Souper Sunday - late edition

Ahh - I could blame the house guests for posting this late - but that's just being petty. Besides, they really loved the soup.

I will spare you the vegan rhubarb and apple crumble that followed (just a bit too odd). Vegan desserts are definitely not my strong suit.


La Sfarrata with Rosemary oil
(adapted from Jill Dupleix, The Age Epicure)

1 onion, chopped
3 celery stalks, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
3 tablespoons Olive Oil (Extra virgin)
1/2 cup lentils (Australian blue are great)
1/2 cup pearled barley
1 x 400g can chopped tomatoes
1 litre vegetable stock
Sweet Chilli sauce (optional)
1 x 400g can cannellini beans
1 x 400g can chickpeas
Salt & Pepper

Rosemary Oil* to serve

In a large heavy saucepan heat the oil and lightly cook the onion, celery and garlic.

When softened, add the lentils, barley, tomatoes and stock. Bring to the boil and simmer gently until the lentils and barley are soft (about 30 minutes). I also add a good slug of sweet chilli sauce. It takes the edge off the acidity of the tomatoes, and adds just a hint of warmth to the soup.

Meanwhile, drain and rinse the beans and chickpeas. Add to pot and simmer gently for a further 30 minutes. Season generously with salt and pepper. This soup is great fresh - but like most hearty soups - it is even better the next day.

*To make the Rosemary Oil:
Pick a decent bunch of rosemary. Carefully pick off the green leaves and place in a mortar, discarding the woody stalks. Generously drizzle with extra virgin olive oil and sprinkle with a good pinch of coarse salt and some freshly cracked pepper (adds both flavour and acts as grist to release the oils). Pound with the pestle for about 5 minutes. It will make a pretty unsightly concoction - and the rosemary will not break down much (unlike when making a basil pesto). It should start to smell great and the oil will start to take up the colour of the rosemary. You may need to add more oil (the leaves do soak up a lot). Let it "ruminate" for a few minutes then carefully scoop it out and place it into a fine tea strainer set above a small bowl. Let the oil drain off and using the back of a teaspoon press the leaves to get as much oil out as possible. Discard the spent leaves.

















You should now have tablespoon or so of bright greenish oil with a darker sediment. It won't seem like much but it is quite strong and very pungent. The oils are very volatile and will deteriorate after a few hours - so you only need enough to drizzle on your soup (about 1 teaspoon per bowl).

To serve - ladle the soup into large bowls and drizzle with the rosemary oil (and more pepper if desired). A bit of freshly grated parmesan might also be nice - but not essential.

Souper Sunday - French Onion Edition

I was planning to start Souper Sunday with a different recipe, but when I was at the market yesterday there were the most awe inspiringly large onions that I quickly changed my mind.

Large shiny brown asteroids of goodness that practically begged to be made into soup - and just about put my back out as I loaded them in to the trolley.






















Onions ARE the bane of my cooking existence to peel and slice - so for this recipe if you only have to prep 4 big ones it seems a lot less tedious and hard on the eyes.

In fact as I sat on the couch and watched TV whilst Jms peeled and chopped them, my eyes hardly hurt at all.

















This recipe is dead easy - but does benefit from a slow food attitude. Good caramelisation, with an absence of burnt pots, requires an abundance of time, low heat and a steady hand.

Whoever called it stainless steel lied.






















French Onion Soup

1.5 kg - 2 kg large brown onions (approx 4 very big ones)
Olive Oil
Generous knob of butter
Heaped teaspoon cornflour
1/4 - 1/2 cup white wine (or verjuice, tho' quite sweet)
1 litre beef or vegetable stock (I use the Massel "beef style" stock cubes which ticks both the lazy cook and vegetarian boxes)
1 litre water
Black pepper
Salt

Baguette or other nice crusty bread
Gruyere cheese (or anything floating a round in the fridge with a bit of flavour)


Peel, halve and slice the onions.

Melt a generous slosh of olive oil with butter in a heavy based, large saucepan or stock pot. Add onions and stir to coat well. Lower heat, cover and let sweat, stirring occasionally.

When translucent (15 - 20 mins), remove lid, raise the heat a little and caramelise, stirring often (you want the onions to be a nice honey brown - but with no charred bits). This can take a little while - and is really the only part of this soup that requires a little attentiveness, especially towards the end. Like risotto - don't let yourself be distracted by the teev or there will be a (stinky) charred disaster. Though a few darker flecks can be tolerated in my experience.

Eventually everything will start to catch and hopefully get some serious colour - which is when you want to deglaze the pot by adding the wine. But don't lean over the pot unless you want to be temporarily blinded and instantly intoxicated.

Allow the alcohol to steam off , then slowly stir in the stock/water. Add some extra water if you want your soup a little thinner.

Mix the cornflour with a little water to make a runny paste and add to the soup. You can leave this bit out if you prefer a clear broth type soup - but I do it because I think it gives it a slightly heartier, fuller mouth feel.

Simmer for 30 minutes. Generously season with pepper and add salt if desired.

Slice baguette into rounds on the angle, and grill with a slice or two of cheese on top.

To serve, place a piece of bread or two in each bowl and ladle the hot soup over the top.

Bon appétit!

Ps. In French the expression "Ce n'est pas tes oignons" (literally translated as "It's not your onions") means it is none of your business. So there.

A pinch and a punch

The first day of March and officially the first day of Autumn, therefore in my book it's ...

SOUP WEATHER!

(the crowd goes wild with excitement)

Hand me my stock pot man!


Note:
The seasons first foray (above) was vaguely edible, but definitely NOT worthy of promotion. Celebrity chef (and your talentless ghost writer) - I cast a pox on your gourmet salt flakes and I hope your copper pots never polish clean.

I should have twigged at the inclusion of 1 and a 1/2 teaspoons of turmeric in PUMPKIN soup - the redecoration of one's small intestine to a bright yellow hue being the hallmark of good cooking. If it were Martha Stewart ... maybe.

I remain undeterred and hereby launch what I will refer to herein as Souper Sunday. My favourite soup recipes for your own enjoyment and test kitchen expertise.

Hopefully curse free.

What the Lord give, the Lord taketh away...

Whilst picking some rosemary I discovered to my delight that my Tahitian Lime had finally decided to bear fruit to maturity. Excited by my little clutch of nearly ripe limes I pulled back a few branches - only to notice lumps within the branches - all over the tree...

A quick Google search reveals my poor tree - that has been nursed through several drought stricken years and was finally surging with new life, flowers and fruit - is ridden with gall wasp.

Apparently with this kind of infestation (most of the branches are affected) I have to destroy the whole tree. How is that fair?

Poor little guy.

Broccoli and Bjork

Unfortunately in the weeks preceding the BIG DAY Jms and I had a need to go to Chadstone on many occasions. Dear God that place makes me worry for the fate of humanity, on so many levels.

But depressive, morally high-horsed diatribes aside - after the fix of fresh tempura salmon handrolls (still warm!) had quelled my distress, we happened to find ourselves in Borders in a postprandial bliss and stumbled upon the bargain bin books. More like the great wall of crazily cheap and random books that was at once inviting and overwhelming at the same time.

Well random indeed found me walking out with an armload of stuff including these two books. Possibly purchased only because they were so cheap - but both have proved to be outstanding little finds.














I don't know what caught my eye about this one - but I'm glad it did. A quick flick showed some really promising recipes. For the uninitiated, I LOVE soup. Bizarrely I never order it at restaurants, but if ever I can cook some, I'm there, wooden spoon at the ready. Perhaps its the lazy cook in me that likes the one pot meal coupled with the prep once for multiple meals.


Who could go past the strangeness of Broccoli and Oatmeal soup? Probably plenty - but not this little black duck. Just the kind of wackiness this doctor ordered - and it has proved to be an instant favourite.

(Though I may be biased - I am a Broccoli freak, I could eat it everyday - and actually try to. Jms achieved 5 star-husband status last week by discovering and cooking Oven Roasted Broccoli for me last week - OMG it was good) .

There are some really interesting flavour combinations (Brussel Sprout and Stilton, Carrot and Almond Cream, Dill and Turnip) that as you read make sense and get those taste buds tingling. It might be a little "new age" for some (soup as remedies for bad skin, circulation and sex drive starters!) but the recipes speak for themselves. There is also a really good section at the back for great soup additives - dumplings and such to turn simple soups into rib sticklers.






















Bargain Number two was this biography of the world's most famous Icelandic.

I've been a fan girl from the moment the first strains of "Birthday" entered my ears oh so many years ago. My obsession ran to slowly acquiring every single remix that ever existed (foot slog style visiting second hand music shops - in the days before P2P click and download entire oeuvre option). And to Jms' credit he stayed with me all through the 6 months of listening to Vespertine at least once, if not multiple times a day.

Fortunately though my fervour has waned - partly because other obsessions came (Decemberists anyone?) and because Volta still doesn't quite gel with me (apparently though I'm not the only one).

I found it an engrossing read that goes some way to reconcile the disparate images of the uber cool artist and the unstable and eccentric individual. As a creative finding my way in what seems a marketing and product driven world - it was comforting to read that commercial success was never sought by her and her meteoric rise up the pop charts was so out of left field it completely blindsided her world. I still admire her single mindedness and commitment to her art, and am admittedly somewhat jealous that she was able to find her calling at such a young age.

High Country Holiday

Had a wonderous break from the couch this weekend.

My step sister A got married to a wonderful man I'm proud to now call family.
A was bitten by the horse bug at a very young age and has spent her personal and professional life working with horses all around the world. Upon meeting her beau she remarked to her Mum "I've met this bloke AND he's got a horse truck!"

Dad graciously chauffeured Jms and I up to Beechworth for the happy event (Driving still out of bounds esp after a painful "test" trip down to the supermarket - two weeks living off the pantry was getting a bit grim)






















It was a beautiful county wedding (albeit frightfully cold) filled with horsey folk and gregarious kids. Having now organised one of those - I am keenly appreciative of all the effort it takes (and very glad to not be in the hot seat). Beechworth turned on the colour and was a great backdrop for the picture prefect bridal party replete with horse and carriage. As per usual Jms acquired a gaggle of girls climbing all over him and putting clips in his hair.






















I tried my best to keep up with talk of Thoroughbreds versus Warm bloods and laughed (I believe appropriately) when the best man declared the groom used to ride an Appaloosa (apparently not a serious choice for a horseman). My only equine contribution being "I'm a Clydesdale type myself" - without mentioning it's because they have moccasins. Bravely, I think, the bride and groom held a family dinner the night before the big event at Tanswell's Commercial Hotel. It was a really nice way to meet our new extended family and enjoy a great pub meal (with tasty beers from the Bridge Road Micro brewery - Oh how WE love a good porter). We stayed in a villa opposite the reception centre - which was really cool having most of the family under one roof again (my teenage self would be scowling at this obviously middle aged reminiscence)
















On the journey back we detoured via Milawa where we picked up some gourmet supplies - Milawa Cheese Factory (all vegetarian - yay!), the Olive shop (the Italian herb infused Manzanillo are SO yummy) and Milawa Mustards (I'd never have guessed how much fun a mustard tasting could be!) to name a few.

Then cementing it as our new Hume Highway family tradition, we stopped at the Avenel truck stop (where they have surprisingly good coffee) and consumed our cheese and olive booty in the sunshine.

It may not have done my cholesterol levels any good but it certainly lifted my heart.