Category Archives: Soups and Stews

Lucky Black-Eyed Pea, Turkey Sausage and Kale Soup (with a vegan variation)

Vegan Black Eyed Pea and Kale Soup 

Welcome to the first week of the new year.  I don’t know about you, but the mister and I ate well these past couple months!  This time, I don’t mean well in the nutritional sense, I mean well in the tasty carb-laden sense.  January is the time I like to bring myself back into balance.  In these winter months, I’m usually looking for something to fill me up, warm me up, and satisfy my craving for food that comforts, without using heavier meats, carbs and creamy dairy.  That’s where knowing how to coax and prod ingredients together is key.

Dried Black Eyed Peas

Black Eyed Peas (1)

Today’s soup is the definition of slow food.  It’s meant for one of those days where you can give the ingredients time to transform–roast and caramelize, lazily simmer… It’s best to be made while you laze or work around the house, breathing in the smells, taking momentary breaks to chop or saute.  Roasted vegetable stock is a secret weapon that every full- or part-time vegetarian should have in their arsenal.  I make the stock whenever I’m looking for caramelized fullness, adding a layer of depth to soup or sauce.

vegetables

Roasted Vegetables

You can choose between two different variations of this soup: the vegan version or the turkey sausage version.  I use the turkey sausage when I’m looking for a more filling soup with an added layer of savoriness, and the vegan version when I’m just in the mood for vegetables.  Either variation will satisfy your craving for healthy comfort food during these chilly winter months.

Soup with Turkey Sausage

I hope the new year brings you everything the ingredients in this soup represent;  peas for prosperity, greens for money, and healthy ingredients married together to satisfy your belly and make your body happy!

Lucky Black Eyed Pea, Turkey Sausage and Kale Soup

Although this is slow food, be sure to read through the steps first in order to avoid making it slow-er food!  The black eyed peas will need to soak overnight (or quick soak for 2-3 hours).  While the half the vegetables are being roasted for the stock, the other half can be simmering while the beans are cooking.  

  • 1 1/2 cups dried black eyed peas, soaked overnight or quick-soaked (see note)
  • 1/2 pound ground turkey sausage (optional)
  • 1 large yellow onion, chopped
  • 2 medium carrots, peeled and diced
  • 2 medium parsnips, peeled and diced
  • 2 ribs celery, chopped
  • 4 large cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 14.5 ounce can crushed fire roasted tomatoes (I use Muir Glenn brand)
  • 6-8 cups roasted root vegetable stock (recipe follows)
  • 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  • 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus additional to taste
  • 3/4 teaspoon dried thyme, or 3/4 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme leaves
  • 3 bay leaves
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt, plus additional to taste
  • 1 bunch dino kale (aka: Lacinato), torn into 1 1/2 inch pieces (discard the thickest parts of the stem)
  • 3 teaspoons red wine vinegar, or to taste

1. Make the roasted root vegetable stock (recipe follows)

2. Drain and rinse the soaked beans (this step can be done while the broth simmers). Place them in a medium saucepan and cover with 2-inches cold water.  Bring to a boil, then cook at a simmer for about an hour to an hour and a half, until beans are tender but not mushy.  Drain and set aside.

3. For the turkey sausage version only (otherwise, skip to step two): heat 1 tablespoon of the olive oil in a large dutch oven or saucepan over medium high heat.  Add the turkey sausage to the pan, breaking it into smaller pieces with a spatula.  Cook, stirring occasionally for 5-6 minutes, or until the sausage is cooked through and browned.  Remove the sausage to a plate and set aside.

4. Heat the remaining oil in a large dutch oven or saucepan until shimmering.  Add the diced onion, carrot, parsnip and celery.  Saute for 8-10 minutes until the root vegetables are crisp tender and onion is softened.  Add the garlic and saute, stirring constantly, for an additional minute.  Add the tomatoes, cooked black eyed peas, cooked turkey sausage, crushed red pepper flakes, black pepper, thyme, bay leaves, and 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt.  Add 6-8 cups broth (you may need more if using turkey sausage).

5. Bring to a boil over medium high heat.  Immediately reduce heat to medium-low and simmer for an hour.

6. Add the torn kale and simmer for an additional 8-10 minutes, or until the kale is cooked but still holds its shape.

7. Add the red wine vinegar, and season to taste with additional kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, if desired.

Roasted Root Vegetable Stock

Adapted from The Vegetarian Kitchen by Peter Berley

Makes about 6-8 cups

  • 2 pounds carrots, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 2 pounds yellow onions, trimmed, peeled, and cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 1 head garlic, separated into cloves (unpeeled)
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 3 1/2 quarts cold water
  • 1 pound parsnips, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 1 small turnip, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 1 celery rib with its leaves, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 1 (1-inch) piece ginger root, cut into 1/8-inch thick rounds
  1. Preheat the oven to 400˚F.
  2. In a medium bowl, toss together half the carrots, parsnips, onions, and garlic cloves with the oil, and spread them across one or two baking sheets.  Roast for 40-50 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are well caramelized.
  3. In the meantime, put the remaining vegetables, along with 2 quarts of the water in a large saucepan.  Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low and simmer for 30-40 minutes, until the other half of the vegetables are finished roasting.
  4. Add the roasted vegetables and an additional 6 cups water to the saucepan.  Bring to a boil over high heat.  Reduce the heat to low, and simmer, uncovered, for 1 1/2 hours.
  5. Strain the stock and discard the solids.

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Honey-Chipotle Sweet Potato Soup

Sometimes when I can’t think of anything to write, I don’t write anything at all.  I could expound upon my writers block, but instead, I thought I’d just start writing. I have grand plans of things to share with all of you for the holidays; food gifts I’m planning to give, appetizer party fare, and general bustling in the kitchen.  I don’t blog as much as I would like, mostly because I am simultaneously right-brained and perfectionistic.  I’m like a kid with a handful of confetti.  I throw all the pieces up into the air, fancy free, and then, through the process of creating the recipe, experimenting with photography, and fussing over what to write, I slowly tie up the pieces into blog entries.

The perfectionism creeps in at different places during the process, and I use the term “perfectionism” loosely, as this mostly means I wait until it feels right before moving onto the next step–it could be looking for the “perfect” recipe idea, or the photograph that helps an ingredient shine, or the perfect subject to write about.  I don’t want all the potential of holiday food blogging to pass me by just because I’m overwhelmed with wrapping my ideas in neat little packages.

This sweet potato soup, as is typical for me, was born out of a scribbled idea in my food-writing journal, and came together on the spot, for a last minute dinner with the mister and the mother in law.  I envisioned a silky smooth soup, honey-laced, smoky and sweet, with slow-building chipotle spice. I debated over how to incorporate the chipotle into the soup, finally deciding to toss the sweet potatoes, onions and garlic in the adobo sauce and chopped chilies and roast it all up in the oven, as is my default in the winter.  I whirred it up with some homemade vegetable broth, and served with a drizzling of olive oil and a scattering of toasted pepitas.  We could taste each component of the soup, from the sweetness of the honey-infused sweet potato puree, to the smokiness from the chipotle chiles.  The roasted onion and garlic lent depth in flavor, and rounded out the sweetness of the potatoes.

I hereby resolve to lasso a little more of my confetti this holiday season.  How about you?  Do you need more lassoing, or could you use a bit more confetti in your life?

Honey-Chipotle Sweet Potato Soup

Makes 6-8 servings

Using a whole can of chipotle chiles yields a moderately spicy, but still balanced soup.  (Update:  Some readers found a whole can of chipotle chiles to be too spicy.  Feel free to adjust the amount of chiles according to your tastes)

3 1/2 pounds orange-fleshed sweet potatoes or yams, peeled and cut into 1 inch pieces

1 large onion, peeled, trimmed, and cut into 1 inch wedges

8 cloves garlic, peeled

3 tablespoons canola oil

3 to 4 tablespoons honey, divided

1 can (7 ounces) chipotle chiles in adobo sauce (to taste, according to level of heat desired.)

kosher salt

6 to 8 cups vegetable broth

3/4 cups pepitas (pumpkin seeds), toasted

Extra virgin olive oil, to garnish

Preheat the oven to 425˚F.  Finely chop the chipotle chiles, reserving the adobo sauce.  In a large bowl, combine the sweet potatoes, onion, garlic, cloves, the adobo sauce, chopped chiles, canola oil, 3 tablespoons honey, and 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt.  Toss well to coat.  Spread in a single layer on two foil-lined baking sheets.  Roast in the oven for about 45 minutes, trading the position of the pans halfway through, until the potatoes are soft and are dark golden in spots.

Put the roasted vegetables into a large saucepan.  Add 6 cups of the vegetable broth and bring to a simmer over medium heat.  Reduce heat to low and simmer for 20 minutes.  Puree the soup using an immersion blender, or in batches in a normal blender.  Be careful if blending hot soup in the blender–do so in small batches and hold the top on with a kitchen towel to avoid an eruption.  Add the remaining 2 cups of broth as needed to thin out the soup.  Season to taste with kosher salt, black pepper, and an additional tablespoon of honey if desired.

Garnish with a swirl of olive oil, a scattering of toasted pepitas, and a grinding of black pepper.

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Moroccan Lentil Soup

My husband and I met a friend downtown last Friday for drinks.  I’m not high maintenance by most standards, but it took me about 40 minutes and two outfit changes to switch over from teacher-mode to going out mode.  The mister, on the other hand, showered, shaved, chose a button up shirt and jeans, and carefully mussed his hair in less than 15.  He was sitting on the couch playing Angry Birds long before I emerged from the bedroom to ask him which shoes looked better.

My male counterpart is usually known around here by pseudonyms like Mr. Medium Rare, The Hubs and my favorite taste tester.  You may be surprised to know that he has a real name.  Meet Peder; 6 foot 4, blue-eyed and amiable, the keeper of  both random and highly useful knowledge.  Equal parts logical and creative,  stubbly and polished.  Peder has good kitchen sense, but cooks only occasionally.  He rarely reads cookbooks or browses food sites, and chooses recipes like he shops–thinks, decides, procures, purchases, and goes home to move onto more important things.  And the most endearingly annoying part? Every recipe he chooses is pure gold.

If you have been to my house in the past 3 months, you have undoubtedly heard about “the” Moroccan lentil soup.  You know, the one we mention every time the topic of food comes up (which is pretty frequently around here).  You may have even tried it, one of the ten times we have made it recently, at a school staff potluck, or a last minute dinner get-together.

I’d love to take credit for finding such a fantastic recipe.  After all, I read cookbooks like it’s my part time job.  I luxuriate in the glossy pages, and bookmark potentials with neon sticky notes.  I check Tastespotting on a daily basis, just to see what catches my eye. The problem is, I’m easily distractable…Um, what were we talking about again?  Oh, right.

It goes something like this:  I go to my massive shelf of cookbooks and pull out the Native Foods cookbook, Madhur Jaffrey’s Indian Home Cooking, and the latest issue of Bon Appetit.  Halfway through the sandwich chapter of my Native Foods cookbook, I remember my favorite portobello burger.  A good possibility…I move on to Madhur Jaffrey.  Before I can flip past the foreword, I remember a recipe I had bookmarked on Indian Simmer.  After deciding that the Malai Kofta would have to wait for another day, I head on over to another one of my favorite food blogs, Use Real Butter.  Oh, look, I can make ice cream using only bananas!  Hey Peder–I can make ice cream using only bananas!  You get the picture.

One day, three months ago, Peder decided to make lentil soup for dinner.  After a quick google search, he discovered this recipe buried deep in the comments section of another recipe (we later found the recipe in The Art of the Slow Cooker by Andrew Schloss).  He gathered the ingredients, mostly pantry staples.  It took him 20 minutes to chop and saute the onions and garlic with heaped spoonfuls of aromatic spices.  He added the red lentils, broth, and crushed tomatoes, and poured everything into the slow cooker.  6 hours later, something magical emerged.  The lentils were soft, but still toothsome, like perfectly cooked al dente pasta.  The broth had a layered complexity and was scented with turmeric, coriander, and a hint of cinnamon.  A couple pulses of the immersion blender thickened the broth slightly, turning the soup from light to medium-bodied.  A squeeze of lemon and some parsley and cilantro stirred in at the end woke up all the flavors and tied them all together.

At first, I was a little jealous that I didn’t find this fantastic recipe on my own.  Then…I tasted a spoonful, and thought, a girl could really get used to this!

Moroccan Lentil Soup

Adapted from The Art of the Slow Cooker by Andrew Schloss

Serves 6

  • 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
  • 2 large onions, chopped
  • 3 large cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 heaped teaspoons ground coriander
  • 2 heaped teaspoons ground cumin
  • 1 teaspoon turmeric
  • 3/4 teaspoons paprika
  • 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon allspice (optional)
  • 1 1/2 to 2 teaspoons kosher salt (to begin with), then to taste
  • 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 7 cups vegetable broth
  • 1 24-ounce can crushed tomatoes
  • 2 cups dried red lentils, rinsed and picked over
  • a pinch of crushed red pepper flakes
  • juice of 1 lemon
  • a small splash of red wine vinegar (about 1/2 tablespoon)
  • 3 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley leaves
  • 1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro

Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan or dutch oven over medium-high heat.  Add the onions and cook until tender, about 6 minutes.  Add the garlic, coriander, cumin, turmeric, paprika, cinnamon, and allspice.  Cook for another minute or two, stirring to coat the onions.  Add the broth, tomatoes and salt, and bring to a boil.  Pour into a slow cooker, and stir in the lentils.  Cook for 4 to 5 hours on high, or 6-8 hours on low, or until the lentils are tender.

Stir in the lemon juice, a small splash of red wine vinegar, red pepper flakes, cilantro, and parsley.  Season to taste again with kosher salt.   Cover and cook for an additional 10 minutes.


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Cooking With Friends Part Two: Roasty Pumpkin-Butternut Soup with Frizzled Sage Leaves

 

I’ve had soup on the brain lately.  At the first sign of crisp Fall air, I made tomato soup.  When my father in-law gifted me with a batch of smoky white bean soup, I eagerly accepted, and promptly devoured.  Whether chowder or bisque, gumbo or stew, brothy or hearty, filling or light, Fall means soup.  Soup in epic proportions.

So, I will ask your forgiveness, readers, for posting about soup three times in a row…but I never turn down an invitation to cook with friends.  When my close friend Karissa, geographically far (but always close in mind), invited me to make pumpkin soup, I had to accept.

You see, Karissa lives in Morocco.  Although Skype and e-mail suffice for now, I miss the simple things that make up our friendship, like browsing and chatting over tea at the bookstore…random photography excursions…double-dates and speed scrabble with the husbands…and most of all, cooking good food together.

I admired Karissa’s charming white pumpkin, gifted by her co-worker Imane, and journeyed to the last farmers market of the year to find my own pumpkin–an heirloom variety with plenty of character of its own.

I found this delightful lad at the farmer’s market.  He just wouldn’t leave without his friend, a precocious little butternut squash, so I relented and took both home.  As I marched through the un-raked leaves on my walkway, satisfied with the crunch beneath my feet, I felt as if Fall had finally arrived.

My pumpkin soup embodies everything I love about Fall:  rich roasty flavors, comfort-food spices like cinnamon and allspice, and the aroma of sage-browned butter–a combination I crave like clockwork every year during the colder months.

This pumpkin soup tastes best when eaten with friends; so whether your friend lives next door, or in Casablanca, Morocco (many of Karissa’s friends, ironically, fit both of these criteria), share a few spoonfuls!

Roasty Pumpkin-Butternut Soup with Frizzled Sage Leaves

Serves 4-6 as a main course

For the Soup:

  • 1 small/medium pumpkin (3 pounds)
  • 1 butternut squash (2 pounds), halved lengthwise, seeds scooped out
  • 1 large onion, finely chopped
  • 1 rib celery, finely chopped
  • 1 carrot, peeled and finely chopped
  • 3 large cloves garlic, minced
  • 16 fresh sage leaves (for frying)
  • 1 teaspoon fresh chopped sage
  • 4 tablespoons butter
  • 6 tablespoons olive oil, plus extra for roasting
  • 1/2 tsp allspice, divided
  • 1/2 tsp cinnamon, divided
  • 1/4 tsp white pepper, plus extra to stir in at the end
  • 1 teaspoon real maple syrup
  • 4 cups chicken broth or vegetable broth
  • Kosher salt to taste

For the Croutons

  • 2 cups cubed bread (from a baguette or loaf of ciabatta)
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • a pinch of kosher salt

Prepare for roasting:

Preheat the oven to 425˚F.  Cut off the top of the pumpkin (like you do for Halloween), and scoop out the seeds and stringy bits.  Cut the pumpkin into wedges and place on a baking sheet.  Cut the butternut squash into 3/4 inch thick slices and place on a separate baking sheet.  Drizzle a generous amount of olive oil over the pumpkin and squash.  Sprinkle 1/4 teaspoon allspice, 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/4 teaspoon white pepper, and about 1 teaspoon kosher salt over the pumpkin and squash pieces.  Toss to coat.

Roast the Pumpkin and Squash:

Bake in the 425˚ oven for about 45 minutes, flipping the pieces over after 30 minutes.  You want your pumpkin and squash to be softened and lightly browned. (Keep a careful eye on the oven, because your butternut squash may cook faster than the pumpkin)

Allow to cool slightly before handling.

Build Your Soup:

Heat the butter and olive oil in a large dutch oven or saucepan until butter is melted.  Wait until the mixture is hot, and then fry the whole sage leaves, 8 at a time  until the edges curl up slightly (the leaves will crisp further upon cooling). Remove to a paper towel-covered plate. At this point, the butter-oil mixture should be a light golden brown.

Saute the onion, carrot, celery, and chopped sage in the brown-butter mixture until the vegetables are softened but not browned.  Add the garlic, and saute for two more minutes. Scoop out the flesh of the pumpkin and squash, and add to the pan.  Add the remaining 1/4 teaspoon allspice, a pinch of white pepper, and the maple syrup, and salt to taste.  Stir, then allow to simmer for 10 minutes.

Make the croutons:

While the soup is simmering, set the oven to 350˚F.  Toss the bread cubes in the olive oil and salt, and bake on a baking sheet for about 10 minutes, or until golden.

Finish the Soup:

Blend the soup together until smooth, adding additional broth if needed to reach the right consistency.

Serve while hot, garnishing with croutons and fried sage leaves.


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Cooking With Friends Part One: Karissa’s Moroccan-Spiced Pumpkin Soup

When I received an e-mail with the subject line “Cook Together?” from my wonderful friend Karissa, my interest was piqued.  I knew the answer was “yes” even before knowing the details.  Sure, we’ve embarked on culinary adventures together before…like the time we made sushi rolls and miso soup, hands all sticky with rice and seaweed; or put ourselves into a sugar coma with a big batch of vanilla buttercream macaroons.

Karissa’s co-worker in Morocco (yes, that’s right–Morocco!) had given her a cheeky little organic pumpkin as an early fall gift.  Not long after her invitation to make pumpkin soup together, I found myself toting my own heirloom pumpkin through the Cherry Creek Farmers Market.

What follows is Karissa’s experience living, cooking, sharing with friends, and her Moroccan take on pumpkin soup…

Part One:  Moroccan-Spiced Pumpkin Soup

Text and Photos by Karissa Swanson-Moore

I was delighted when Imane, my coworker and fellow lover-of-cooking, presented me with a little organic pumpkin and a note: “Happy Early Fall & Happy Cooking.” I spent two weeks deliberating over the most creative possibility for this charming vegetable.

Of course, I emailed my dear friend and greatest cooking inspiration, Jenny, and we devised a plan. Choose a basic pumpkin soup recipe, adapt it to your liking, and share! I perused many recipes, and realized that aside from the pumpkin-apple sweet idea, none of these quite fit the bill for me.

I devised a way to fill my soup with my favorite Moroccan spices: cinnamon, saffron, and cumin. Accompany those with the fun things I find in the market: quince, big yellow raisins. There you have it, a recipe of my own whim, and a day to make it happen. Here is my story of Moroccan cooking.

This rainy morning I wandered to the underground market, basket in hand, expecting a lull in activity. Not so, as I was pushed aside multiple times by the guy squeeging water from the walkway.  Here are my main ingredients.

My ness (that’s half in Arabic) kilos of ingredients are weighed quickly on the scale and bagged up by efficient hands.

Part of the adventure of cooking in Morocco is getting the ingredients. A woman cannot go to the market alone without a sense of humor. Trying to be careful about taking pictures of others, I asked this man if I could photograph his vegetables. What followed was a series of posed shots, taken by the guy selling tomatoes, of the shopkeepers and I.

All said and done, I paid decent prices and walked, heavy with produce, back to my kitchen. After thoroughly washing my vegetables, which includes a bath of water and a dash of bleach (lesson learned from past experience), I attempt to capture the beauty of this food before I chop it all up!

An army of zucchini

Moroccan celery

Grumpy-faced quince

My adventure is almost complete. “There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the Real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other’s cooking & say it was good.”  As artist Brian Andreas so eloquently puts it, it’s time to share this soup with the friends I’ve made in Morocco.

Moroccan-Spiced Pumpkin Soup

By Karissa

  • 1 small pumpkin (approx. 1.5 lbs), peeled and cubed.
  • 2 quince, peeled and cubed
  • 1 medium yellow or Vidalia onion
  • approx. 5 cups vegetable broth (see below) or Chicken Broth (the exact amount will vary depending on your desired consistency)
  • 3 T. butter
  • 1 ½ tsp. ground cinnamon
  • ½ tsp. ground cumin
  • ½ tsp. ground ginger
  • Generous pinch of saffron, soaked in about ¼ cup of hot water
  • 1 cup plain yogurt
  • 1 ¼ cup yellow raisins and crushed walnuts for garnish

Vegetable Broth

  • Pinch of salt
  • Freshly ground black pepper
  • 3 cinnamon sticks
  • 8 garlic cloves, chopped
  • ½ head of a small cabbage, cut into large pieces
  • 2 large green onions (5 small), chopped
  • 5 carrots, chopped
  • 6 Celery stems and leaves, chopped
  • 1 bunch of parsley, knotted
  • 3 small zucchini, chopped into large pieces
  • Pinch of salt
  • Freshly ground black pepper
  • 3 cinnamon sticks

Process

Start with the vegetable broth.  Fill a big kettle halfway with water and a pinch of salt.  Add the chopped vegetables and more water to cover.  Add the spices and bring to a boil.  Once boiling, turn heat down to a simmer, cover, and allow to simmer for 2 hours.

When the broth is almost finished, start preparing the pumpkin soup. Heat a large saucepan; add butter, and sauté the pumpkin, followed by the quince, then the onion.

Remove the carrots, cabbage, and zucchini from the vegetable broth and add them to the pumpkin mixture. Pour some of the broth into this mixture, making sure to not add too much or the soup will be watery.

Add the spices, except the saffron, and bring to boil. When the quince and pumpkin are nearly tender, add 1 cup of the raisins and the saffron-water mixture.

When all ingredients are cooked, use a mixing wand or blender to puree the soup.

Present with a dollop of plain yogurt, crushed walnuts, and yellow raisins. Serve with crusty bread.

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