionally, it’s crucial to not use excess broth because that will make this pureed veggie soup seem unsatisfying.  After a few minutes, I threw in the broccoli and a touch more broth, and allowed everything to become soft and unctuous.  I whirred the veggie concoction together with my favorite toy, my immersion blender, until it was smooth, with a few stray pieces of curry-stained cauliflower.  A bay leaf would have been a nice touch, but I was too twitterpated by the aroma of the curry powder, and it just slipped my mind. 

I finished the soup with cheese: a sturdy, sharp white cheddar.  Cheese may seem a little off-putting in conjunction with curry; however, the soup needed some sort of salty, creamy, savory element to round out the flavors, soften the edges, and bring them together.  Cream certainly would have been the more obvious choice, and could easily by substituted with about a quarter to a half-cup, but cheese is a clear favorite in my book.  I also think the sharpness of the cheddar adds depth, and a little “je ne said quoi.”  On night two, I actually bedazzeled my soup bowl with a lightly fried egg with a runny yolk.  Delicious.

Curried Cauliflower and Broccoli Soup with White Cheddar

2 tablespoons butter

1 large onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

2-3 teaspoons curry powder

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1/4 teaspoons ground nutmeg

1 head cauliflower, cut into florets

1 large russet potato, peeled and diced

4 cups reduced sodium chicken stock

1 small head broccoli, cut into florets

2 teaspoons honey

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar, white wine vinegar, or lemon juice

1 1/2 cups shredded sharp white cheddar

Toasted pine nuts for garnish (optional)

-       In a large soup pot, preheat 2 tablespoons butter over medium heat

-       Once butter has melted, add onion, and season with salt and pepper.  Sauté, stirring occasionally, until onion has softened, about 8 minutes

-       Add garlic, curry, cayenne, and nutmeg.  Sauté for about 1 minute

-       Add cauliflower, potato, and enough chicken stock to just cover the vegetables.

-       Bring to a boil, and simmer, stirring occasionally for about 10 minutes. 

-       Then add broccoli, and simmer until all vegetables are very tender.

-       Puree with am immersion blender until smooth, with a few stray chunks of cauliflower.

-       In the soup bowl, serve soup with a couple of tablespoons shredded white cheddar, stirred in so that it melts.  Garnish with additional cheese, toasted pine nuts, and/or a poached or over easy egg.

Roasted Broccoli

Oh, hello there, blog.  Remember me?  I’ve been a little swamped lately with my new job.  It’s a lame excuse, but it is sadly a presiding truth in my life.  I work in the public schools, and the rumors are true:  education is in trouble.  I truly love working with my kids, but the politics, the paperwork, and the special ed laws are weighing me down.  Sigh. 

Now that I’ve had my pity party, I will share you with a little ray of light I discovered today.  This morning I realized that maybe I’m feeling weighed down because I have stopped doing a lot of the things that make me happy.  Riding my bike, reading, cooking, being outside, blogging, yoga.  I haven’t done any of those things in a long time.  So today, I pumped some air my tires both literally and figuratively, and got on my bike.  It felt amazing, even better than I remembered.  And tonight, I roasted some broccoli, and enjoyed every part of the process.  And now I am whipping out a blog post, which is perhaps not my most eloquent, but at this point, a shoddy post is better than no post at all.

Now about that broccoli… my aunt told my about roasting broccoli years ago, and it didn’t sound particularly good.  Things get brown and crispy in the oven, and “browned” broccoli didn’t appeal to me.  It made me think of that withered head of broccoli you see, when there are only a couple crowns left at 7:30 at night.  Also broccoli can have such a strong flavor, and I didn’t want to intensify that flavor in the oven.  It turns out I couldn’t have been more wrong.  The roasted broccoli actually mellowed out in the oven, and was perfectly complimented by my favorite flavors, lemon and garlic.   The stalks developed the most delightful texture: tender, but not the least bit mushy.  I cut the broccoli into long, thing spears so there was extra stalk.  Some of the little green buds became crispy, and it was so flavorful.  This recipe was quick, simple, and made my apartment smell like pungent, sweet garlic.  Yum.  The recipe below doesn’t call for much garlic, but fear not, it still packs plenty of garlic punch.

Roasted Broccoli (based on Ina Garten’s recipe)

Preheat the oven to 425

Chop 1 large crown (or as much as you like) of broccoli in long, thin spears.

Transfer to a large foil lined baking dish.  Top with the zest of half a lemon, half a clove of grated garlic, a drizzle of olive oil, a large pinch of salt, and lots of freshly ground pepper.

Toss the mixture together with your hands.  Spread out broccoli in an even layer.

Roast in the oven for about 25 minutes.

When the broccoli comes out of the oven, give it a spritz of fresh lemon, and grate some asiago cheese over the top (parmesan would also be good, but asiago is the new parm).  

Presidential Broccoli Soup, Addendum

Due to the popularity of the presidential broccoli soup, I feel the following information is post-worthy:  the soup freezes beautifully!  I made the original recipe nearly two months ago, and experimentally froze a generous portion in one of those faux Tupperware items (you know what I’m referring to, right?  Glad and Ziploc make them?)  Anyway, as I mentioned, it’s closing in on two months since the soup has been hibernating in my freezer, which is a fairly decent freezer life span.  I defrosted and reheated the soup tonight, and it was just as good as the day I used my immersion blender to whirr those broccoli florets into oblivion.  I topped the soup with some loitering feta cheese (from another recipe you may soon read about), a grind of pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil.  Overall, this was not a shabby dinner.  Of course, as I discussed in the original post, practically any cheese would be a suitable companion for this soup.


It would probably be best to transfer the soup from the freezer to the refrigerator for defrosting purposes, the morning of the desired dinner.  However, I feel that such advanced planning defeats the purpose of having the luxury of meals in your freezer to begin with.  Inevitably, if you took such a sophisticated defrosting approach, you would develop an insatiable hankering for Chipotle come evening.  At a bona fide dinner hour, I simply gave the rock-solid-frozen-soup a few minutes in the microwave on the illusive defrost setting (seriously, what does that mean, objectively?)  Once the perimeter of the container returned to its former liquid state, I put the soup in a pan on low heat over the stove until it reached a steamy, luscious, soupy state.  Add a little cheese to the soup, and a little Radiohead to the mix (perhaps a cocktail, too?), and there is little else you can ask for when confronted with a chilly Tuesday evening in snowy December. 

Blue Plate Special

In case you missed it on the national news, we had a veritable blizzard this week in Boulder.  In snowed for almost 48 hours without stopping.  I kept a close eye on what was going on outside from my balcony, and my total snow fall estimate is close to three feet, and I’m pretty sure the media agrees with me.  Somehow, by the grace of the gods, this resulted in an actual snow day.  I figured that, at 25 years old, I had already exceeded my snow day quota, but I was wrong.  Comfort food cooking was in order to keep myself warm and cozy.  Plus, my unexpected day off necessitated a celebration.  Of course, my first inclination was some sort of creamy pasta, but I make pasta all the time, and I felt that a blizzard deserved something a little less pedestrian.  Well, I mean pedestrian in terms of what frequents my kitchen, because what I chose happens to be one of the most common American dishes of all: meatloaf.  I decided to prepare a genuine blue plate special: meat, potatoes, and a vegetable.  If only I had one of those plates with dividers… 

Turkey Meatloaf

1-tablespoon olive oil, plus a drizzle for the bottom of the baking dish

½ onion, diced finely

½ red bell pepper, diced finely

¼ cup chopped flat leaf parsley

½ cup Italian style breadcrumbs

2 eggs, lightly beaten

2 tablespoons milk

¼ finely grated Parmesan cheese

1 lb. ground turkey (I used dark meat, more fat=more flavor)

3 big pinches kosher salt

About 25 grinds of black pepper

8 oz. can of tomato sauce

§  Preheat oven to 400 degrees (probably 375 would do if you’re at sea level).

§  Sauté onion and red pepper in the olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat for about 5 minutes, until the vegetables start to soften.  Set aside to cool

§  Mix together parsley, breadcrumbs, cheese, eggs, milk, salt, pepper, and cooled vegetables.  Add turkey and mix gently, so all the ingredients are evenly distributed, but without over-working the meat.

§  Transfer to an oiled baking sheet or casserole dish and shape into an oval loaf.  Pour tomato sauce over the top.  Bake in the oven for an hour (or an hour and 15 minutes if you have salmonella paranoia like me.  If you have an instant read thermometer, the temperature should be 165 degrees in the center.  Otherwise cut into it to make sure it’s not pink).

Comments:  I went with turkey meatloaf, and gave it an Italian flare.  It tasted like a giant oven-roasted meatball (yum!) with a tomato sauce glaze.  I'm not sure if the milk was necessary.  It most likely would have been moist enough without it, but the milk was definitely not detrimental.  For potatoes, I made my family’s favorite twice-bake potato casserole, which I wrote about in my Rosh Hashanah post.  It is made with the flesh of baked potatoes (leaving me with a potato skin snack) mixed with sour cream, butter, garlic salt, Lawry’s seasoning salt, and parmesan, and then baked again.  It’s not exactly the culinary masterpiece I would want to serve James Beard, for example (assuming time travel is possible), but it is exactly what I wanted to eat while watching the wooden fence surrounding my apartment building shrink as the snow piled up.  On second thought, James would probably love those potatoes, and so would you.  Steamed broccoli rounded out this decadent meal.  Dinner is healthy when there’s something green on the plate, right?

If you make extra broccoli, the next day (or later that night if you get hungry), you can stuff it into the leftover potato skins.  Reheat them in the microwave, and top them with a little cheese.  Assuming you don’t go overboard with the cheese (and I promise I didn’t), this actually is healthy.  Speaking of leftovers, you haven’t truly lived until you’ve eaten a meatloaf sandwich.  You can brown up a slice in a pan or just have a sandwich cold; it’s wonderful either way.  It’s a lunchtime decision you won’t soon regret.

Presidential Broccoli Soup

Earlier this week, I was speaking with a friend, and amidst a variety of food-related topics, she told me about a fennel soup she had made.  I realized how rarely I make soup, and decided simultaneously that I should explore this unknown gastronomic territory.  My mom makes wonderful soup; she probably has twelve recipes that she whips up effortlessly.  Her proficiency is a little intimidating, but I decided I had to relinquish that feeling, and persevere.  And this is what I love about my silly, sapling of a blog: it continually forces me out of my comfort zone.  No one wants to read about the same recipes repeatedly, so novel foods are starting to dominate my kitchen.  On this particular occasion, soup took center-stage.  

I wanted to make something substantial, a soup that could stand on its own for dinner (perhaps with a little garlic toast to round it out).  I wanted it to be hearty, but not heavy.  After an hour of flipping through cookbooks, and searching on websites, I found the perfect recipe.  My hunt came to an abrupt halt with the title alone: “Rosalynn Carter's Cream of Broccoli Soup-with No Cream.”  Perhaps the title is a bit wordy, but it provides all the relevant information.  For that, I cannot fault it.  Plus, who am I to criticize the First Lady?  I had to chuckle over how bewitched I became with this presidential recipe because my dad has been calling me “president” since my toddler days.  Most little girls are nicknamed “sweetheart” or “sugar”; the Psycho Cooker is dubbed “president.”  I had a laugh, but it’s probably best not to think too deeply on this bizarre anecdote.

Creamless Broccoli Soup, adapted from Rosalynn Carter’s recipe

Ingredients

1 medium onion, chopped

1 clove garlic, crushed

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 bay leaf

1 pound green broccoli, chopped

1 small potato, peeled and chopped

2 14-oz. cans reduced sodium chicken stock (about 3 ½ cups)

Salt and pepper, to taste

1/2 lemon, juiced

Optional accompaniments

Shredded cheddar cheese

Garlic cheese toast

Directions

§  In a large pot, sauté onion and garlic seasoned with salt and pepper in the oil until soft, about 8 minutes.

§  Add bay leaf, broccoli, potato, and stock. Simmer gently, covered for about 15 minutes, until the broccoli and potato are tender, but the broccoli is still green. Remove bay leaf and turn off the heat.

§  Carefully puree with an immersion blender*, leaving some texture.  Or use a regular blender, pureeing it in small batches.  Make sure to vent it slightly (or remove the round plastic piece of the lid), covering it with a kitchen towel to protect yourself from being splashed.  If the blender is not vented, the heat will cause the pressure to build, and ultimately blow the lid off, which is dangerous and messy.

§  Season to taste; add lemon juice and return the pan to reheat if necessary.

§  Serve with shredded cheddar or cheese toast:

o   Lightly toast a piece of whole wheat bread.  While it is warm, rub it with a halved garlic clove.  Lightly drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with cheese of your choice and return the bread to the toaster or broiler until the cheese has melted. 

Comments:  The soup was smooth, soothing, and hearty, without sitting in my stomach like a rock as a cream-based soup can.  The bay leaf added depth, and the lemon makes all the flavors shine through.  Next time, I would decrease the broth to 3 cups, or even a little less, so the soup would be thicker.  However, the consistency was by no means unpleasant.  In fact, I stashed a portion in the freeze, and I expect it will put a smile on my face one chilly night.  I suppose the cheese and/or cheese toast aren’t mandatory, but their absence seems foolish to me.  I, of course, included both.  Think about it:  you are essentially eating a giant bowl of broccoli for dinner; a little cheese is in order. 

*See glossary for definitions

Penne and Broccoli

Penne and broccoli is one of the simplest and most satisfying dishes in my repertoire.  Generally, the only thing I may have to purchase in order to make this meal a reality is a broccoli crown.  It is “pantry cooking” at its finest.  I have yet again to offer thanks to Marc Bittman* for dish, although my preparation includes a few crucial variations from his original recipe.  I started making this when I was first learning to cook, and it was because of this dish that I began speculating about flavor combinations and what it meant to alter a recipe with success.  In general, many mistakes were made as I fine-tuned this skill, however this dish is close to foolproof. 

If you Google “penne with broccoli,” you will find many minor variations on the same theme.  Some call for Parmesan, some Romano, and some do not require cheese at all.  This is actually one of the few pasta dishes that I would potentially accept without cheese, but why deprive yourself?  Some recipes call for hot pepper flakes; some call for flat leaf parsley; some call for neither.  Ultimately, the variety amongst the recipes epitomizes what cooking should be: cook your food the way you like it.  With that being said, I will present you with my personal rendition so you may tailor it to your tastes. 

Penne with Broccoli:

While a pot of water comes to a boil, clean and chop a smallish broccoli crown (I like about 1/3 lb. for myself and this includes one hearty meal, and a portion of leftovers).  Put the broccoli in a bowl, cover it with vented plastic wrap, and microwave for about a minute and half (you want the broccoli just shy of al dente* since it will finish cooking later).

 When the water is almost to a boil, sauté couple of minced garlic cloves and a generous sprinkle of hot pepper flakes in a two to three tablespoons of olive oil.  Zest* a lemon into the hot garlicky oil. 

Add the par-cooked broccoli.  Season with kosher salt* and freshly ground pepper*. Then add about a quarter of a box of penne to the boiling water (I like to salt to water).  You want to give the broccoli about ten minutes in the pan, so time the cooking of your pasta accordingly.  With that being said, it is better for the sauce (or broccoli in this case) to wait for the pasta than the other way around, so it is best to wait an extra minute or two before putting the pasta in the water if you’re fuzzy on the timing.  However, in the event that this doesn’t work out, and the pasta is ready before the sauce, reserve at least half a cup of the pasta cooking liquid* before draining the pasta to help revive it and bring everything together in the final stages.

While the penne cooks, mash the broccoli with the back of a spoon (I generally cook with a wooden spoon.  It makes an excellent broccoli-masher).  Really brutalize the broccoli, break it apart, mash it into little pieces.  It will adhere better to the penne.  If the pan looks bone dry, add a little more olive oil (don't worry, it's good for you).  Just before the penne is ready, juice the zested lemon into the pan (I like to juice it through my hand, or even the grater I used to zest the lemon, to catch seeds). 

Then add the cooked penne.  I like to add the penne directly from the pot to the hot pan of broccoli, using a slotted spoon.  This way, you will get a fair amount of the starchy pasta cooking liquid* into the pan, which brings the dish together.  If you prefer to drain your pasta in a colander, reserve a little cooking water first.  Toss everything together; add salt and pepper to taste, flat leaf parsley if desired (although it is by no means necessary here), and parmesan.  Enjoy!

This recipe is not a far cry from any other penne with broccoli you may find online, or in a cookbook, except for one element: the lemon.  Personally, I find the lemon to be mandatory.  It adds both brightness and depth of flavor.  However, if you have a hankering for this, and have all the ingredients, but the lemon, you will enjoy it nonetheless.  This pasta dish is enormously satisfying, especially considering it only requires a handful of inexpensive ingredients.  The penne makes a major contribution to the satisfaction quotient.  The buxom tubes are deceptive to both your eye and your stomach; a small amount seems to be a lot more than it is in reality.  Furthermore, broccoli is such a substantial vegetable.  As much as I love zucchini or bell peppers, broccoli can stand alone in a way that other vegetables cannot compete with.  Plus this dish is ripe with flavor: garlicky, lemony-bright, spicy, and salty.  Despite its short list of ingredients, it is tall on flavor.

*See glossary for definitions