Red Lentil and Vegetable Curry Stew

A friend of ours lost her husband on Friday. I spent most of Mother's Day weekend in a haze of disbelief. Living our day to day lives, with our overwhelmingly hectic schedules, we easily forget how fragile life is; how what should be our allotted time here isn't exactly guaranteed. After hearing the news, I desperately felt the need to latch on to my family and never let them go. If I could somehow mange to not part with them ever, then I could keep them both safe and out of harm's way always. Everything would be Ok as long as I held on tight for dear life. In the days since, I've slowly been stepping back, remembering that the beauty of now must always overpower the worry of what might be. A part of me is looking forward to being distracted by the day to day again. Not because I take this life for granted, but because I know that the distraction means that the hurt has been lifted from our hearts and that we are in the process of healing. I look forward to my friend and her young son finding the distraction, too. 

I wasn't going to post this week, but I am a firm believer that food helps to heal even the most shattered of hearts. Of course, a pot of soup won't erase the tremendous void we feel when we lose the ones we love the most, but keeping ourselves nourished is important in fighting the uphill battle that is loss. Food helps bring us closer to others when they or we need it the most, and it is usually eternally tied to some of our fondest memories. Food is one of the few things we all share that aides us to persevere in more ways than one.

Red Lentil and Vegetable Curry Stew

1 large shallot, chopped

2 carrots, chopped

1 c. of sliced cremini mushrooms

2 cloves of garlic, sliced or minced

1 tsp. of curry powder

1 c. of red lentils

1 1/2 c. of chopped potatoes (any variety) 

1/2 c. of strained tomatoes

7 c. of chicken or veggie broth

small bunch of whole cilantro stems

2 large handfuls of baby spinach, chopped

olive oil

salt + pepper

Sauté your shallot, carrots, and mushrooms in some oil until they just start to caramelize. Add the garlic and curry powder and cook for another minute. Pour in the broth, along with the lentils, potatoes, strained tomatoes, and cilantro stems. Bring to a boil and then lower to a simmer, partially covered. Stir occasionally until the lentils are soft and cooked through (roughly 30-40 minutes). Remove and discard your cilantro stems. Add your chopped spinach and continue simmering until the spinach is wilted (roughly 3-5 minutes). Season to taste and serve. 

Serves 4-6

Chorizo, Broccoli + Chèvre Chowder

After 4 1/2 years of living in the Bay Area, I've learned that traditional weather patterns and seasons mean absolutely nothing here. Having moved up from LA, where really only summer and fall exist, I was excited to have months upon months of cold and foggy mornings that led into rainy and stormy afternoons. This year however, winter seemed to skip Northern California entirely. As the rest of the country suffered through the polar vortex, we were spending our days in short-sleeved shirts, dying for even just a few droplets of precipitation. By February, my skin was so scaly that I was sure I had morphed into a reptile. We waited and waited, and tried to stay optimistic, but nothing came. When the asparagus and strawberries started popping up at markets months before they were due, my heart sank for my beloved home state. 

And then somehwere in the middle of March, the rain finally came. For two weeks it felt as if buckets were being poured from the sky. We spent most of those days inside, gazing out our windows in amazement. It wasn't enough to repair the damage that had already been done, but it was something and it felt like not all hope had been lost. It rained again a teensy bit earlier in the week, and not knowing if this could possibly be the last of it, I figured I'd make some chowder before summer's official arrival. Chowder and rain are as good a match as peanut butter and jelly; it really doesn't get much better.

Maybe it's because I grew up eating the stuff, but man do I have a special place in my heart (or, stomach) for Mexican chorizo. Before this post a few years back, the purist in me had never even thought to use it in anything other than refried beans or scrambled eggs. That one little mistake opened me up to a whole new world of possibilities. Mexican chorizo is great for so much more than just beans and eggs! If you live in Oakland and you've been here, then you know that the stuff was practically MADE for a big old pot of mac n' cheese. I've been on a mission to incorporate it in a variety of recipes ever since. And in this batch of chowder, it most definitely did not disappoint. 

Chorizo, Broccoli + Chèvre Chowder

1/2 lb. of quality ground Mexican Chorizo

1 large shallot, chopped

2 large cloves of garlic, chopped

6 broccolini stalks, chopped (you can use regular broccoli, this is just what I had on hand)

2 large red potatoes, chopped

4 c. of chicken stock

1/2 c. of heavy cream

2-3 tbsp. of crumbled Chèvre (depending on how goat-y you want it, you can always add more)

2 tbsp. of chopped Italian parsley

Olive Oil 

Salt + Pepper

Brown your chorizo in a small amount of Olive Oil (chorizo is quite fatty, so you don't need to add too much oil). Once it's cooked, remove the meat from the pot, reserving the oil. Sauté your shallot, garlic and broccolini in the reserved oil on medium-low heat until the veg starts to caramelize a bit. Add your stock and potatoes, and simmer until both the potatoes and broccolini are fork tender. Make sure not to take this step too far because overcooked broccoli is disgusting. Take half of your soup and puree it in a food processor. Add the pureed half back to your pot and mix both batches together. Of course, if you like a smoother chowder, you can puree all of the soup. Add the chorizo back to the pot, along with the chopped parsley and heavy cream. Finish it off with your chèvre, giving it a slight stir. Season to taste.

Quick note: Traditionally, a roux is used to thicken chowders. That could certainly be done with this soup and would in no way impair it, but I find that potatoes are starchy enough to do the trick. 

Saffron Farro + Lentil Stew with Creme Fraîche and Toasted Almonds

In my quest to fill our pantry with an endless array of gluten-free options, I stupidly brought home a pound of farro last week. I've been a fan of farro for years, so I felt like a total ass when I realized that I knew very little about it. I do know that at some point in time I heard someone mention "farro" and "gluten-free" in the same sentence, and I just went with it. I figured if buckwheat was safe (which, I've just learned isn't actually a wheat), then why couldn't emmer wheat apply to the same principles? I swear I'm not an idiot, guys, but I am still very new to this. When you go from a life of zero dietary restrictions to all of a sudden having one very big and significant dietary restriction, well, it's really not as simple as one would think. 

It was all good and fine, though. Like I mentioned, Cheech and I are still consumers of gluten. I had bought the farro specifically to use for soups, and she and I are the bigger soup-eaters in the house anyway. If you do happen to be gluten-free, this soup would be just as delightful if you substituted any type of rice, or even skipped out on the grain and doubled up on the lentils.

Many chefs believe that if you can taste saffron in a dish, then too much saffron was used. Although I wholeheartedly understand their angle, I do think that that's taking the idea a little too far. You need very little saffron to get your point across, but if I'm going to be using the most expensive ingredient on the market, you better believe I want to taste it. There's a fine line, however. Too much of a good thing is never good, and too much saffron can lead to a very medicinal flavor in your food. The golden rule in cooking (and in life, I suppose) is that you can always add more, but you can never take away. Start with the tiniest amount, and slowly build up. For this recipe, I used half of what is pictured in the photo above, so about 10 strands. 

Saffron Farro + Lentil Stew with Creme Fraîche and Toasted Almonds

1 large shallot, diced

2 medium carrots, diced

1 large clove of garlic, diced

1/2 c. of lentils

1/2 c. of farro

1/2 c. of white wine

1/2 c. of tomato sauce

4 1/2 c. of stock (chicken or veggie)

saffron

creme fraîche

handful of almonds, toasted and chopped

olive oil

salt + pepper

Sauté your shallots and carrots in some oil until the shallots start to become translucent. Add your garlic and sauté for a minute or two more. Add the wine and let all of the liquid cook out. Pour in your tomato sauce and your broth, along with your lentils. Bring to a boil, then lower to a simmer. Cook with a lid partially covering your pot for 20 minutes. Add the farro and saffron. Replace the lid as it was, and cook for another 20 minutes. If your liquid levels are looking very low, feel free to add a little more stock. Season to taste and ladle into bowls, topping each with a spoonful of creme fraîche, a few toasted almonds, and a drizzle of olive oil. Serves 4.

Asparagus + Pesto Minestrone with a Poached Egg

Here's the truth: I've been staring at my screen for approximately 20 minutes with a hundred thoughts running through my head. It seems as if I've forgotten how to do this. How peculiar, considering I did it for years and it's been not even 5 months since I did it last. If you're coming from here, then you should know first and foremost that this blog has very little to do with that blog. That blog broke. It broke a very long time ago, but I was too proud?, embarrassed?, confused? to admit it to everyone, but mostly myself. It felt so incredibly good when I finally did. It was not unlike parting ways with a boyfriend or girlfriend that you should have parted ways with long, long ago. It's not easy coming to terms with the fact that you're beginning to head in different directions. But in the end, once you've ripped the bandaid off, it's nice to look back fondly on the good times and look ahead, unattached, on what could possibly be better times.

So, yes, I was over my boyfriend. Turns out though, that there's a lot I've missed. I've missed writing. I've missed the community and my friends. I've missed the discipline and forcing my brain to work (when you're the parent of a toddler, your brain literally comes to a complete halt). Truth be told, I have toyed with the idea of starting a food blog for a few years… but who needs another fucking food blog, amiright? So I bounced a few food blog-type ideas back and forth in my head for a while, and always came back to Soup Club. Of all the things I missed, for whatever reason, I REALLY missed Soup Club. And that's the story of how I ended up here. It might take some time to get my sea legs, so just bear with me. 

Let's do this! I'll be posting more than just soup here, but considering the name of the blog, not going with soup for my first post seemed plain stupid. I'm quite fond of minestrone because it seems that there is not one, single way to make it. I wouldn't be surprised if "minestrone" was Italian for "throw a whole bunch of shit in a pot". The sky truly is the limit here, so I'll always be happy making a new variation of this classic. I had some asparagus that needed to be used sooner than later, and seeing as those green spears aren't exactly cheap, I figured I'd make them stretch by adding them to a giant pot of soup. The result was a light and earthy minestrone that was perfect for a semi-warm Spring day.

Asparagus + Pesto Minestrone with a Poached Egg

1 large shallot, chopped

1 large carrot, chopped

1 large garlic clove, thinly sliced

1/2 c. of white wine

3 c. of chicken stock
1 c. of cannellini beans, cooked and drained
1 c. of grape or cherry tomatoes, halved
5-6 asparagus spears, chopped into rounds
pesto*
4 eggs, poached (do this at the very last minute)
olive oil
salt + pepper

Saute your chopped shallot and carrots in some olive oil on medium heat until the shallots start to become translucent. Add your garlic and sauté for a minute or two more. Pour in your white wine and let it simmer until all the liquid has evaporated (see image below). Add your stock and cooked beans, and bring to a simmer. Next, throw in your halved tomatoes and chopped asparagus. Simmer until the asparagus is fork tender, but still has a bite to it. If your liquid level appears to be low, feel free to add a little more stock. Season to your liking.

Ladle soup into bowls and top with one poached egg each, and a spoonful of pesto.

*A quick note on pesto: Giving you a recipe for pesto feels a little too amateur hour for me, so I made the executive decision to skip it. At this point, even if you've never made pesto, I think it's pretty clear to most people (especially those who are reading food blogs) that pesto is comprised of basil, parmesan, garlic, either pine nuts or walnuts, and some olive oil. Maybe it makes me a jerk, but writing a pesto recipe is just too much like writing an avocado toast recipe. All I'm saying is, I know you guys are better than that.