Read An Exaltation of Soups Online
Authors: Patricia Solley
O
NCE UPON A TIME
, feasts were traditionally served by families to celebrate a child’s confirmation of baptism and entry into the life of the church—and such celebrations often included soup. In today’s hectic world, alas, these elaborate feasts have largely gone by the wayside.
Klarsuppe
, however, remains an exception. And no wonder. This Danish meatball and dumpling soup is a honey: very tasty, very pretty, and with a great contrast of textures, taking advantage of the sweet baby vegetables of spring, the time when thirteen-year-olds are traditionally welcomed into the Danish church.
The recipe on the following page, adapted from Beatrice Ojakangas’s
Scandinavian Feasts
, is designed to feed a small party, but it can easily be doubled or halved to accommodate your guest list.
Serves 8
I
MAGINE A SOUP
plate brimming with a pure, clear beef broth, then mentally fill it with buttery dumplings and tiny meatballs, accented by bits of carrots and sweet baby peas. It may look complicated to make, but in fact it isn’t. You just need to make the dumplings and meatballs a bit in advance, then it’s a snap to assemble at the last minute … like, if you’re rushing in from church after witnessing the confirmation of your thirteen-year-old daughter.
F
OR THE MEATBALLS
½ pound pork filet, trimmed of fat and partially frozen for easy grinding (other meats are also fine)
½ cup finely chopped onion
1 teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
¼ teaspoon ground allspice
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons milk
1 egg white, lightly beaten (save the yolk for the dumplings)
F
OR THE DUMPLINGS
½ cup (1 stick) butter
1 cup water
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 eggs plus the leftover egg yolk
F
OR THE SOUP
8 cups (2 quarts) Beef Stock
½ cup peeled and diced carrots (about the size of the baby peas)
½ cup baby peas
Chopped fresh chervil (or tarragon or parsley), for garnish
F
OR THE MEATBALLS
1. Grind the meat in a food processor until finely cut (you can also ask your butcher to grind the meat, or you can cut it by hand). Put it into a bowl, stir in the onion, and season with salt, pepper, and allspice.
2. In a small cup, beat the flour and milk together, then stir into the meat. Finally, mix in the egg white. Let sit for at least 30 minutes.
3. When you are ready to cook the meatballs, bring 2 inches of water to a boil in a large, wide pot over medium-high heat. Season liberally with salt.
4. With a teaspoon, shape and drop 40 small meatballs into the boiling water and let cook for 4 to 5 minutes. Strain with a perforated spoon, let drain in a sieve until dry, then store in the refrigerator until needed.
F
OR THE DUMPLINGS
1. In a small saucepan, bring the butter, water, and salt to a boil over medium-high heat. Pour in the flour all at once and stir hard with a wooden spoon, until the mass is smooth and forms a ball that peels off the sides of the pot. Remove from the heat and let cool for 10 minutes.
2. Bring 2 inches of water in a large, wide pot to a boil over medium-high heat and season well with salt.
3. After the dumpling dough has cooled, beat in the eggs and egg yolk, one at a time, until the dough is satiny.
4. When the water is at a medium boil, use two small spoons to make and drop 40 dumplings into the water.
5. When you have finished dropping the dumplings into the water and the water again begins to boil, pour about ¼ cup of cold water into the pot to stop the boiling. When it comes to a strong
boil again, pour in another bit of cold water. And, again, for the third time, pour in cold water when it returns to strong boil. At this point, the dumplings should be firm and completely cooked. Lift them out of the water with a perforated spoon and let them drain in a sieve. When they are completely drained, you may store them in the refrigerator until needed.
6. When you are ready to finalize the soup, take the dumplings and meatballs out of the refrigerator and put them in a warm spot. They should be room temperature when you are ready to assemble the soup.
Bring the stock to a boil over medium-high heat in a large soup pot and stir in the carrots. Cook for 5 minutes, then add the baby peas. Cook for 5 more minutes.
Set out the soup bowls and arrange five meatballs and five dumplings in each. When the soup is ready, ladle some into each of the bowls and top with chopped chervil. Serve immediately.
F
RETTY
C
HERVIL
Originally a native of western Asia, chervil was first cultivated in Syria, according to Pliny the Elder, where its roots and leaves were eaten raw and also cooked as a vegetable. It got its name in Greece, from
chaerophyllon
, “herb of rejoicing.” And it was spread far and wide by the Romans, who planted it near all their many camps throughout the Roman Empire to use as a flavoring herb. John Parkinson says about it in his 1629
Paradisus:
“Sweet Chervil or Sweet Cis is so like in taste unto Anis seede that it much delighteth the taste among other herbs in a sallet.” The English poet Gerard Manley Hopkins, in frustration with God, begs Him to water
his
roots the way He lavishes water on “fretty chervil.”
O
NCE UPON A TIME
, there were no June brides, nor May ones either, at least in the Northern Hemisphere. Why? Because in agrarian societies there was work to be done then, planting and cultivating the fields. Back in ancient Roman times, Ovid noted,
“Mense malum Maio nubvero vulgus ait,”
or, “Common folk say ’tis ill to wed in May.” Then, again, in medieval times, it was thought that “they that wive between sickle and scythe, shall never thrive.”
Weddings back then were for fall and winter, after the harvest was in—which is likely why hot wedding soups became traditional fare in many cultures. Baby, it was cold outside … and dark. Granaries were full; animals were back in the barn. Bachelors and maids alike turned their thoughts toward domestic comforts. In China, marriage was thought best at the first new moon of the year. In ancient Greece and Italy, it was winter or late autumn. In Japan, the best times were the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth lunar months. In England and Germany, it was at the harvest moon, and in Scotland and Ireland, “Marry when the year is new,/Always loving, always true.”
These old customs are hardly remembered in today’s age of industrialized agriculture and global agritrade. June weddings now seem more natural, often following school graduations and signaling the beginning of the work life. But traditional wedding soups continue to be brought steaming to the table, no matter what the temperature outside.
The recipes that follow are offered in portions for six to eight people, to suit a small wedding party. They can, however, be doubled—or halved—as appropriate.
R
IDDLE
M
E
T
HIS
Q
UESTION
: What fastens two people together but touches only one?
Serves 6 to 8
T
HIS SWEET SOUP
sends the bride and groom off to a sweet life—with the lotus seeds standing for the many babies the marriage will produce. The custom was perhaps most memorably enacted in Chinese film director Ang Lee’s charming and hilarious movie
Hsi Yen
, or
The Wedding Banquet
, where dutiful son Wai-Tung Gao, anxious to conceal his long-term relationship with Andrew from his parents, arranges a marriage of convenience in New York City with one of his female tenants, adorable Wei-Wei, who needs a green card. Mom and Dad arrive in ecstasy from Taiwan for the wedding and a two-week stay. Wai-Tung and Wei-Wei’s modest marriage plans almost immediately go stratospheric, ending in a completely over-the-top wedding and banquet.
8 cups (2 quarts) cold water
14-ounce package small red beans, washed to remove grit and drained
1½-ounce package lotus seeds, washed and drained
1 piece dried tangerine skin, soaked in hot water 10 minutes until soft
¾ cup brown sugar
Prep the ingredients as directed in the recipe list.
1. In a large pot, combine the water, red beans, lotus seeds, and tangerine skin. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce the heat to low and simmer, partially covered, for about 1½ hours, or until the beans are tender (when you blow on them, the skins will burst).
2. Stir in the brown sugar and let simmer for another minute to let the flavors blend.
Remove the tangerine skin, then pour the soup into a heated tureen and bring to the table, to be ladled into exquisite little cups.
T
HE
S
OUP
R
ITUAL IN
A
NG
L
EE’S
H
SI
Y
EN
M
RS
. G
AU
: “Sister Mao, please get the lotus soup.”
[Wai-Tung and Wei-Wei bow three times to the parents and are handed an envelope.]
W
AI
-T
UNG
: “Thank you, Ma.”
W
EI
-W
EI
: “Thank you.”
M
RS
. G
AO
: “We’re turning Wai-Tung over to you.”
M
R
. G
AO
: “And you, Wai-Tung, must care well for Wei-Wei.”
W
AI
-T
UNG
: “I will.”
M
R
. G
AO
: “Here’s a soup for a quick first son.”
W
AI
-T
UNG
: “Wei-Wei, kneel for the soup.”
M
RS
. G
AO
: “Have some lotus soup; a son will come quickly.”
W
EI
-W
EI
: “Come on, Wai-Tung, kneel down and have some soup with me.”
W
AI
-T
UNG
: “Having a son is a female thing.”
M
RS
. G
AO
: “She can’t give birth without your help, right?”
[Mrs. Gao feeds Wei-Wei the soup, blowing on each spoonful. Wei-Wei bursts into tears and is led out of the room.]
It’s a miracle: by the end of the movie, Wei-Wei has conceived and Wai-Tung and Andrew can’t wait to become the proud fathers. It’s precisely what wedding soup is all about.