Soups, Stocks + Sauces – Page 7 – Writing With My Mouth Full

Hearty Lentil Soup

In Michael Pollan’s latest book, In Defense of Food, he summarizes his lecture on the first page: Eat food. Not too much. Mostly greens.

I love greens, but I also love all kinds of meat. And you know how I feel about bacon, right? But there are days when I do crave vegetable-only dishes. I run to Joe’s Shanghai for their baby bok choy flash-fried in garlic and hot oil. I go to Snack for their artichoke salad sans the chicken. Sometimes, I even go to my local deli’s make-your-own-salad counter and pick from the available ingredients just to get my fix. And when I eat my meat, there’s always a side that involves a vegetable.

You can use almost any kind of greens here. I used Chinese spinach because that’s what I had in the fridge. Regular spinach, watercress or bok choy will do, too. They key is to simmer everything for a long time, so that the broth thickens with all the carrot and celery goodness. You’ll get more of the lentils’ earthy taste in the end. If you can deal with the extra work, use a hand blender and purÃ©e the entire batch before serving.

When they’ve cooled down, transfer leftovers in quart containers and store in your freezer for up to two weeks. You can just thaw and heat one up when you want another serving of hearty lentil soup.

2 1/2 cups of lentils, rinsed
4 stalks of celery, chopped
1 bag of baby carrots, halved
1 bunch of greens
vegetable broth
1 tomato, quartered
1 red onion, thinly sliced
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 tbsp of coriander, toasted, grounded
1 tbsp of cumin, toasted, grounded
1 tbsp of cardamom, toasted, grounded
salt, pepper, oil

1. In a large Dutch oven, heat some olive oil. SautÃ© garlic and onions. Add the carrots and celery and cook until glistening, about 8 minutes. Add the lentils, tomato and the spices to combine. Add enough broth to cover.
2. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat. Cover and simmer until lentils are tender, about 40 minutes to an hour. Season with salt and pepper before serving.

Rack of Lamb with Apricot-Lime Chutney

We went crazy in Central Market when we were in Austin. Every produce aisle should look like theirs. After Cameron pushed the cart to pick up the ingredients she needed for her salads, we bought a $50 rack of lamb. I knew I wanted something savory for our New Year’s Eve dinner, so I went to the spice aisle and happily weighed some loose curry powder and bought it for 45 cents. With iPhone on hand, I Googled a chutney to match the Indian flavor. Because we were expecting a couple to join us for dinner to make us five, I wanted to do something low key as well. In fact, I was able to prepare the lamb in between courses; only the chutney was done before our guests came in. Cameron’s spinach salad peppered with blueberries, cranberries and almonds and roasted fingerling Peruvian potatoes were nice sides with this.

Ingredients:
rack of lamb
garlic cloves, minced
a small knob of ginger, peeled, thinly sliced
curry powder
salt, pepper, oil

For the apricot-lime chutney:
6 fresh apricots, pitted, chopped
juice from a lime
lime zest
honey
a small knob of ginger, peeled, thinly sliced

1. Preheat oven to 350Âº. Make small slits all over the lamb using a sharp knife. Insert garlic and ginger. Cover the rack of lamb with the spices and let sit for half an hour or until ready to cook.
2. Place all chutney ingredients in a saucepan, add water and bring to a boil. Lower heat to simmer and cook for 30 minutes. Stir occasionally. Add a little water if it begins to dry when simmering. Allow to cool before serving.
3. Using an oven-safe frying pan, brown one side of the rack in hot oil. Transfer in the oven and cook for 25 minutes or until medium-rare. Let rest on a wooden block to finish cooking before slicing and serving.

Mandu Gook, Korean Soup with Dumplings

I had a dozen dumplings in the freezer and a cold, so I could only think of making myself a big bowl of hot and spicy soup to combat the sniffles. I was too lazy to go anywhere to buy ingredients. I had to make do with whatever I could rummage in the pantry. Arugula? Check. Baby carrots? Check. Cabbage? Oooh, check. I found a small jar of dashi to make the broth taste like miso, and of course, there is a jar of kochujang paste to make it spicier.

Koreans call dumplings mandu. Included in a soup using clear broth, it becomes mandu gook. Most restaurant mandu gooks come with rice cakes, or dduk, and therefore called dduk mandu gook. And that’s enough Korean lesson for today. Here’s my Filipino version of the soup that helped keep the medicine away.

Ingredients:
12 dumplings, thawed if frozen
8 dduk, thawed if frozen
a small wedge of cabbage, roughly chopped
a handful of baby carrots
a handful of arugula
1 shallot, halved
1 tbsp kochujang paste
2 tbsps dashi granules
1 tsp sesame seeds, toasted
salt

1. In a stock pot, boil 8 cups of water with the dashi and the shallot. Turn the heat to medium-low when boiling and add the vegetables until the carrots are tender.
2. During the last ten minutes of cooking, add the dduk and the dumplings to soften. Season to taste with salt and kochujang paste.

Subanik, Guatemalan Stew

Who’s in the kitchen? I asked the bartenders in La Lancha restaurant after only my second meal during my trip to Guatemala. Ezekiel, they said. He’s been the chef here at La Lancha. I wanted Ezekiel to know that I liked what he had been serving the past two days. While traveling Central America, I’ve had the same fried fish, roasted chicken, rice and plantains in every country. There’s nothing wrong with an honest meal, of course, but it was refreshing to eat something traditional that was executed so well. I was checked-in a resort, but the food did not taste like something for a corporate meeting and the menu certainly did not come with the word “fusion” in it.

I’ve had Ezekiel’s rolled-up tortilla with ground pork and beef and smothered with tomato salsa. I’ve had his chiles rellenos, or stuffed peppers; his fish fillet with coriander sauce was equally tasty and flavorful. It was during the third night that I ordered what Guatemalans call subanik, also known as “God’s meal” in the La Lancha menu, simply because it is a bowl of everything. It was the perfect bowl of hot reddish-orange broth, made better with the rice I mixed in. I couldn’t help but order it again for my last night’s dinner.

When I checked out of my room the next morning, the man himself, Ezekiel, stepped out of the kitchen with the recipe written on a piece of paper. I translated his notes out loud to make sure I understood and he showed me how the peppers that are crucial to the subanik broth look like. He showed me a large dried black pepper and a skinnier one that was dark red. They looked familiar to me because I have seen them in the Spanish aisle of my neighborhood supermarket. I couldn’t wait to buy them and try the recipe at home.

Back in New York, I found and bought guaque and ancho chiles in $1.50 packets. Guaque chiles are larger than jalapeÃ±os but have the same level of spiciness. Poblano chiles are slightly spicier than bell peppers and become the more familiar ancho, or wide, when dried because of its new shape. I had some leftover dried pimento peppers in the cupboard, so I decided that adding a third variety can’t hurt. They key to subanik broth is to simmer the chiles with tomatoes and tomatillos, those green tomatoes that come with an onion-paper skin. Toasted sesame and pumpkin seeds only add to the smoky flavor of the soup.

Feel free to add almost anything to your version. For my first, I used chicken and leftover turkey meat and skipped the vegetables. For my second, I skipped the meats entirely and just added the vegetables towards the end. I’ve tried both kaffir and mint leaves and found either worked well, as long as you have fresh lime juice to serve.

Ingredients:
2 dried ancho chiles
2 dried guaque chiles
2 dried pimento peppers
4 tomatillos
5 red tomatoes
1 tbsp sesame seeds, toasted
1 tbsp pumpkin seeds, toasted
1 zucchini, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
2 stalks of celery, chopped
2 pieces of chicken breast, sliced in small chunks
1 cup of stewing beef chunks
1 cup rice
fresh lime juice
half a bunch of cilantro leaves
mint leaves
salt

1. In a large Dutch oven, boil 10 cups of water with the chiles and the tomatoes. When the water boils, turn the heat down to a medium simmer. Add the cilantro, mint leaves, sesame and pumpkin seeds and cook for about an hour, uncovered. The tomatoes will swell and eventually soften. Gently smash them with the back of a spatula. The broth will be almost black when it’s ready.
2. Using a slotted spoon, scoop the chiles and tomatoes into a food processor and purÃ©e. Strain the remaining broth to another container to remove the chile seeds. Return the strained broth and the purÃ©e to the Dutch oven and continue to simmer.
3. Add the rice to the tomato-chile broth. Stir occasionally to cook the rice. After about 10 minutes, add the carrots, celery and chicken. When the vegetables are halfway done, add the beef and the zucchini. Cook until zucchini is tender. Ladle into bowls and serve with a squirt of lime juice and a sprinkle of sesame seeds.

Pork Sinigang, Filipino Sour Soup

What would be your last meal on death row? It took me a while to answer that question, but the more I eat pork sinigang, the more I stick with it as the last thing I want to eat before I go. It’s my comfort food and it’s the dish I request from my father when I return from a trip. If you ask the Dr., it’s also his favorite Filipino food.

Back in the Philippines, I grew up eating it many ways. The only requirement is its sour taste, but the sourness always depended on where the cook was from. The most familiar to me is using tamarinds. We had a tree in the backyard and the tamarinds would be simmered in a pot to make the sinigang broth. Kamias, or bilimbi, was also used by squeezing them and straining the juice. Nowadays, though, Knorr makes the soup base with the concentrated flavor of the tamarind. They sell for 80 cents in Chinatown stores. I like this dish best when the sourness hits the back of my ears and my left eye uncontrollably closes, so I usually end up using the entire packet. I add a Serrano pepper towards the end to give it an extra kick.

As for the vegetables in sinigang, Filipinos use kang kong–called swamp cabbage or water spinach in Chinatown–but you can certainly use other vegetables that don’t have a bitter taste. Broccoli and long string beans, or sitaw, are easy. Okra is also good, as well as daikon radish and eggplant. I’ve tried daffodil leaves but they didn’t work.

Using a crock pot allows you to slow-cook your spareribs without paying attention to them. Leave it overnight or cook it while you’re at work. Eight hours will leave you with meat falling off the bones. My way is to slow-cook in a Dutch oven for at least an hour and a half, removing impurities that rise to the top using a ladle. Filipinos love their pressure cookers, but those things scare me. Besides, I like taking my time when I cook.

Ingredients:
6 spareribs
1 packet Knorr Tamarind soup base
1 tomato, halved
1 red onion, quartered
1 green Serrano pepper, cut in two
1 bunch kang kong
2 small eggplants
1 small daikon radish
salt

1. Use a Dutch oven with enough water to cover the spareribs and simmer for at least two hours. Remove impurities that float to the top.
2. When spareribs are ready, bring to a boil and add tomato and onion. Simmer until tomato is bruised. Add the vegetables and cook until tender. If using eggplant and okra, add them last to avoid overcooking.
3. Add tamarind soup base and salt to taste. Saltiness and sourness should be balanced. The vegetables will tone down the taste. Throw in the pepper before turning off the heat.