A Kernel of Truth

One of the best things about late summer (aside from the slowly subsiding humidity) is what's available at the farmers market. Tomatoes are at their peak, peppers and chilies come in all shapes, colors, and sizes, and juicy peaches and stone fruits are everywhere. But best of all, mountains of corn—white, yellow and bi-color—bookend most of the market stalls. The sound of shoppers undressing cobs by sharply removing their husks can often be heard from across the street, and making your way through the crowd to the front of the line becomes a contact sport.

Needless to say, I've found myself among the excitable throngs of folks tearing away at corn on more than one occasion, and—I'm embarrassed to admit—with equal tenacity. The difference between myself and many of my fellow corn enthusiasts is what we do with our corn once we've procured it. Lacking a proper grill and being too much of a weenie to try smoking indoors (but I'm working on it), I've discovered the next best thing: roasting corn off the cob. It's easy, it's fast, it's versatile, and best of all, it comes with easy clean up.

Simply cut all of the kernels off the cob into a large bowl with a paring knife (it's the least messy way to do this). Toss the corn kernels with a little extra virgin olive oil and the seasonings of your choice (I like salt, pepper, and a pinch of cayenne and cumin), and spread out onto a foil-lined baking sheet. Pop the whole thing into a 350 degree oven and roast for 15-20 minutes until golden brown and charred on the ends. That's it. Use it in pasta dishes (see one pasta salad example here), as a stand alone side-dish, or my favorite, as the base for a soup. Because you've already seasoned your corn, all that's left to do is blend it with chicken or vegetable stock. If you know you'll be making soup ahead of time, throw an onion and a few garlic cloves into the oven with the corn for extra flavor. Top with a few reserved corn kernels, a spoonful of sour cream, and a sprinkle of your favorite fresh herb. A little lime on the side caps off a perfectly light and sweet late summer dinner. 

Roasted Corn Soup 

6 corn cobs, husked, kernels removed and reserved
1 small onion, peeled and quartered
3 garlic cloves (skins left on)
1½ Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
¼ tsp ground cumin
pinch of cayenne pepper
3-4 cups low sodium chicken or vegetable stock
salt
pepper

1. Preheat oven to 350˚F. Place corn kernels, olive oil, onion, garlic, olive oil, cumin and cayenne in a large bowl and toss to combine. Spread mixture out onto a foil lined baking sheet or roasting pan (this will make clean-up easier) and bake in the oven for 15-20 minutes, or until kernels are slightly browned on the edges.

2. Reserve ½ cup worth of the roasted corn for garnish and place the rest of the roasted mixture into a blender (reserve the garlic), or if using a hand blender, add the mixture to a pot. Squeeze the garlic out of its skin and into the mixture and discard papery skin.

3. Add enough stock to the mixture to cover, then blend to combine. Continue adding stock until your desired consistency is reached. Strain into a pot and reheat, or serve cold, topped with the reserved corn, sour cream, and cilantro. Enjoy!

-Laura

Springing Forward

                   

Although the last few days here in NYC have been punctuated by rain, they have fortunately for us all been encapsulated by a welcome parenthesis of warm weather. Sunny days are here again—briefly, no doubt—but that doesn't mean we haven't all immediately broken out our spring coats and fought a stranger for an outdoor seat. While the food may not have caught up with the seasons quite yet, I'm happy to say that I'm feeling the need to eat a bit lighter. Not healthier, per se, but certainly something that takes the weight of winter off my shoulders (if it also takes a little something off my hips along the way, all the better). Most winter produce doesn't really permit for much light cuisine, but there is one particular soup that is light in texture, and yet filling, with a handful of a great winter ingredient tossed in.

Escarole is often ignored because it's considered bitter, which of course it is, if eaten raw. But the funny thing about escarole is that even though we often treat it as a lettuce here in the states, it is in fact a winter green in the chicory family, much like its bitter cousin the endive. While it works well in mixed green salads, many with an Italian background may be more familiar with it as a cooking green. It's a wonderful ingredient for bridging the gap from winter to spring, when we're all looking to layoff off the heavy stews and move on to something bright and vernal. Escarole is a great transition ingredient, especially because it cooks up incredibly quickly. It's almost always ready before you think it is, and requires almost no extra liquid to wilt. It's bitterness melts away with a hint of garlic and lemon, almost lending it a sweet flavor.

I most commonly associate escarole with Italian wedding soup. With its light broth and buoyant, meaty little orbs, Italian wedding soup is a festival of protein (there's also egg cooked into the broth) that's wrapped up in a seemingly weightless package. The meatballs are cooked right in the broth, lending their meaty flavor to the base of the soup, and the escarole is tossed in at the last minute to avoid overcooking, right before the egg goes in. Everything about this soup is fast, the most time consuming portion being rolling the meatballs. The smaller the meatball, the easier they are to roll, and the faster they cook, so 1-1 1/4 inch meatballs (traditional size for this soup) are your best bet.

I try to use a low sodium broth for this whenever possible since you'll have salt and seasoning from the meatballs flavoring your broth, in addition to grated parmesan cheese. Freshly grated is a must here both for flavor and texture. This is also a great place to use your leftover parmesan rinds--just toss them into broth to cook away with the meatballs, and whatever hardened cheese is left will melt away into your soup (but make sure to remove any wax or paper on the outside of your rind--natural rinds are fine to throw in as is). Some recipes call for pasta, but it's certainly not a requirement. I often like to throw in a handful of something small, like a tiny pastina or even Israeli couscous if I'm looking to make something a little heartier. Kids love this soup and a handful of star shaped pasta certainly couldn't hurt. So if you feel like eating lighter as the days get longer, give this soup a try—you'll be surprised by how pleasantly full you'll feel.

Italian Wedding Soup

1/2 lb ground beef
1/2 lb ground pork
1/4 cup milk (soy is fine)
2 Tbsp seasoned breadcrumbs
2 Tbsp finely chopped parsley
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, divided
1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp onion powder
6 cups chicken stock
2 eggs, lightly beaten
6 cups escarole, washed and roughly chopped
salt

1. Bring stock to a boil and keep heated on low while you make the meatballs. In a bowl, combine beef, pork, milk, breadcrumbs, parsley, nutmeg, 1/2 tsp salt, garlic powder and onion powder with your hands until well mixed. Roll into 1- 1 1/4 inch balls and set aside.

2. Add meatballs to the hot stock and bring mixture to a low boil. Cook until meatballs are still soft but cooked through, about 5-7 minutes. Stir in Parmesan cheese and eggs and continue stirring until they are cooked and form long white threads, about 30 seconds. Add escarole and cook until just wilted. Taste soup for salt and add as necessary. Enjoy!

-Laura

I Am Iron, Man

Does anyone else feel like lentils don't get the attention they deserve? For some reason over the years they've become the Jan Brady of legumes, only popping up on menus alongside the occasional poached salmon or in a curried soup during the winter months. They remain ignored during the rest of the year, pushed to the back of the pantry, save for the possible summer lentil salad. Beans and chickpeas seem to benefit from the attention they get in purees and hummus, not to mention from being easily available (and affordable) in canned form. Lentils are best when made fresh, which has unfortunately put them on the opposite end of the spectrum from their more popular legume friends. They're seen by many as taking too long to make and requiring too much maintenance.

But the truth about lentils is that they're not nearly as fussy as many cookbooks would have you believe. The old adage that lentils must soak overnight in order to render them edible is completely false and often leads to mushy results. The overarching mother-of-all-lentil-myths however is that they need any help at all to cook relatively quickly. Many recipes suggest a cooking time of 45+ minutes which is absolutely ridiculous. Provided they are cooked properly (with plenty of water and a in a nice large pot to swim in), lentils should take no more than 30 minutes of cooking time, max. And don't even get me started on those delicious French green lentils. With their compact shape and gorgeous slate coloring, they cook up in 20-25 minutes, even in large batches. They hold their shape well and have a wonderful toothsome quality that make them perfect for any type of dish.

Knowing that the whole soaking-then-overcooking business is a sham, I've always had several varieties of lentils on hand in case of emergency. Because they're packed with iron and fiber, lentils provide great heart healthy energy and make a wonderful substitute for protein. I like a big bowl of lentil salad before evening exercise (like a late-night volleyball game) for that extra bit of energy that won't weigh me down. They're also great for folks like myself that are anemic and need all the extra iron they can get, but who don't want a steak for dinner every night.

As a kid I longed for visits to Spain and my grandmother's kitchen where the best lentil soup lived. True to the Spanish way of doing things it was chock full of smoked paprika, both the sweet and spicy variety, along with heaps of garlic, chunks of potato, chorizo and Spanish iberico ham. Like Goldilocks I've spent my adult days searching for the lentil soup that's "just right" but the truth is they're all too watery, too thick or just plain wrong. Not one of them holds a candle to hers, all of them lacking in either flavor or texture. So one night as I found my fridge empty of proteins and brimming with vegetables and bacon, I decided to challenge myself to recreating the soup at home. After all, why should I expect to find it anywhere else?

After a little noodling around with ingredients I managed to make it work. While I didn't have any chorizo on hand I still managed to capture the essence of the soup, including the spot on consistency. I used a neat little trick for thickening that you should definitely try if you'd like an alternative to a fatty (albeit delicious) roux. A mere tablespoon of breadcrumbs toasted in a few drops of olive oil will do the trick just as well, and without all that flour and butter. It's my favorite way to thicken soups and stews, and can even help with seasoning if your soup is a little bland (simply use seasoned breadcrumbs instead of plain). So I encourage everyone out there that's dubious about lentils to please give them a shot. Try buying smaller lentils like the French green variety that cook quickly and have a thinner skin. Despite being a tiny bit more costly than large brown lentils (which can be as cheap as 99 cents for a pound) they're still a relative bargain. I buy several pounds in bulk for less than 5 bucks and they last forever. This soup is a great introduction, and makes for unbelievable leftovers.

Spanish-Style Lentil Soup

1-1/2 cup French green lentils (or other small lentil)
6 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1/4 cup tomato puree or crushed tomatoes (not tomato paste)
3 small carrots, finely diced
1 small onion, finely diced
2 medium Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and chopped
4 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
3 strips thick-cut bacon, chopped
1 Tbsp smoked sweet paprika (pimentón)
1/2 Tbsp smoked hot paprika (pimentón picante)
1/4 tsp cumin
1 dried bay leaf
1 Tbsp breadcrumbs
1 Tbsp plus 1 tsp extra virgin olive oil
salt
pepper
Garnish: chopped parsley (optional)

1. Cook bacon in a large soup pot until crispy and browned. Remove to a paper towel covered plate to drain. Add onion, garlic and carrots to the pot along with a tablespoon of olive oil. Cook over medium-low heat until softened (not browned), then remove pot from heat and allow the mixture a few minutes to cool (this is necessary so the paprika doesn't burn--do not skip this step).

2. Add both types of paprika and the cumin to the pot and cook over low heat for 30 seconds, stirring frequently. Add stock, lentils, tomato puree, and the bay leaf to the pot and bring to a boil. Cook covered about 15 minutes (the lentils will only be half cooked), then add the potatoes. Cover and continue cooking another 10-15 minutes or until lentils are done and potatoes are tender.

3. Meanwhile, heat breadcrumbs and the remaining teaspoon olive oil in a small non-stick skillet and toast breadcrumbs until they are golden brown, tossing frequently to avoid burning. Once the lentils are done, add breadcrumbs to the soup and stir to combine. Allow the mixture 5 minutes to cook together and thicken, and served topped with fresh chopped parsley and crusty bread for dipping. Enjoy!

-Laura 

Great Expectations

If there's one thing that's not welcome in our home, it's carrots. Sure, I include them in all of my soups, stocks and stews, but generally they are met with resounding boos and guffaws and have on very rare occasion been the focal point of any meal (an event that only occurs when I'm home alone with no more culinary options than a fridge full of carrots and condiments). Disappointment at the mere speckling of carrots within a soup is enough to put a cloud over dinner, so I was more than shocked when my fella (long scarred by the frozen carrots and peas of childhood) suggested I use the abundance of carrots and ginger in our fridge to make a soup. Clearly my unemployed sulking period would be coming to an end if carrot soup were preferable to another night of take-out.
 
As a result I began to formulate a recipe that would appeal to even the most enthusiastic of carrot haters. It didn't help that while I don't hate carrots, I'm not particularly fond of ginger in large quantities. I decided to use my favorite carrot-tahini ginger dressing as inspiration. As one of the few food items that combines ingredients I don't normally care for and makes them delicious, this dressing doesn't completely mask the ingredients' flavors. It uses what's actually great about them (sweetness from the carrots, tart, lemony-freshness from the ginger) in order to compliment one another. The dressing is fresh and substantial and enhances the best parts of each ingredient for a resulting product that is the true sum of its parts (only better).
 
In keeping with the dressing's philosophy (the dressing, by the way, is from Dojo's) I started by sauteing the carrots and ginger with onions and garlic over low heat in order to pull out some of that sweet carrot flavor (without over caramelizing). Once I tossed everything in the blender I used chicken stock to help thin out the puree (vegetable stock would be lovely as well so long as it's not tomato based), along with freshly grated ginger, a splash of vinegar and a spoonful of sour cream for rich body. Not wanting to mask any flavors I was judicious in my use of spices, adding only a hint of smoked paprika, cumin and coriander to help the main ingredients' natural flavors pop. Once I'd gotten a nice smooth soup (relatively thin but not watery) I ran everything through a sieve. I would normally say this is optional, but ginger can be quite fibrous and woody and I've yet to encounter a blender that manages to break apart those fibers in any satisfying way.
 
The soup, it turns out, was a rousing success. It was not at all what I expected to be making, nor did I expect to enjoy it as much as I did. So much so that I'm proud to induct it into my winter recipe repertoire. It reminded me a great deal of my beloved dressing (available for purchase by the pint!), only better. In researching recipe ideas I found that carrot soups--even those from very reputable sources--often begin with carrot juice. I can't stress enough how important it is to use fresh carrots for this or any other carrot soup. Carrot juice is just that, raw carrots put through a juicer. There's no flavor development through cooking, meaning that the juice is not sweet or complex--it's like a bite out of a raw carrot in juice form. While this might explain why I've hated carrot soups in the past, it's also a good argument for what to do with all those winter carrots. Carrots are in top form this time of year, having used all that cold winter air and frigid soil to their advantage, concentrating their sweet flavor. They're always best in the weeks and months just before spring when they've put up with the coldest weather of the year. So if you're wondering how to best take advantage of this winter season, find yourself some organic carrots (roots like fresh ginger and galangal are also great in winter) and put them to good use. I suggest a soup or carrot dressing, but your favorite dish is good, too (anyone that likes sweet buttered carrots should be in heaven). Here's what I came up with:
 
Carrot-Ginger Soup
 
6 medium-sized carrots, peeled, trimmed and diced
1 small onion, peeled and chopped
2 small garlic cloves, roughly chopped
1 2-inch knob of ginger, peeled and chopped, plus 1 tsp freshly grated ginger
1/8 tsp smoked paprika
1/8 tsp ground cumin
1/4 tsp ground coriander seed
1-1/2 cups chicken or vegetable stock
2 Tbsp cider vinegar (anything but balsamic will do in a pinch)
1 Tbsp sour cream (low-fat is fine)
2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 Tbsp butter
salt
pepper
 
1. Saute carrots, onions, garlic and ginger in the olive oil and butter over low heat in a non-stick skillet (make sure nothing has developed too much color and that the garlic has not burned). Once the carrots are cooked through, add the mixture to your blender and allow a few minutes to cool.
 
2. Add the paprika, cumin, coriander and fresh ginger to the blender along with 1/2 cup of the stock. Blend the mixture, slowly adding stock 1/2 cup at a time until you reach your desired consistency (you can even add more or a splash of water if you need more liquid). Add the vinegar and sour cream and blend once more.
 
3. Run the mixture through a sieve into a soup pot and reheat. Cook covered over medium-low heat for 10 minutes, then taste for salt and pepper and season to taste (I like a lot of pepper). Serve garnished with chopped nuts (I like almonds or hazelnuts) or croutons. Enjoy! 
 
-Laura

Back to the Future

Now that I'm no longer stressing about Thanksgiving I can go back to focusing on making easy dinners. The holiday leftovers lasted for one long week despite how hard we tried to incorporate them into every single meal (including bag lunches). I think I've had more turkey in the last 8 days than I have in my entire life, and I'm not happy about it. I've never been a fan of turkey and even the delicious garlic-cream pasta with spinach that I made last week for dinner seemed to mind that I deigned to add in some leftover turkey. But now all that has passed and I'm ready to go back to cooking from scratch. Unfortunately, while I was in the fifth circle of leftover hell, the majority of late fall's appetizing seasonal ingredients seem to have disappeared from most farmers markets. Some brussels sprouts can be found lingering and there are still plenty of winter squashes to be had, but other than that I'm left mostly with tubers and roots, which is when I predictably turn to soups and stews. It's not completely hopeless (yet) for a seasonal locavore such as myself, but until my winter CSA starts up in two weeks, I'll have a little bit of a challenge.

One of the things I can always count on regardless of the season is my pantry, the one little cheat that I allow myself when what's is season just doesn't satisfy. Cannellini beans can most often be seen coming to my rescue. They're a great bit of added protein that can really pull together a meal if you have a few ingredients that still need a little "something". I had a big bag of carrots still going strong and a few turnips and potatoes that I knew I needed to be used soon. These ingredients wouldn't amount to much on their own since they're in the same flavor and texture range, but with the addition of a little texture and an injection of flavor, you could really make all of the ingredients sing harmoniously. In the way of texture I popped open two trusty cans of cannellini beans, which would bring in a creamy mouth-feel and a slight legume nuttiness that would contrast really nicely with the firm, potatoes and sweet carrots. For added flavor I browned up some spicy sausage that I knew had smoked paprika and cayenne pepper, which would also lend some color to the dish.

I originally thought of making a hash, but the thought of having to chop everything teeny tiny or grating all of those vegetables after a log day at work made me change my mind. Instead I decided I'd make a winter vegetable soup with sausage and serve it with a side of arugula salad. The most time consuming part was preparing the vegetables, but it really only took me about 20 minutes total to wash, peel and chop everything (I did a rough 1/2 inch dice on all veggies--it didn't really need to be too perfect). I don't like the way onions feel in soup but love the flavor, so I just quartered mine and sauteed them in extra virgin olive oil with two cloves of garlic (smashed) and all of the vegetables. Before anything browned I removed the onions and garlic and added in a few cups of chicken stock. While everything came up to a boil and the vegetables cooked in the chicken stock (and added flavor to it) I began to brown the sausage in a separate skillet. Once the vegetables were tender I added the sausage and the beans and let them cook at a low boil until warmed through. That's all it took and it was hearty without being heavy, and all of the fall/winter veggies played their part. You could do this easily with any of your favorite veggies, not to mention you could even toss in some greenery like spinach, chard or turnips greens (ooh, ooh, or kale, yeah, kale!). It's a great way to make use of veggies or beans, and you could even switch up the type of beans. Once I get my slow cooker under control (after the holidays) I hope to start cooking dry beans en masse so I can forgo the canned ones for a while. But for now, they're still my pantry saviors. Here's how to make this soup yourself:

Winter Veggie Soup

3 small carrots, peeled and roughly chopped
2 medium potatoes, peeled and roughly chopped
3 large or 5 small turnips, peeled and roughly chopped
1 onion, quartered
2 garlic cloves, crushed
2 cans of cannellini beans, rinsed
4 spicy sausages (like hot Italian, andouille or chorizo), casings removed
3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
8 low sodium cups chicken stock
salt
pepper

1. In a large pot, sweat onion and garlic in olive oil until slightly softened and fragrant, about 5 minutes. Add carrots, potatoes and turnips and sauté briefly (about 30 seconds) before removing onion and garlic from pan (you can discard them). Cover with stock and cook until vegetables are tender.

2. Meanwhile, brown sausage in a skillet and set aside. When the vegetables are cooked, add beans and sausage to the pot and cook on medium low until beans are heated through and the sausage has colored the soup (about 5 minutes). Serve and enjoy!

-Laura

Learning to Love: Fennel

I've always thought people were full of it when they said, "...you either love it or you hate it!" about pretty much anything. I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of people who aren't passionate either way about corn, Dancing with the Stars or leggings, among other things. But I finally realized that there was indeed one thing people really felt torn on: licorice. I have yet to meet anyone that shrugs their shoulders and says, 'eh' when asked if they like it (and if it's you, please let me know), instead always hearing proclamations of disgust or lust. I've always hated anything that tasted remotely of licorice, whether it was a jelly bean, sambuca or grilled fennel. But thanks to my CSA and the overall seasonal eating trend I've come face to face with fennel in more iterations than I care to remember. From cold fennel shooters to grilled fennel salad and fennel pollen dusted sweetbreads, try as I might to escape it each fall I can't, and last week it caught up with me in my CSA box. For once I hoped that I'd arrived too late, that all of the fennel had been taken by the licorice loving foodies of the group, but alas it seemed there was plenty left for me to experiment with. So I trotted home with it in my tote and began to wonder what I could possibly do with one of my most hated flavors.

I eventually settled on a soup since that was the one fennel flavored dish I had ever managed to enjoy. I looked back on the fennel soup I'd tasted almost exactly a year ago at Blue Hill at Stone Barns for inspiration. Our server had asked if there were any ingredients we did not like, and not wanting to limit the chef's creativity (even though I knew it was fennel season), we said no--we're open to anything. So imagine how far my heart sank when the first course to come out of the kitchen was a bowl of fennel soup. Much to my surprise it was pure white and velvety on the tongue with just the lightest air of fennel. It wasn't in-your-face fennel but its presence was definitely felt and tasted. Except for a handful of things (say...bacon or cheese) I generally feel that everything in moderation is a good mantra to follow and it seems like fennel is at its best when used in that way.

Armed with the memory of a soup I hadn't tasted in a year, I headed into the kitchen to make what I hoped would be a close approximation in both flavor and texture to the one at Blue Hill. In the end I decided that potato would be the perfect foil for softening the fennel's flavor and adding some body to the whole soup. I began by peeling and chopping the potatoes into fairly small chunks (so they take only 10-15 minutes to cook through) and then boiling them in salted water. Meanwhile I added 2 chopped scallions (for a mellow onion flavor), 2 roughly chopped garlic cloves and the chopped fennel to a non-stick skillet with two tablespoons of butter. I seasoned the mixture lightly with salt and let it sweat until everything was softened. Then I drained the potatoes, reserving 2 cups of the cooking liquid for thinning out the soup in the blender. Then I tossed the potatoes and the fennel mixture into the blender along with 1 cup of chicken stock to help it blend. Then I slowly added the warm cooking liquid until I got a silky smooth texture. It didn't even end up needing any salt or pepper, and it came together in about half an hour total. The soup wound up tasting exactly as I'd wanted. It was clearly a creamy fennel soup (with no actual cream), but the flavor was subtle and smooth. I can't say that I'm completely in love with fennel, but like so many things (Britney Spears, perhaps?) I've learned to live with it's existence, and even enjoy it in small doses. Here's the final recipe:

Creamy Fennel Soup

1 small fennel bulb, roughly chopped
2 green onions/scallions, chopped
2 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
2 large or 3 small Idaho potatoes, peeled and cut into chunks
2 Tbsp butter
1 cup chicken stock (non-tomato based veggie stock would work here too)

1. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add potatoes and cook until done, about 15 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, heat the butter in a non-stick skillet and cook garlic, green onions and fennel on medium low heat until softened, about 7 minutes. Season with salt while cooking

3. Drain the potatoes, reserving about 2 cups of the cooking liquid for the soup. Allow them a few minutes to cool, then add potatoes and fennel mixture to a blender along with the chicken stock. Puree and add reserved cooking liquid until the soup thins out to a velvety consistency. Taste for salt and serve topped with croutons or fennel fronds. Enjoy!

-Laura

Ajo Blanco

One of the best parts of summer is making a light dinner and avoiding the stove at all costs. Walking outside to grill or eat al fresco is rare in Manhattan, so anything we city dwellers can do to keep cool indoors is a welcome feat. The all-time easiest "no-cook" summer dish is gazpacho, the classic cold soup of southern Spain that requires nothing more than a blender and 10 minutes of free time. My mother is a big fan, ordering it every chance she gets when we're down by the Mediterranean. I'll be making it soon once my tomatoes come in, but in the meantime, I've made another great cold soup. Ajo blanco is a simple but delicious cold soup of garlic, almonds and bread. Much like gazpacho, all you need is a blender and a few minutes to whip everything up. If you're a perfectionist like me, you might strain it (and you really should, for the sake of texture), but otherwise it's not a very fussy dish despite how impressive it is in the end.

The ingredients may seem strange bedfellows, but the truth is that they work quite well together. The soup is interesting and complex, almost plain at first. But with all that raw garlic (for which the dish is named), the flavor slowly builds and intensifies with every spoonful, lending a certain heat as only raw garlic can. The almonds, which are fairly sweet by nature, impart a certain milky flavor that mellows out the garlic's heat ever so gently. A dash of sherry vinegar brings a little acidity to the party, and some olive oil and crustless bread round out the main ingredients and add some silkyness to the texture. Like many cold soups, ajo blanco is a perfect way to use up day-old or even stale bread. Just remember to remove the crusts and you're good to go. Otherwise, the only thing you need is some water, which helps the ingredients to blend and thins out the whole mixture.

I used a recipe that suggested letting the almonds soak overnight in water, which helps to draw out their natural milk. The milky soaking liquid is then used in the soup. Mine didn't soak overnight, but they did get a three hour long bath that definitely helped. I liked that it softened the almonds and made them easier to blend, but this step could certainly be omitted with equally delicious results (I have at previous times and it's been no problem at all). Likewise, you could always reduce the heat of the dish by omitting a few cloves of garlic if you're worried about scaring your date away. That's not to say that the flavor is overwhelming in general. Although it builds, there comes a point where it does plateau so you're not floored by garlic or heat. In the past I've also cut the whole thing with a teaspoon or two of honey, which is not at all traditional, but very tasty and a lovely contrast to the garlic and sherry vinegar. Here's the recipe with a few of my changes:

Ajo Blanco:
adapted from Made in Spain by Jose Andres

1 1/2 lbs blanched almonds (I used peeled, sliced almonds)
6 cups water
2 large or 3 small garlic cloves
1/3 cup sherry vinegar (use the best you can)
2 1/2 cups good extra virgin olive oil
3 slices rustic style bread, crusts removed
1 Tbsp chopped chives
pinch of salt

1. Place almonds in a bowl and cover with the 6 cups of water. Allow to soak overnight, or for as much time as you have.

2. Add garlic, almonds, soaking liquid, sherry vinegar, olive oil and bread to blender and puree until smooth. Run mixture through a fine mesh sieve or cheese cloth to remove any grit from the ground almonds.

3. Place mixture in a pitcher or bowl and refrigerate for 30 minutes. Stir in salt and serve garnished with olive oil, sherry vinegar and chopped chive. Enjoy!

-Laura

Stormy Weather

It figures that just as we began to see the true signs of spring and even the tiniest preview of summer, April showers reared their ugly head to help usher in May. While it's by no means cold here in New York, it does seem like we went from 80 degrees and sunny to rainy and dismal in no time at all. The dreary weekend weather may have put the kibosh on my traditional Saturday morning farmers market visit, but it also inspired me to create a comforting and light dish for those warmer, stormy days and nights of spring. As I've been researching healthy and delicious dishes this year, I've been reading a lot about veggie rich chicken soups that take advantage of spring's bounty, and I've been excitedly waiting for the season and its vegetables to catch up. So last night, after four straight days of rain, I knew it was time to put a recipe to the test.

In researching recipes the last few weeks, I kept coming across ajiaco, a chicken soup popular in Colombia that involves a delicious cilantro infused broth. Unfortunately for my waistline, it also involves heavy cream, a big bowl of white rice and a sack of potatoes. So, I decided it'd need a little lightening up. It's not quite corn season yet, so I couldn't include that in the recipe (as it traditionally requires), but you better believe once summer rolls around I'll have a summer-ready ajiaco recipe in my back pocket. But for now, I'll just call this an ajiaco inspired recipe so I don't get jumped by a pack of angry Colombian foodies. I decided to eliminate the side of rice for today, and instead leave the potatoes as the only starch. Traditionally in Colombia you'd have a variety of local indigenous potatoes and tubers in the stew, but for the sake of my needing to be healthy for at least a short period of time, I went with just one type of potato. The next thing I added was fresh asparagus, just blanched for a few minutes right in the soup broth. The chicken cooked similarly, just poaching itself in the delicious clear broth, infusing it with it's essence. At the last minute I tossed in a few fresh fava beans since I could still get them, then served it all up in a bowl over potatoes (boiled separately and added to the pot), topped with fresh and cooling avocado.

The dish ended up being better than I expected and not bland at all (as I had momentarily feared) despite removing a few delicious ingredients. In fact, it had great fresh flavor and a nice textural contrast from the crisp asparagus, firm potatoes and soft, poached chicken. The avocado was a perfect foil for the whole thing, soft and creamy and slightly nutty, it added a wonderful new layer of flavor and texture. I must admit that I'm excited to give this recipe a whirl in the summer when I'll have fresh corn at the ready. Also, it'd be great with a dollop of crema or sour cream instead of adding cream to the broth. In my first test run of the soup I made it with a scoop of brown rice on the bottom of the bowl, which I will definitely resurrect when summer rolls around. In the meantime, here's the light version, chock full of springtime veggies:

Spring Chicken Soup

1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into 1 inch chunks
1 bunch (about 1 lb) fresh asparagus, chopped, ends trimmed
1 lb white potatoes, peeled and chopped
1 cup fresh fava beans, shelled
6 cups chicken stock
juice of half a lemon
1 avocado, diced

1. Bring a small pot of salted water to a boil. Add potatoes and cook until tender but firm, about 15 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, bring chicken stock to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and add chicken pieces, cooking until done through.

3. Add cooked potatoes, asparagus and fava beans. Cook until asparagus is tender-crisp, then add lemon juice. Stir to combine and plate, topping each with avocado. Enjoy!

-Laura

The Cure For What Ails Me

Alright, I admit it. I'm jealous. Practically green with envy, and nearly foaming at the mouth. I've never been the jealous type, but I just can't take it anymore, and I have to to share before I pop a vein. Why are we on the east coast visiting farmers markets week after week this winter, only to find mounds of turnips, rutabagas, and carrots, while our culinary cohorts on the west coast are elbow deep in the delicious delights of winter citrus? Day after day, I'm stuck at home trying to conjure up yet another use for greens and parsnips, while over in California (and also Florida), they're already bored with their Meyer lemon tarts and juicy, blood orange sorbet. I've spent the better half of the last two months sulking, praying that someone at my farmers market would come through with a weather-proof, hydroponic Meyer lemon, or an indoor Buddha's hand. But sadly, none have come through because it's just not possible in this area, and I'm left hoping that someone, somewhere, will role even a shrivelled Key lime in my direction. Even if it's from New Jersey.

But this week I did all I could to pull my morale up by the bootstraps and convince myself that those lucky bastards in California must be missing something that's plentiful here on the east coast. Perhaps they crave a basket of sunchokes, a bagful of beets, or a massive stalk of celery. After a quick chat with a few west coast friends I realized that, nope, they live where the food comes from and they're plenty happy about it. So, after cursing foodies from LA to San Francisco, I decided to stop being a baby and show them how awesome we are here for making wonderful dishes amid a winter culinary wasteland. The result was a delicious, spicy soup that took advantage of some of the seasons bounty.

I started with a little winter squash puree leftover from my butternut squash risotto. I like to roast and puree several squash once so I can freeze them in baggies for future use, since I personally find roasting them such a pain. That way, when the time comes to cook, all I have to do is quick defrost them in the microwave instead of spending 45 minutes with the oven on. After that I figured a spiced up puree (I used two small Mexican chorizos, finely diced, some spices, and cayenne for a little heat) would be a great place to chuck all those less than lovely winter roots. I had 2 different sacks of potatoes to use up, so I went with those, but parsnips would certainly add a lovely sweetness as well (and contrast the heat nicely). I also used my new favorite method of cooking potatoes: steaming. It's much faster than boiling since you don't have to wait for a potful of water to come to a boil, and the resulting potatoes are soft without getting mushy (try it the next time you make mashed potatoes). I used the usual soup base to give it body along with the puree (onions and garlic, sauteed in the chorizo oil), but added one of my favorite less expected touches--apple cider vinegar. It's just the right amount of acid, and keeps with the seasonal factor. My feelings of jealousy and longing subsided at least for a night, but there's no telling when they might return. If you're as bad as I am, give this recipe a try, I can promise that it'll help at least temporarily.

Winter Squash Soup with Potatoes and Chorizo

2 cups squash puree
2/3 cup finely diced chorizo
3 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed
1 small onion, chopped
1 garlic clove, roughly chopped
1 cup chicken or vegetable broth (warm, if possible)
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1/4 tsp smoked paprika
1/8 tsp cayenne pepper
2 Tbsp apple cider or malt vinegar
1 cup water
extra virgin olive oil
salt
ground white pepper

1. Heat olive oil in a nonstick skillet and add chorizo, cooking until crispy. Remove to a plate and set aside (do NOT discard oil). Meanwhile, bring the water to a boil in a non-stick skillet. Add potatoes and cover with a lid, allowing potatoes to steam until cooked through. Set cooked potatoes aside with chorizo.

2. Return chorizo pan to heat and add onion, garlic, cumin, paprika, and cayenne pepper. Season onions with a pinch of salt, add pepper, and cook until onion begins to soften. Add squash puree and malt vinegar, cooking until everything is warmed through.

3. Pour mixture into a blender with 1/2 cup of broth and carefully blend until smooth. Continue blending with more broth until your desired consistency is reached. Return mixture to skillet, adding potatoes, and all but 1 tsp of chorizo (reserved for garnish). Serve topped with remaining chorizo and sliced scallion. Enjoy!

-Laura