Spicy Chicken Soup with Greens and Shiitake Mushrooms

This soup has all of the best things in it:  shiitake mushrooms, leafy greens, and enough fresh ginger to kill a small horse.  Allergies and springtime colds seem to be plaguing a lot of people these days, and this soup is quite the sinus clearer, with a multi-faceted heat from copious amounts of fresh ginger and cayenne pepper.  This is a simple and quick-cooking Asian chicken soup that is both light and satisfying.  It is largely flavored with cayenne, fresh ginger, and shiitake mushrooms, which are some of the all time greatest in the history of mushrooms.  My soup is a slight variation off a recipe from Bon Appetit.  One important distinction that I made was to roast boneless skinless chicken instead of picking a rotisserie chicken.  This is more economical, allows for greater quality control, and ultimately, less work.  Picking an entire chicken from the bones is a greasy and time-consuming task, and you don’t really know what the story is behind that chicken.  See here for my easy method for roasting the chicken; then allow it to cool, and shred it.  Unless you are opposed to turning on your oven, this is much less work.  The other change I made, which is more important and came by recommendation of a friend, is to use chard instead of spinach.  It has more backbone that spinach, yet it is milder than kale, and it ultimately results in a tender, mild green that doesn’t disintegrate or destroy your mouth with tannic weaponry, like spinach.  This opposition to spinach may be mine alone, but I still urge you to try the chard. 

Another note about my interpretation versus the written recipe: I accidently used approximately 10 times the amount of ginger the recipe called for, and it turned out to be a happy accident.  Looking at the recipe, I was so confused to see it call for an 11” piece of ginger, peeled and chopped.  It seemed sort of excessive, but I’m an excessive person.  So, I went for it; I wasn’t exactly sure how to pick out an 11” piece of ginger, but I chose a decent sized hand, and it ended up being about a third of a cup of peeled, chopped ginger.  Writing this up, I realized that it was actually 1-1” inch piece of ginger (i.e. a single one inch piece, not an eleven inch piece).  I didn’t exactly measure out eleven inches of ginger, but I definitely used A LOT, and I liked it, especially on day two after it had a minute to infuse and marinate.  If you choose to make this recipe, your ginger quotient is entirely up to you, but know that one third of a cup will not harm you.

This soup is also spiced up with cayenne pepper, which can be such a fickle spice.  Well, it is really not fickle at all; in fact it a pretty consistent pattern on my palette, but I’m curious to see if other people have the same experience.  I find cayenne to be entirely heat-activated, as opposed to red chile flakes, which render spice regardless of temperature.  For example, with this soup, until the cayenne steeped in the hot soup, I couldn’t feel the heat.  Even with the leftovers, if I had a bite cold (no, cold, broth-based soup is not beneath me), it was barely spicy, simply perfumed by ginger.  When I reheated it, it had quite the resounding warmth.  While I think it is completely plausible for thermal heat to augment spicy heat, I find it peculiar that the chilled version tastes mild.  Is it me?  Is there something wrong with me?  Well, yes, there’s absolutely something wrong with me, but I’m unsure of whether this is operative example. 

 On the first night, I made the egregious mistake of not finishing my bowl with a squeeze of fresh time.  It was sheer laziness; apparently it can be quite challenging for me to cut a lime into quarters.  On the second night I ate this, and those following it, it was more than worth the 2 knife strokes to brighten up my dinner with a splash of green sunshine.  In the life of this soup, that is the precise function of fresh lime juice.  I would also recommend a drizzle of Bragg’s liquid aminos, as it rounded out the flavors nicely.

Spicy Chicken Soup with Ginger, Shiitakes, and Chard

1-1 1/2 pounds boneless skinless chicken (I used a combination of white and dark meat)

2-3 tablespoon olive oil

1 medium onion, thinly sliced

1/2 pound sliced shiitake mushrooms, stems discarded

4 garlic cloves, finely chopped

1 1" piece ginger, peeled, chopped (or in my world, 11 inches of ginger)

2 quarts low-sodium chicken broth

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 bunch green chard, coarsely chopped

Kosher salt, freshly ground pepper

Lime wedges and Bragg’s liquid aminos or soy sauce (for serving)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Drizzle the chicken with a little oil, and season with salt and pepper on a sheet pan.  Roast for 20 minutes, or just cooked through.

Heat the remaining oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add onion, season with a little salt, and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and golden, 8– 10 minutes.

Add mushrooms, and sauté for about 3 minutes.

Then garlic and ginger and cook, stirring often, 2 minutes; season with salt and pepper.

Add shredded chicken, broth, and cayenne and bring to a boil.

Add chard and cook for about 5-10 more minutes.

Garnish soup in bowls with Bragg’s and a squeeze of fresh lime.

Sick Day

It finally happened: I got sick.  After over a month of visitors and traveling, I suppose it was inevitable.  Although I would have preferred to not be sick, the timing worked out relatively well.  We have officially entered the schizophrenia season in Colorado, where the weather hovers in the 55-75 degree range, with sunny skies, punctuated the occasional snowstorm.  My sick day coincided with a well-timed gray, snowy day; I hunkered down, clad in sweat pants and wool socks, and had a long, leisurely day on the coach watching the entire second season of HBO’s “Girls.”  After the first few episodes and some dozing, I became hungry.  So I took some Advil and bundled up, in order to venture to Trader Joe’s for some easy to prepare, yet tasty, sick day foods.

My first sick day food endeavor supplied a late lunch and plenty of leftovers.  I was still feeling achy and chilled at this point, so I made the lowest maintenance soup I could imagine; I’m ever so eloquently dubbing it “Dump and Stew Tortellini Soup.”  It requires absolutely no chopping, but rather, it is a series of store-bought ingredients that need only to be opened, and dumped into a soup pot.  I started with 6 cups organic, reduced sodium chicken stock, a small can of diced tomatoes, 2 bay leaves, a quarter teaspoon cayenne pepper, and 6 whole garlic cloves (lightly smashed in order to remove the peel).  I allowed all of this to simmer over medium heat for about 45 minutes, and then I added a package of cheese tortellini from the refrigerator case, and allowed them to simmer for about 8 minutes, per package directions.  I then ladled the soup over a few handfuls of raw baby spinach, and allowed the heat of the soup to wilt the greens.  You could add it directly to the soup pot, but I prefer to add it to each individual serving so it doesn’t get overcooked.  I then added a sprinkle of Parmesan and a dollop of store bought pesto.  It couldn’t have been easier, and it certainly soothed my achy bones.  The garlic and the cayenne are key for curative properties, and to ensure that you actually taste some something in a congested state.  I recommend eating the garlic cloves; they mellow out a lot while cooking, and practically dissolve in your mouth after all of that cooking.  I would also like to note that Trader Joe’s Organic Low-Sodium Chicken Stock is my new favorite, regarding this genre.  At $1.99 a quart, the price is nothing to sneer at, and it actually tastes like chicken (roast chicken, to be exact), with a rich, brown color.

After about 6 more episodes of “Girls,” I was getting hungry again, and I whipped up a naan pizza in the toaster oven.  Again, most ingredients were courtesy of Trader Joe’s, along with some lingering morsels I had in my refrigerator.  The naan comes frozen, so while I let a piece defrost, I browned a pre-cooked garlic-herb chicken sausage link in a small sauté pan, to allow the casing to blister and the meat to heat through before slicing it into rounds.  I smeared the naan with pizza sauce, augmented with a few teaspoons of sriracha, again for decongestive purposes.  Then I added some Parmesan, a few sliced kalamata olives, and some toasted pine nuts.  I seasoned the pizza with dried oregano, ground pepper, and garlic salt before finishing it off with chicken sausage and shredded mozzarella.  I then put my gorgeous pizza in my toaster oven at about 375 for about 10 minutes, until the cheese was melted and bubbly (oven for the first 7-8 minutes, and broil for the last two).  Put it directly on the rack (no pan or foil necessary), so that the bottom crisps.  It was delicious, hearty, satisfying, and delightfully easy.  The most challenging part of the preparation was slicing the browned up chicken sausage, which wasn’t exactly an insurmountable feat. 

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.

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.

Spring Minestrone with Mini Chicken Meatballs

I saw this recipe in the April issue of Bon Appétit and immediately had to make it. Who can resist a teeny tiny meatball?  This soup is loaded with lovely spring flavors and vegetables.  It’s truly a perfect springtime recipe as it allows you to keep your foot in the door of two seasons simultaneously.  The carrots, leeks, and basil make the soup feel sunny and light; they are reminiscent of increasing day light and warmth; however, the steamy, brothy soup and the heartiness of the meatballs make good use of the lingering coolness.  Soon the mere idea of soup will be abhorrent to us as temperatures and humidity rises, so it’s best to take advantage of good soup-making conditions. 

I may be taking this analysis a bit far, but seriously, the soup is worth your while. This simple soup consists of tiny chicken meatballs floating in a broth amidst carrots, leeks, spinach, pasta, and garnished with Parmesan cheese and fresh basil.  The garnishes here are mandatory.  Making meatballs is so much fun, and these have a twist in that they are made with chicken breast and loaded with chives (and parmesan cheese, of course).  Usually, when meatballs are in soup, they are poached in the broth.  Here, they are first browned, and then finished in the broth.  This gives the meatballs more flavor because the meat is caramelized; this gives the soup more flavor because you make the soup in the same pot the meatballs are browned in, making good use of any lingering browned up meatball bits (it truly makes a big difference in the flavor, and allows for fewer dishes).  The browning of the meatballs will impact the pure spherical shape of the meatballs, but the increased flavor is worth this small aesthetic sacrifice.    

As this soup is called “minestrone,” it has pasta in it.  You could add an extra cup or two of water and cook the pasta directly in the soup.  Rather, I recommend cooking it in a small, separate pot and adding it to each bowl.  Pasta can absorb unpredictable amounts of liquid, and cooking the pasta in the soup may leave you without limited broth and mushy pasta in its absence.  This soup is a little labor intensive and is best for leisurely Sunday afternoon cooking.  Meatballs construction is time-consuming, but worthwhile process.

Spring Minestrone with Mini Chicken Meatballs (adapted from Bon Appétit Magazine, April 2012)

8 ounces ground chicken breast

½ cup breadcrumbs (I used panko)

6 tablespoons finely grated Parmesan, divided, plus more for garnish

3 garlic cloves, 1 grated, 2 thinly sliced

2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives

1 large egg, whisked to blend

Kosher salt, freshly ground pepper

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

2 leeks, white and pale-green parts only, sliced into 1/4" rounds

6 cups low-sodium chicken broth

½ cup stelline pasta, or other small pasta (elbow macaroni, ditalini)

1 ½ cups ½" rounds peeled carrots (4-5 small carrots)

1 cup (packed) baby spinach

Chopped fresh basil

-      Mix breadcrumbs, 3 tablespoons Parmesan, 1 grated garlic clove, chives, egg, ¾ teaspoon salt, and ¼ teaspoon pepper in a medium bowl.  Then add ground chicken and mix until combined.  Form into ½ inch diameter meatballs (makes about 28). (It may help to have a small bowl of water nearby to keep your fingers moist while forming the meatballs.  This reduces the sticky factor of the raw chicken)

-      Heat oil in a soup pot over medium heat. Cook meatballs until golden all over, about 3 minutes (they will finish cooking in soup). Transfer to a plate; set aside.  Make sure to do this in 2 batches so you don't crowd the pan.  (Also, resist the urge to eat those meatballs once they come out of the pot.  As delicious as they look, they're still raw in the middle.  I had to remind myself of this repeatedly.)

-      Meanwhile, bring a separate pot of water to boil and cook the pasta until al dente.  Drain and set aside.

-      Add leeks to pot and cook, stirring often, until beginning to soften, about 3 minutes. Add 2 thinly sliced garlic cloves; cook for 1 minute. Add broth and 1 cup water; bring to a boil. Stir in carrots; simmer until carrots begin to soften, about 5 minutes. Add meatballs; simmer until carrots are tender, and meatballs are cooked through, about 5-8 minutes. Add spinach and remaining 3 tablespoons Parmesan; stir until spinach is wilted and Parmesan is melted. Season with salt and pepper.

-      Ladle soup into bowls.  Add a couple of spoonfuls of pasta per bowl.  Garnish with chopped basil and Parmesan.

Thai Chicken Soup

I am on my first-ever paid winter break.  If you are feeling blood rush to your face in a fit of jealousy, take comfort in the fact that I am being punished for my brazen bragging with a terrible head cold.  Luckily, I have the time to take care of myself with good food, sleep, and daylong movie marathons.  Where I come from, chicken noodle soup is commonly known as “Jewish penicillin.”  The garlicky dish is said to have an anti-inflammatory effect.  In my case, I may require a course of actual penicillin, but I figure some chicken soup couldn’t hurt me.  The congestion has completely muted my sense of taste, so I decided to make it “Thai-style” to make it as flavorful as possible, and hoping that large quantities of ginger, chiles, and hot sauce would also provide some added health benefits.

Disclaimer: I doubt this soup can be considered authentic Thai food.  For one thing, I added about a cup of dry Italian white wine to the broth; I don’t think that is a common practice in Thai cooking.  I just happened to have it in the fridge, so it went in the pot.  I also happen to think fortifying soup with wine adds great flavor, but it is most definitely unauthentic and optional.  Nonetheless, I feel slightly justified in calling my soup “Thai” because I included the four tastes that give Thai food its distinctive flavor and balance: spicy (ginger and chiles), salty (fish sauce), sweet (sugar), and sour (fresh lime juice). 

To make this soup, I steeped canned chicken broth with garlic cloves, ginger, jalapeno, and fish sauce, while gently poaching chicken breasts in the simmering liquid.  You may want to eat around the garlic, etc. in the final product, or you may enjoy gnawing on a bit of ginger or garlic (maybe that’s just me).  I was a little disappointed by the spiciness that resulted from this process (or lack thereof), but a healthy dose of Sriracha quickly amended that problem.  I then removed the chicken to slice it up, and added carrots and scallions.  When the carrots were cooked through, I ladled the broth over rice noodles and chicken, and finished the bowl with limejuice and fresh cilantro. 

The soup was spicy enough to get through to my taste buds last night, but the flavor of it was so much more pronounced today.  And by pronounced, I mean heat, garlic, and ginger, ginger, ginger, tingling your tongue and throat, and the scent swirling around you. As is usually the case, this soup vastly matured and improved overnight. Today, I ate a huge mug of it without the noodles, and I preferred it noodle-free.  I want to make it again so I can taste the subtleties of the fish sauce and scallions, but overall this soup was a satisfying and restorative meal.   

Thai Chicken Noodle Soup (very loosely adapted from Jamie Oliver)

6 cups reduced-sodium chicken stock

2 cups water

1 cup white wine (optional, or add an extra cup of water/stock)

5 garlic cloves, peeled

2-3 inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and chopped into large chunks

1 jalapeno, sliced in half, some ribs and seeds removed

3 tablespoons fish sauce, divided

1 lb. boneless skinless chicken breast

2 carrots, peeled and sliced

4 scallions, chopped

1 teaspoon sugar

½ teaspoon Sriracha chili sauce (optional)

6 oz. rice stick noodles or to taste (this amount will give you generous portions for 4 bowls)

Fresh cilantro leaves

Lime wedges

Soy sauce or extra fish sauce to taste

-       In a large soup pot, add the broth, water, and wine (if using).  Turn the heat onto medium, and add the garlic cloves, ginger, jalapeno, and 2 tablespoons of fish sauce.  Once the mixture is simmering, add the chicken breasts.  Continue to simmer, stirring occasionally for 20-25 minutes, until chicken is cooked through.

-       Remove the chicken from the pot, and add the carrots, scallions, a tablespoon of fish sauce, sugar, and ½ teaspoon of Sriracha.

-       While carrots are cooking, thinly slice the chicken and soak rice noodles in hot water according to package directions.

-       When the broth is ready, place a portion of noodles and chicken in a bowl and add broth.  Top with a squeeze of lime and fresh cilantro leaves.  You may need a spoon and a fork for the noodles.  Add extra fish sauce or soy sauce, if desired.

Minestone

I handle periods of transition with the finesse of a baby tolerating a dirty diaper.  Under the best circumstances, I squirm and make faces to reflect my discomfort.  I may whine a little bit.  Depending on the severity of the situation, I feel compelled to burst into tears.  One would hope that my tolerance for change would increase with experience; this does not seem to be the case.  Under my critical observation, my improvements seem to be occurring at a rate that does not allow for functional changes. 

Currently, I am transitioning from the role of “life-long-student,” into the vastly unstructured environment of unemployment.  There are some advantages to this situation: free time, free time, free time.  There is also the dingy hope of an interview or better yet (gasp!) an actual job offer.  There are also some co-occurring problems: the highly pronounced anxiety that barges in when you don’t get the interview/job offer.  My coping strategy with these issues tends to involve falling back on comfortable, old routines, like cooking.  Alas, yet another soup recipe was born.

Minestrone is a time-honored tradition in my family, although I sort of took it in my own direction.  When I was little, I sort of dreaded it because of the presence of zucchini.  I would avoid the zucchini, and eat everything else I could, until my mom inevitably required that I finish it.  With a trembling hand, I would lift each spoonful of cold, neglected zucchini, and chew as quickly as possible to prevent gagging.

My “adult” palette has revised its opinion of zucchini, and I stand behind a firm recommendation of this soup.  This is a fairly traditional recipe, except that I included a good portion of tomato paste to give the broth a deep color and flavor.  I also cooked the pasta separately to prevent it from turning to mush, but this is matter of personal preference.  Overall, the soup was warm and comforting.  It had a round well-developed flavor from the garlic, herbs, and tomato paste.  Plus, it goes nicely with my favorite condiment: freshly grated Parmesan cheese.   I recommend the following progression:  cook the soup; drink a beer, eat a of soup bowl; drink another beer while eating another bowl; be happy.  But it’s just a suggestion (and please excuse the blurry photos).  

Minestrone

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 tablespoons butter

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 medium onion, diced

¼ teaspoon hot pepper flakes

Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

3 celery stalks, diced

3 carrots, diced

3 tablespoons tomato paste

1 teaspoon dried basil

½ teaspoon dried oregano

1 tablespoon dried parsley

1 medium red skin potato, diced

6 cups reduced sodium chicken stock

28 oz can diced tomatoes

1 can chick peas, drained and rinsed

2 small zucchinis, diced

Small cut pasta (cook separately)

Parmesan cheese for garnish

-       Preheat a soup pot over medium heat.  Add the olive oil and butter.

-       Once the butter melts, add onion, celery, carrot, and garlic.  Season with hot pepper flakes, salt, and pepper.  Sauté for 10 minutes, stirring frequently, until vegetables become soft and translucent.

-       Add the tomato paste, stirring frequently for two minutes, until very fragrant.

-       Add canned tomatoes, broth, chickpeas, potatoes, and remaining seasonings. 

-       Bring to a boil.  Reduce to a simmer, and cook for 30 minutes.

-       Taste and adjust seasonings.  Add zucchini and cook for ten more minutes.

-       Place cooked pasta in soup bowls and add soup.  Garnish with parmesan.  

Stracciatella

I actually do cook food other than soups, but somehow soup seems to be the only thing I am motivated to write about.  Soon, it will be too swelteringly hot in my apartment to make soup, so please bear with me.  Alas, I present you with one more soup recipe: straciatella.  The recipe is the result of highly impromptu cooking.  Straciatella is a combination of chicken noodle and egg drop soup with an Italian flair.  I have been thinking about making it for a bit.  When it crossed my mind again this morning, I realized I had almost all of the ingredients already, including these darling, teeny, tiny star shaped noodles.  I bought them over two months ago, and I have been stewing over the perfect recipe to utilize them in.  Every time I open my kitchen cabinet and lay eyes on them, I find myself sighing dreamily.  They are just that cute.  Straciatella was the perfect excuse to eat them by the heaping spoonful.

In brief, my straciatella is a broth-based soup with the aforementioned noodles.  Before serving, an egg beaten with parmesan cheese is streamed into the soup, creating tender cheesy, eggy strands thoughout the hot broth.  I added carrots to the soup to flavor to the canned broth, and to prevent monotonous texture.  I seasoned it with cayenne, dried parsley, and black pepper.  Yum.

Stracciatella:

 - Bring 5 cups reduced sodium chicken broth to a simmer, and add 2 diced carrots and 2 whole cloves of garlic.  Season broth with a healthy dash of cayenne pepper, freshly ground pepper, and a tablespoon of dried parsley.
 - Allow carrots to simmer for 10 minutes, or until they start to become tender.  Add a half cup stelline (star-shaped) pasta.  Allow soup to simmer until the pasta is tender.
 - In the meantime, beat together one egg and 1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese.  Season with black pepper.
 - When pasta and carrots are tender, reduce the heat until the soup is at a bare simmer.  Stir in egg mixture slowly so that strands of egg form.  Remove garlic cloves.  Garnish soup with extra parmesan and pepper, and enjoy.