Category Archives: food and cooking

When winter is coming on: Comfort Soup

family, food and cooking,

Last week I made Comfort Soup with lamb instead of beef. I couldn’t find the written recipe fast enough, so I gave up and made a version from memory. And I see, now that I found the recipe, that I had forgotten one of the few ingredients. But the lamb made it superb nonetheless.

This morning I looked here to see if I had ever posted the recipe for this soup that was a mainstay of our menus from the beginning of our family. Though I had mentioned twice the eating of it, it appears I never shared the recipe itself, which I had clipped from Mademoiselle magazine when in high school, and saved in the three-ring binder that I used for all those ideas I hoped to use “someday.”

More than any other product of our kitchen, this recipe was requested by friends to whom we served it, and many of them mention it years later, telling how they continue to make it in their own homes. I wish I had the original magazine clipping, but I think it was becoming unreadable, at which point — I don’t want to say how long ago, because it’s mind-boggling — my oldest, Pearl, wrote out our family’s most recent adaptation, which you can see in the picture. But this is the original:

COMFORT SOUP

1 quart chicken stock
2 boxes frozen chopped spinach
1 # lean ground beef
2/3 c. grated Parmesan cheese
1 egg
ground black pepper

In a soup pot heat chicken stock and add spinach, frozen or thawed. Heat to a simmer (this will take longer if you are defrosting the spinach at the same time) while you make tiny meatballs (about ¾” in diameter) from the ground beef, cheese, and a dash of ground black pepper (which you have first mixed together). When the broth is simmering and the spinach is defrosted, add the meatballs and simmer for 10-15 minutes.  Lightly beat the egg and swirl it around in the soup. Serve.

Serves 2-4. Good with French bread.

I don’t see spinach frozen in boxes anymore. The other day I made my lamb version with a pound of frozen chopped spinach and about a pound and a half of ground lamb. I forgot the egg altogether, and didn’t measure the Parmesan cheese. In the past I have made it with (a lot of!) fresh spinach. It’s very adaptable.

Just now I searched online for Comfort Soup to see if anyone else in the world had used that recipe from the 60’s, but if they did, they haven’t featured it on their website. In the era of food porn, something this “plain” does not have the right features to endear it to cooking site hosts, and there is not even a photo of anything resembling it. You’ll have to make it yourself if you are to experience in better ways than the visual, how Comfort Soup is a winter-warming pot of coziness.

Albert Anker – Girl Eating Soup

Moroccan lamb pie warms and charms.

food and cooking, poetry, , , , ,

In the first autumn of Gladsome Lights, I shared this old recipe for a lamb stew served as a shepherd’s pie. I haven’t had occasion to make it for a long time, but this evening when my mind turned to the kind of dishes that warm both body and soul, this one appeared.

Mutton is the meat I love.
On the dresser, see it lie;
Oh, the charming white and red;
Finer meat ne’er met the eye.

Roasting lamb is one of those aromas that reminds me of my grandmother. Combine it with Moroccan spices, and it makes for one of my favorite dishes:

Moroccan Lamb and Sweet Potato Pie

2 tsp. ground cinnamon
4 tsp. ground cumin
3 tsp. ground coriander
2 T. freshly grated ginger
1 T. all-purpose flour (or arrowroot)
1 ½ tsp. salt, plus more to taste
¼ tsp. freshly ground pepper, plus more to taste
2 lb. lean leg of lamb, cut into 1-inch cubes
3 T. olive oil
4 T. unsalted butter
2 large onions, thinly sliced
1 T. sugar
3 large cloves garlic, peeled and minced (about 1 ½ T.)
3 c. beef stock
1 28-oz. can whole Italian plum tomatoes
2 pieces star anise
2 cinnamon sticks, about 3 inches long
2 medium carrots, peeled and cut into ½-inch rounds
2 lb. sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed
12 oz. fresh spinach (optional) washed
½ c. dried tart cherries
½ c. dried pitted prunes, cut in half freshly grated nutmeg, for sprinkling

1. In a medium mixing bowl, combine the ground cinnamon, 2 tsp. cumin, 1 tsp. coriander, flour, ½ tsp. salt, and ¼ tsp. pepper. Toss the lamb pieces with the spice mixture to coat.

2. In a Dutch oven or a large saucepan, heat 2 T. olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the lamb in two to three batches, in a single layer, and sear until dark brown on all sides, about six minutes per batch. Add the remaining T. olive oil during searing if pan becomes dry. Remove the lamb pieces and set aside.

3. Reduce heat to medium; add I T. butter. Add onions and sugar; cook 10 minutes, stirring frequently, scraping up brown bits on bottom of pan while stirring the onion.

4. Reduce heat to medium low, add the minced garlic, and cook until brown and well caramelized, about 15 minutes.

5. Stir in the stock, tomatoes, star anise, cinnamon sticks, carrots, remaining 2 tsp. cumin, 2 tsp. coriander, the fresh ginger, remaining 1 tsp. salt, and reserved lamb. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium, and simmer, stirring occasionally, uncovered, for about 1 hour, until lamb is tender and sauce is thick.


6. Meanwhile, place sweet potatoes in a large saucepan; cover with cold water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium, and simmer, uncovered, for 15 minutes, until very tender when pierced with a fork. Drain potatoes, and return to saucepan. Dry potatoes, over medium heat, for 1 minutes. Pass potatoes through a food mill into a medium bowl. Stir in remaining 3 T. butter; add salt to taste. Set aside, loosely covered.

7. Preheat oven to 325 degrees. If using spinach, place in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Season to taste with salt and pepper, cover, and cook until wilted, about 1 ½ minutes. Drain, and rinse under cold water to stop the cooking. Set aside.

8. Remove the star anise and cinnamon sticks from the stew. Stir in the cherries and prunes. Transfer mixture to a deep 2-qt. Casserole, and place a layer of spinach, if using, over the stew. Spoon the sweet potato mixture onto the stew. Place on a baking sheet, and bake for 30 minutes. Sprinkle with freshly grated nutmeg.

Notes: I have always used a whole boneless leg of lamb for this recipe, which usually is about 5 lb., not 2 lb., so I end up with more than 2 times the quantity. You can see  I have two pots of the stew simmering.

This gives me plenty to put in the freezer for another day, which raises the question of how to prepare the yams. If I purée all the yams, they end up getting  mushed up into the stew by the time I have reheated it, especially if it spends time in the freezer.

The stew tastes especially nice if the flavors have blended overnight, so I try to cook it a day ahead. Also this time I baked ahead of time the sort of monster yams, not very sweet, that are in the discount supermarket around Thanksgiving, not knowing yet how I would arrange everything the next day. Sometimes I have baked smaller sweet potatoes and served them to the side of the stew…

…but on this occasion, I ended up slicing them on top, brushed with butter and sprinkled with parsley and cinnamon, to take to a potluck. Sorry, the photo shows the dish before it had its final heating in the oven, and the butter is still solidifying on the cold yams. That evening the yam slices were gone before the stew itself.

In this season of my life, I don’t have a crowd to feed every day, but I think if I made a big pan of this stew I might be able to find enough friends to eat with me, and fortify ourselves against the coming winter. Next I’ll consider what other fallish items would fill out the menu… How about a dessert pie?

 

 

Rain on zinnias, seeds on crackers.

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It was hard to keep up with myself last week, and with all the friends, projects and tasks that fill my life to overflowing. I guess I was somewhat playing catch-up after my mountain retreat the previous week. The garden got gently rained on three times that last week of September, which is unusual. Combined with fog on other days, the dampness caused mildew in the planter boxes, but mostly the lower leaves of the tall zinnias have been affected.

When I noticed the Japanese anemones looking better than ever, it occurred to me to plant a few more this fall, maybe some pale pink ones — but I corrected my impulsivity in time, and won’t be taking on one more project, what with so many others unfinished. A more reasonable goal would be to try to take better care of the anemones I have, and see if they can be encouraged to be taller and more robust. It’s a sign of their middling health, that they do not ever spread and multiply, and their flowers are few and small.

The sneezeweed I grow in a pot looks as well as it ever has. I bought it a few years ago at a native plant nursery, because I love the mountain versions of the flower. I put it in a pot so I could be sure to water it enough; the irrigation settings for most of my garden are set for drought-tolerant plants, and sneezeweed is not one of those. My type is pretty plain, or at least monochromatic, compared to the mountain ones.

In search of fancier kinds, a few months ago I browsed sneezeweeds online for quite a while, and ordered seeds for this one, Purple-Headed. When I am looking at seed catalogs or even plants in nurseries, all the options seem so do-able and desirable. But once the time comes to get on with the actual work of planting… well, I literally drag my feet. So who knows what will happen with these seeds…

I used my sourdough starter twice last week, first to make a large pan loaf of seeded wheat-and-spelt bread. This is the recipe I have been trying to perfect, but perfection hasn’t happened yet. I may have to pause the sourdough project while I branch out and reach back, to other breads I have made or have wanted to try, like chocolate bread, Indian flatbreads, and applesauce rye.

Buttery Sourdough Crackers was a satisfying recipe that used a bit of starter. This picture shows the dough as it was resting overnight, along with leaves of the lemon verbena that I am drying, after pruning my plant for the first time ever.

I used this recipe for: Rustic Sourdough Butter Crackers as my jumping off place, substituting half dark rye flour, and adding sesame seeds to one half, and poppy seeds to the other. I baked them a lot longer than the recipe called for. The resulting crackers are nice and crispy and easy to eat. The butter ingredient plus the sourdough tang is a great combination.

My friend Lucy and I took another one of our monthly walks, up in the hills again but to a park she hadn’t been to before. It’s mostly very brown up there now, but the poison oak is making red splashes in the landscape. And my old friend tarweed!

The Seek app tells me this is not either of the species I saw on my way up the mountain last month, but Hayfield Tarweed. And it seems to come in white or yellow versions, in one case growing side by side:

The third online Beowulf class was this week, and I spent more than two happy hours in the company of the most delightful teachers, Richard Rohlin and Jonathan Pageau. They both love the subject, and Richard is definitely a Beowulf scholar from way back. I will have to at least quote a couple of lines from the poem here eventually, though it seems that unlike me, most people I’ve talked to got an introduction to Beowulf in school. So you may already be more familiar with the story than I.

Apple orchard where I go.

At the end of the week, I remembered: apples! It’s time to make a trip my favorite apple ranch, and see which of their 30+ varieties is available now. I squeezed it in on Saturday afternoon, and added a stop at a nursery out that way, hoping they would have starts of some kind of leafy greens I could tuck into spaces in the planter boxes after I take out zucchini and tomatoes and eggplant. They did!

So here in the back of my car is a mix of apples Empire, Jonathan and Macintosh; and six packs of Swiss chard and collards. I do have chard growing right now, but I think I need more. And I wasn’t able to get collards started from seed in August.

One more glad sighting of late summer I want to share, is this half wine barrel that was unplanted through last winter:

When I put in some snapdragon plants in late spring, I noticed a couple of tiny mystery plants that didn’t look like weeds, so I left them undisturbed. Now everything has filled out and I find that I have beautiful Thai basil and tropical sage complementing the snaps. Gardens are ever surprising.

Happy October!

A visit from Maggie and Pearl.

family, food and cooking, summer, , ,

I’m still enjoying the afterglow of having Pearl and her daughter Maggie here for a couple of days last week. Just we three, three generations, happy to be together, however briefly. I don’t think I mentioned at the time that Maggie came by herself for two nights last May; on her way home from college she stopped here.

This time they were headed back in the other direction. We shopped a little bit for things she’ll need in her dorm suite, and Maggie took her car for an oil change. We cooked a lot, and it is so fun to cook with helpers who go on to appreciate everything on the table. Other times, Pearl very wisely suggested sitting outdoors with our tea or whatever, and there is nothing like being in the garden with people I love.

One afternoon Maggie told us mysteriously that she was going to run a quick errand, and when she came back she was bringing three It’s It ice cream sandwiches. It seems these treats aren’t available except in California.

The weather was fairly warm, but Maggie and Pearl had come from a hotter and more humid Wisconsin, so no one was bothered much. We ate the goodies on the patio, at dusk. It typically cools off here even before the sun sets, so to be gifted a rare balmy evening, coordinated perfectly with our desire to sit out in the most leisurely way — that was the icing on the cake, or the ice cream between the oatmeal cookies.

There had been cake, too, which I’d baked beforehand in honor of both their birthdays, belatedly. I used a Lemon Buttermilk Sheet Cake recipe from America’s Test Kitchen, which I found on someone else’s site, and changed just a little bit. It used the zest and juice of three whole lemons, and was the best lemon cake I’ve ever eaten. I forgot to take a picture, and I sent the leftovers along with Maggie.

Maggie got the idea to make lavender lemonade: She used several lemons from my tree, and dried lavender flowers I had sitting on the kitchen counter. It was just the right amount of sugar, and the nicest accent of lavender — yum! I sent her back to school with a few more lemons, and a lavender plant in a pot, for her balcony. So it was a pretty lemony visit all around, with plenty of sweetness to bring out the flavor.

Joaquin Sorolla, My Wife and Daughters in the Garden