Kale, White Bean, and Kielbasa Soup

A magical time of year is descending upon us.  From the depths of December, we have emerged, earning about a scant minute of additional light each day.  Now that we have reached March, those tiny moments have accumulated into a meaningful amount, and regardless of the temperature, we can literally see and feel the light at the end of winter’s tunnel.  As if that weren’t enough, the added bonus of Day Light Saving’s Time is around the corner.  No one is happier about these lighter days than me, but it also makes me grateful for the last few cold days that allow me to relish soups, stews, roasted chicken, and other hearty dishes that become insufferable during the hot, bright summer months.  I can handle bring; hot is a different story.  I will cling to every last minute that affords me hearty winter cooking, knowing that the dog days of summer will allow for more than enough grilling, salads, and chilled pasta salads.

And thus, kale/white bean/kielbasa soup is my latest brainchild, born of my ironic depression over losing the indulgent, lazy coziness of winter.  I will indulge until it’s too hot to simmer soup on the stove, and too hot to turn on the oven.  I’m not sure how this idea in particular got planted in my brain, but I had something very specific in mind, regarding this soup concept.  I make a lot of kale soups, but they are usually tomatoey, and I knew this one should not be.  I ideally wanted it to be pure as the driven-white-bean-snow, then studded with kale and kielbasa.  I did not want it broth-y, but rather a creamy-beany texture.  This blending was an automatic requirement, which means I get to use my immersion blender, and my immersion blender makes me grin from ear to ear.  I also knew I did not want the kale or the sausage blended. 

Kielbasa was another absolute certainty in my one track mind: smoky, garlicky half moons percolating my soup.  Sadly, I love Johnsonville kielbasa (it is like a slightly more complex hot dog. YUM.), yet I knew that I would be disappointed if I didn’t go for something less processed.  I am becoming increasingly paranoid about the quality of ingredients that I use, and a growing percentage of my pantry and refrigerator are organic, and purchased at Whole Foods.  Alas, there was only one thing to do… purchase the kielbasa at Whole Foods.  The brand is called Wellshire; it is (allegedly) humanely raised; I recognized all 6 ingredients listed on the package as actual, recognized foods.  Good enough for me.

I digress.  The soup consists of celery, carrots, onion, and potatoes simmered in a rosemary-scented broth, with a chunk of parmesan cheese rind bobbing about, giving it a lovely, umami flavor.  (The base flavor is the smoky pork fat rendered from the kielbasa, which was set aside after it was browned).  When the aforementioned vegetables were simmered into tender submission, I then added 2 cans of great northern beans, and blended it up to a quasi-chunky consistency.  The potato added body in conjunction with the beans, but the soup probably would have been much prettier without the carrot.  Oh, well.  I then returned the kielbasa to its natural environment (the soup pot where it initially became browned and carmalized), and added ribbons of curly, green kale, and continued to simmer it until all was tender and lovely.  A delicious soup, but admittedly better the next day with a shower of freshly grated Parmesan cheese, as is the nature of all good soups.  Enjoy.

Kale, White Bean, and Kielbasa Soup

1 tablespoon olive oil

3/4 pound kielbasa, sliced in half moons

2 cans great northern beans, drained and rinsed

1 bunch kale, stems removed, leaves sliced into half inch ribbons

1 onion, diced

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 stalks celery, diced

2 carrot, diced

1 medium potato, peeled and diced

2 teaspoons minced rosemary

1/2 cup white wine

7-8 cups chicken stock

1/4 teaspoon hot pepper flakes

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Parmesan cheese rind

-       Over medium heat, preheat oil in a heavy-bottomed soup pot.

-       Add the kielbasa, and sauté until browned

-       Remove kielbasa, drain, and set aside.  Drain fat from the soup pot, leaving 2 tablespoons in the pan

-       Add onions, carrots, and celery.  Sauté for 10 minutes, seasoning with salt, pepper, and hot pepper flakes.

-       Add garlic, rosemary, and potato.  Sauté for 1-2 minutes.

-       Add white wine, and let reduce by half.

-       Add chicken stock and Parmesan cheese rind, and bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally, for about 15-20 minutes, or until potatoes are tender.

-       Add white beans, and simmer for 5 minutes to heat through.

-       Set aside cheese rind, and using an immersion blender, blend the soup, leaving some chunks, but breaking up some of the beans.  Add cheese rind back into soup.

-       And the kale and kielbasa, and cook until kale is tender, about 5 minutes.

-       Serve and garnish with Parmesan, if desired.

Chopped Salad

Sometimes, I steal recipes.  This can happen in a completely innocent way.  For example, I may be perusing a cookbook or cooking magazine in a bookstore, and I stumble upon an enticing photograph or recipe.  The idea may simply stick with me, and lead to my own version of the aforementioned image, visual or verbal.  My previous post is prime example of this borrowed creativity.  I saw an idea that I liked, and put my own spin on it.  Other times, it is a little more malicious.  I might, say, take a picture of a photograph, or quickly type up a note on my phone, documenting a simplified version of a printed recipe.  Admittedly, this is sort of awful of me. 

This past weekend, I engaged in the latter type of activity.  I saw a recipe for the loveliest chopped salad, with two types of cabbage, fennel, olives, chicken, and an oregano vinaigrette.  Hunkered down on the floor of Barnes and Noble, tucked in an unassuming aisle, I jotted down a list of ingredients on my phone, and a few notes on the vinaigrette, while occasionally taking a nervous glance over my shoulder.  “I will make it my own,” I told myself, trying to rationalize my inappropriate behavior.  I had spent over an hour looking at the cookbook from which I stole the recipe.  There were quite a few additional recipes that caught my eye, but I only stole one.  Later that evening, I found myself wishing my notes on the vinaigrette were more thorough, but I figured that served me right, and I was not even feeling the proper kind of remorse, given the crime. 

The next day, I went back to Barnes and Noble on an unrelated errand.  As I was getting ready to leave my apartment, I suddenly realized I would get another opportunity to take a look at the now fuzzy vinaigrette assembly; I found myself involuntarily picking up the pace in excitement over spending a little more time with the cookbook.  I took care of my first task; I immediately sidled up to the cookbook section, and then blew another hour sitting cross-legged on the floor, with the cookbook nestled in my lap.  I suddenly heard a voice in my head, saying “BUY THE COOKBOOK.”  It was as if I became Pluto in an old Disney cartoon, and a mini-me angel tapped me on the shoulder, guiding me towards the right thing.  And I am now engaging in a bold-faced confession, hoping that it will entitle me to blog about the recipe with a (sort of) clean conscience.

Seriously though, in spite of my questionable moral compass, this chopped salad is very tasty.  I am not a big salad eater; they tend to be too crunchy and not rich or savory enough.  With that being said, I’ve got to hand it to Jeanne Kelley, author of SaladFor Dinner because her book truly lives up to its title.  She takes a genre of food known for leaving diners wanting more, and renders it worthy of calling it a satisfying dinner.  Her recipes, categorized by their protein, are all well-rounded, full flavored, and filling meals.  Granted I have only made this Chopped Salad, but I can tell that there are quite a few other recipes that will live up to its prowess.

Now about this Chopped Salad… it’s utterly divine.  Crunchy green and red cabbage, sweet fennel, and red onion are offset by the heartiness of plenty of shredded chicken breast, all kissed with a bright Oregano Vinaigrette.  This strong foundation is then highlighted by a wide array of salty, savory morsels, that elevate it from a glorified slaw into a balanced and thoughtful main dish.  Briny green olives and peppery parley leaves run throughout the salad.  And as if that weren’t enough, the salad is then garnished with feta and prosciutto (I know, it makes me swoon, too). 

When I initially read the recipe, I thought, “Why green olives?  Why not Kalamata?”  Shopping for the meal, I even paused at the olive bar, eyes darting between the bins of green Mt. Athos olives and Kalamata, questioning what I felt to be an otherwise brilliant recipe.  I made a last minute swerve to the left, and counted out my 10 green olives, upped from Kelley’s six.  I’m willing to defend my choice on this particular judgment call, but I have to say that the Kalamatas would have been a grave mistake.  The color and the firm texture alone make green olives worth their salt in this context, and I think the brinier, milder flavor is the perfect compliment.  As for the prosciutto and feta, I’m pretty sure those two ingredients speak for themselves, and  they truly yield a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. 

Another strong selling point for the delectable Chopped Salad is that is one of the few in the history of salads that actually holds up as a decent leftover, and that is because it made with cabbage instead of lettuce or baby greens.  Tossed in dressing, it retained its immaculate crunch over a couple of days, only deepening in flavor.  I kept the prosciutto and feta separate (they were a garnish, after all).  Please note, I did not add any salt to this recipe, besides in the preparation of the dressing and the chicken.  The smorgasbord of salty flavors is adequate without actually salting the dish.  My favorite salty element?  The prosciutto, no question.  The sweet, meaty flavor and toothsome texture definitely add a certain “je ne sais quoi,” and the color is the icing on the cake.  The recipe written below is true to how I made it, including a few minor tweaks that veered slightly from the original text; however, I stuck to Kelley’s overall vision because she gave me no reason not to. 

Chopped Salad (slightly adapted from Jean Kelley’s Salad forDinner):

Serves 4

3-4 cups very thinly sliced green cabbage

2-3 cups very thinly sliced red cabbage

12 ounces shredded cooked chicken breast (cooked in the same way at the previous post)

1 fennel bulb, trimmed and very thinly sliced (about 1 cup)

1/4 cup red onion, very thinly sliced, tossed with a few tablespoons of fresh lemon juice

1/2 cup fresh Italian parsley leaves

10 good quality green olives, pitted and chopped

3 ounces thinly sliced prosciutto, torn into pieces

4 ounces feta, crumbled

Oregano Vinaigrette

3 tablespoons red wine vinegar

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon dried oregano, crumbled

2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper

1 garlic clove, lightly smashed

1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

Whisk all ingredients for vinaigrette together except oil and garlic.  Gradually whisk in oil.  Add garlic clove, and allow dressing to sit for 30 minutes.  Allow garlic clove to continue sitting in dressing, but don't eat it.

In a large bowl, combine both cabbages, fennel, onion, parsley, olives, and chicken.  Add enough Oregano Vinaigrette to lightly coat, and toss well.  

Divide salad on dinner plates and garnish with prosciutto and feta, and an additional drizzle of vinaigrette and freshly ground black pepper.

Braised Pork Chops

It has recently been brought to my attention that I have not written to a new blog post since early August.  I have been really busy since August, starting a new school year, and then promptly switching to an entirely new school district a month later.  This transition has taken a fairly significant toll on me; however, despite any excuses I may have, the idea of a three-month absence from my blog honestly makes me wince.  A blog is not a static creature; it only exists for as long as it is actually being written, and mine was coming dangerously close to extinction.  The longer I went without writing, that more difficult it was to even consider making time for it.  Alas, I am sitting in front of my computer, with my proverbial tail between my legs, with the offering of some humble pork chops to my audience (assuming I still have one).  This is my first prolonged absence (and probably not my last), but hopefully this post bring a resurgence of cooking and blogging in my life.  At the very least, it brought some braised pork chops into my kitchen.

The weather is getting colder and days darker, and this is truly my favorite time of year to cook.  Soups, braises, baked pastas, and roasted vegetables are perfect for the winter months, and these are the recipes that resonate with me.  I don’t believe there is a pork chop recipe to date on my blog, so I thought I would expand my horizons, but do so with one of my favorite and familiar cooking methods: braising.  First, I seared the pork chops.  The key is to let them get really brown; make sure the pan is hot and let them sear, undisturbed, for about 5 minutes on each side.  There may even be a few wisps of smoke.  Then I let them simmer in tomatoes and white wine, with capers and herbs.  I don’t make a lot of pork chops, but in general, bone-in cuts result in more flavor, so I went with bone-in, center cut pork chops, and they were even better than expected.  I used fresh thyme, but I think any combination of herbs would work (dried or fresh).  Despite the fact that it is November, my outdoor thyme plant is thriving on my balcony, so I am taking advantage of it while I still can.  Lately, I’ve been cooking the simplest things possible, mostly on the grill to minimize dishes.   I’ve been avoiding anything more involved, but cooking and writing about these pork chops felt like a relief.  I also made some lemon-thyme couscous, which seemed right at home with the tomatoey sauce.  And I made some roasted broccoli as well because I can’t seem to get enough of it lately, but sautéed spinach would have been another perfect accompaniment. 

Braised Pork Chops with Capers, Tomatoes, and Thyme

1/2 tablespoon butter

1/2 tablespoon olive oil

salt and pepper

1/4 teaspoon hot pepper flakes (optional)

1 lb. pork chops (center cut, bone-in.  This amount of sauce could handle one to one and half pounds)

1 small red onion, sliced

2 garlic cloves, sliced

2 tablespoons tomato paste

2-3 teaspoons fresh thyme, plus extra for garnish

1 cup white wine

1 14 oz. can diced tomatoes

2 tablespoons capers

1 teaspoons red wine vinegar or lemon juice

Freshly chopped parsley for garnish (optional)

-       Season pork chops liberally with salt and freshly group black pepper

-       In a large sauté pan, heat olive oil over medium high heat, for 4-5 minutes, until lightly smoking, and add the butter.  Stir to combine.

-       Add pork chops in a single layer or in batches (do no crowd them, or move them around to allow them to brown for about 5 minutes per side).  Remove browned pork chops from pan and set aside.

-       Add onions, season with salt and pepper, and hot pepper flakes, if using (add another teaspoon of oil if the pan looks dry), and sauté and stir frequently for 8-10 minutes until they are softened but not browned.

-       Add tomato paste, garlic, and thyme and sauté, stirring constantly, for about 1 minute. 

-       Add white wine, bring to a boil and add canned tomatoes.  Allow mixture to boil for about 5-8 minutes so it reduces slightly (by about a 1/4-1/3)

-       Add capers to the mixture, then return the pork chops to the pan.

-       Reduce the heat to medium (so the mixture is simmering, but not aggressively boiling), cover the pan, but leave the lid vented so that steam can escape.

-       Allow to cook for about 15 minutes, flipping pork chops every 5 minutes.

-       Finish with lemon juice or vinegar; serve with lemon-thyme couscous

Lemon Thyme Couscous

1 cup reduced sodium chicken stock

2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves

Zest of 1 lemon

3/4 cup of couscous

2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice

2 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil

Salt and pepper

-       Add chicken stock, thyme, and lemon zest to a small pan and bring to a boil.

-       Add couscous, turn off heat and cover.  Let stand for 5 minutes until all liquid is absorbed.

-       Fluff with a fork and season with lemon juice, olive oil, and salt/pepper.

Black Bean and Chorizo Soup with Quesadillas

Lately, I’ve been in a creative rut, both in the kitchen and in my life, in general.  Sometimes, it just seems like I’ve reached my limit in concocting creative ways to eat, or how to trick the kids I work with into doing what they need to do without being miserable.  Play-Doh only goes so far.  Lately, even my breakfasts and lunches seem like a drag, and I just feel cheated when I don’t enjoy a meal.  So much of the day is arduous, and a good meal can be so uplifting in the midst.  When the turkey wrap that you usually love bores you to tears, it’s time to change something.  I keep lists upon lists of recipes that I want to make, and I scoured them thoroughly for something inspiring: something affordable, foolproof, delicious, and something yielding leftovers that would revive my spirits at lunchtime. 

 

Luckily, I tapped into my Epicurious recipe box sooner, rather than later on my hunt, and found a recipe I had recently filed away, and forgotten about:  black bean and chorizo soup.  This soup could definitely be classified under the “quick and easy” category.  Given my current state of affairs, I was in no mood for messing with dried beans or anything complex.  This soup lacks complexity, but it is loaded with flavor.  Black beans, Spanish chorizo, bell pepper, and cumin swim together in chicken broth until they all become good friends.  This is not exactly a controversial combination.  I will refrain from expressing my deep love of black beans to you, because I know that rant must be getting a little tired, but I do love them so.  And, unless you have something against pork or meat in general, chorizo never hurt anything, especially if you are fan of all things salty and spicy, and not adverse to the richness you can only get from pork fat, a gift from the gods.  Most importantly, I felt that soup might just cure my lunchtime blues.  As this idea was brewing, I realized the soup needed a co-star, and as fate would have it, I had an abundance of wheat tortillas loitering in my fridge.  They usually would find their way into a turkey wrap for my lunch, but instead, they became the vehicle for white cheddar and green chile quesadillas.  Between the soup, the quesadillas, and the power of good leftovers, I began to look forward to lunchtime again, and all was right with the world.

 

Below, you will find the recipe, with my adaptations.  However, if you do not share my affinity for spiciness, you may want to cut back on the red pepper flakes.  You can always add more later, and the chorizo will automatically bring some heat.  Chorizo will also add salt, so be weary of that, as well.  Other than that, this recipe is utterly foolproof, and manages to get a little bit tastier every day.

Black Bean and Chorizo Soup with Quesadillas (soup recipe adapted from Epicurious.com)    

4-5 oz. Spanish chorizo (spicy cured pork sausage), coarsely chopped

1 medium onion, chopped

1 large garlic clove, finely chopped

1 green bell pepper, chopped

½ red bell pepper, chopped

1 teaspoon dried hot red pepper flakes

2 teaspoon ground cumin

¼ teaspoon salt

1-2 teaspoons olive oil

2 ½ cups reduced-sodium chicken broth

2 (15 oz.) cans black beans, rinsed and drained

½ pound shredded white cheddar cheese

Fresh cilantro leaves

1-4oz. whole green chiles, drained, and torn into large pieces

4 large whole-wheat tortillas

·      Cook chorizo, onion, garlic, and bell peppers in oil in a soup pot over moderate heat, stirring, until vegetables are softened, about 10 minutes.

·      Add cumin, hot pepper flakes, and salt.  Stir to combine.

·      Add broth and beans, and reduce heat to a simmer.  Cook, partially covered and stirring occasionally, for 15-20 minutes.

·      While soup cooks, assemble quesadillas: on half of a tortilla, layer ¼ of the cheese, green chiles, and cilantro to taste.  Fold in half and set aside. 

·      Proceed until you have four quesadillas.

·      Preheat a non-stick pan over medium-high heat.  Add a drizzle of olive oil, and add one quesadilla at a time (unless you can fit two), and cook until the tortilla is golden, and the cheese is melted.

·      Proceed with remaining quesadillas, and cut into wedges.

·      Serve soup garnished with cilantro, and quesadillas on the side.

Mapo Tofu

People say, “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” and my blogging hiatus has definitely increased my affinity for my corner of cyber space, and cooking, in general. People also say, “you want what you can’t have,” and during my functional break from my right hand, all I wanted to do was cook.  And I couldn’t.  So, as I started to see some progress with my burn, I began to plot.  Regardless of the diminishing pain, I knew the bandage would impede me from effective chopping, just as it impeded me from so many other things.  So I searched for a recipe that would satiate my need to cook and blog, but also placed little demands upon my right hand.  The recipe that fit these stipulations arrived in the form of mapo tofu, a spicy Chinese dish consisting of soft tofu and minced pork. 

That’s right, I said it: tofu and pork, happy together.  For us Americans, who generally view tofu as a health food, and a vegetarian mainstay, this may sound a little sacra-religious.  However, mapo tofu is a traditional Szechuan dish.  I think it’s genius: the smooth, tender tofu gets a flavor boost from the richness of a little ground pork.  It’s spicy; it’s garlicky; and the ingredients for this particular version are available at the regular grocery store, without costing a fortune.  Chopping requirements are as follows: minced garlic and ginger; chopped tofu; chopped scallions.  As far as my bum hand was concerned, I decided that grating the ginger and garlic (see photo below) with my left hand was feasible, and I CAREFULLY did some left-handed knife work on the scallions and tofu, with minor assistance from my right thumb.  To be honest, I’m pretty impressed with my impromptu lefty knife skills (however, I will not disclose how long those scallions took me).  Even more impressive, the authorities at the burn clinic gave me permission to let my burned hand see sunlight only 14 hours after my mapo tofu experience.  There’s only one explanation: cooking cures all (of course, as long you avoid metal that has been roasting in the oven).     

Now for the bad news:  I wasn’t exactly thrilled with my mapo that first night.  It satiated my cooking desires, but not my taste buds.  I primarily blame this on the fact that I absentmindedly ate Chinese food the night before, because I ended up enjoying the leftovers.  Initially, I wanted to serve this with brown rice, but I went with white rice due to time constraints.  That was a lucky choice because mapo tofu with brown rice would have resulted in a big bowl of beige, and beige is not appetizing.  White rice provides the necessary contrast for aesthetic appeal.  Overall, if you are looking to dabble in Asian cooking, this is nice starting point.  According to the author of this recipe, vegetables or ground turkey can be substituted for the pork.  Regardless of this, I would recommend reducing the sesame oil to ½ teaspoon for balanced flavor.    

Mapo Tofu (loosely adapted from “No Recipes”)

Serves 3-4

1 tablespoon tamari or other good soy sauce

2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar

2 tablespoons oyster sauce


2-3 teaspoons Sriracha [I used at least 3]

1 teaspoon sesame oil
[This was a little strong: I’d recommend ½ teaspoon.  You can always add more]

1 teaspoon corn starch


¼ cup water

1 teaspoon canola oil [or other light colored oil]

2 cloves of garlic, grated

1 tablespoon of fresh ginger, grated

6 scallions, sliced thin

½  lbs. ground pork [note: the original recipe permitted pretty much anything as a substitute from vegetables to ground turkey)

1 package silken tofu, cut into ½ inch cubes [the package I used was 19 oz.]

½ to ¾ cup frozen peas [they don’t have to be thawed]

§  Mix the first group of ingredients in a bowl to make the sauce. Adjust seasonings as you see fit.

§  Preheat oil in a sauté pan over medium-high heat.  Once it’s hot, sauté garlic, ginger, and scallions for about 30 seconds.

§  Add the ground pork, and break it up with a wooden spoon. When the meat is cooked, drain off any excess oil [this takes some time: carefully pour off what you can, and use paper towels to blot up the rest].

§  Add sauce mixture.  Stir to combine, then add the tofu and peas. If the sauce seems thick, add some water and cook until the tofu is heated through.  Handle the mixture gently so you don’t mash up the tofu.

§  Serve with white rice, and extra Sriracha, if desired.