Soup Night (3 page)

Originally — before I discovered all the other wonderful groups around the country — this book started out to be just about Stanton Street. Because I had the opportunity to talk at length with all the Stanton Street families (adults and children), I can share with you their very eloquent statements about what Soup Night means to them. But I know for certain that none of these good people would ever think of themselves as special, or want me to portray them that way. As you meet other Soup Nighters later in the book, you will see that, to a remarkable extent, they express the same sentiments, often in almost the exact same words. If I seem to offer more details about Stanton Street, the Soup Night that I know best, it’s simply by way of presenting a model, something that can be duplicated in any town anywhere in the country. If you should be inspired to start a Soup Night in your own neighborhood — my fondest wish — the ideas described here will give you a good starting point.

Soup Night is incredibly important to the kids on the block and they don’t even know it yet. Right now it’s just a big party to them. But they are seeing how adults can behave cooperatively. And that’s a great thing to grow up with.

— John

I know you want to get right to the recipes — don’t worry, this is a short chapter. Here I pulled together some general comments and tips about making soup, so I wouldn’t bore you by repeating them over and over later on. Some of these ideas may already be in your repertoire, but I hope you’ll find a few new things too.

You already know many of the wonderful things about soup:

It’s healthy.
With a strong reliance on vegetables and protein-rich legumes like beans and lentils, relatively small amounts of meat, and almost no fat, soup is a nutrition lollapalooza. It’s also a great way to sneak veggies into kids’ diets.

It’s inexpensive.
Soup is a particularly delicious way to feed lots of people.

It’s easy.
Sophisticated culinary techniques are not needed. In fact, I can hardly think of any soup recipe that requires a special skill; many can be prepared by children (assuming an adult supervises the knife work).

It’s versatile.
Soup for lunch. Soup for supper. Soup for a crowd. Soup for a party. Soup for unexpected visitors — I’m betting you can create something delicious from your pantry and fridge in short order.

It’s easy to expand.
The recipes in this book are planned for 6 to 8 servings, because I know you’ll want to make some for your regular family meals. But almost all of them — almost all soups, really — can easily be expanded to feed a crowd. You may not always want to double the amount of the more expensive ingredients (and it hardly ever matters), and you probably should increase the spices and herbs incrementally, tasting as you go, but in other respects, just double or triple the ingredients. In fact, even if you’re not cooking for a crowd, you might want to make a double batch and freeze half. If you do, here’s a tip from Sonia in Portland (
page 81
): “Separate the solids from the liquids before freezing. When reheating, start with the liquids, and then add the solids. This prevents the solids from getting overcooked.”

It’s a great use for leftovers.
A little bit of pot roast, a cupful of mashed potatoes, half a zucchini, two tomatoes that won’t last another day . . . just about anything can be the start of a wonderful soup. Just add imagination, and stir.

It’s forgiving.
Precise measurements hardly ever matter. In fact, many great cooks don’t even bother.

It’s flexible.
Soup nicely lends itself to improvisation. Don’t have kale? Use spinach. Weather unexpectedly warm? Many hot soups are also good cold. Don’t like something? Leave it out. I confess — I cannot abide the taste of cooked celery, so when it shows up in any recipe I just ignore it. And you can turn just about any vegetable into a nutritious soup in a jiffy; for example, see Cream of Anything Green Soup (
page 32
).

It’s easy to convert for vegetarians.
Leave out the meat and substitute vegetable broth or plain water for the stock.

It’s delicious.

It warms your soul.
For all the above reasons, plus one more: it makes tangible the many meanings of “community.” Read Martha Bayne’s eloquent note about the “community-built nature of soup” (
page 140
).

I’m guessing that you already have on hand many of the staples — such as onions, garlic, and olive oil — for making soup on the spur of the moment. Check over this list for ingredients you might not have thought of:

• Canned beans
  of all kinds (and see
  page 27
  for the alternative: dried beans)
  
• Lentils
  
• Quinoa, bulgur wheat, and other filling grains
  
• Canned tomatoes:
  diced, whole, stewed, with chiles, with basil and garlic, etc.
  
• Cream-style corn
  (if you’re worried about dairy products, it doesn’t contain actual cream)
  
• Dried pastas in small shapes:
  orzo, shells, elbows, radiatore, penne, rotini, alphabet
  
• Pesto
  in a jar or tube (refrigerate after opening)
  
• Good-quality bouillon
  (I am very fond of a product called Better Than Bouillon. It’s a paste that comes in a jar, highly concentrated, and lasts forever. And what I especially like is that the first ingredient on the label is what you would want to see listed first: chicken, beef, vegetables, turkey, etc. — not salt! Refrigerate after opening.)
  
• Canned broth:
  chicken, beef, vegetable; search out reduced-sodium varieties
  
• Roasted peppers
  in a jar
  
• Bacon bits
  
• Canned tuna, clams, crabmeat
  
• Canned green chiles
  
• Sun-dried tomatoes
  
• Tomato spread
  intended for bruschetta (adds a strong tomato punch to soup; refrigerate after opening)
  
• Tapenade
  in a jar (refrigerate after opening)
  

In addition to the pantry, look to your fridge. Several staples that need refrigeration will help you make a delicious impromptu soup. Here are a few I try always to keep on hand:

• Nonfat sour cream.
  It’s real sour cream, but made from nonfat milk, so it’s lower in calories. One big spoonful stirred in at the end adds amazing creaminess. One small container lasts a long time, even opened.
  
• Fresh lemons.
  A splash of lemon juice brightens the flavor of many foods, and almost all soups benefit from a squeeze. I keep bottled lemon juice on hand for emergencies, but frankly it’s a very poor second best.
  
• Fresh limes.
  For many things, I like lime juice even better than lemon. It has that lovely citrus sparkle but with a slight undertone of sweetness. Wonderful in fruit soups, for instance.
  
• Cheese.
  Any type of hard cheese, grated right on top of the soup in the bowl, adds immensely to the flavor. I especially like Parmesan, but many others work equally well.
  

And of course we haven’t said anything about herbs and spices. But that’s another book, and I’m sure you have a good selection in your cupboards, ready to explore.

People who like to make soup tend to be especially ingenious and resourceful. Here are a few shortcuts, to go with the ones you no doubt have already discovered:

• Bread cubes intended for stuffing can be croutons in a pinch.
  
• Baking mix (like Bisquick) makes dumplings in a jiffy.
  
• The salad bar in your supermarket is a good place to find vegetables ready to go.
  
• Rotisserie chicken from the supermarket — not only for the meat but also a source for stock.
  
• Frozen hash browns can take the place of russet potatoes, eliminating the peel/dice/shred steps.
  

True to the improvisational nature of soup, the stock that serves as its liquid basis is very much a product of a cook’s ingenuity and thriftiness, more than it is of a specific recipe. I know that will seem heretical to some serious chefs, those folks who purchase veal bones just for stock, for instance. Instead, let’s talk about what you can easily and realistically do.

When you work with fresh vegetables, save the trimmings.
Carrot scrapings, potato peels, the leafy tops of celery, the stalks of broccoli, leek tops (leaves), onion peels — all that stuff. Toss them around in a bowl with a small amount of olive oil and roast in a 4000F oven for about 10 minutes. Run the whole thing through your blender with a little water, strain, and freeze. Don’t forget to label. Do this a few times, and you have the basis for a wonderful vegetarian stock.

For any entrée that starts with a cut of meat that has bones, cut away the bones first.
Sauté them in vegetable oil until very well browned, then add water (or tomato juice, or wine, or a mixture) and a couple of bay leaves and simmer for at least an hour (a slow cooker works well here). Strain off and reserve the liquid, set it in the refrigerator until cool, and remove the fat after it congeals on the top.

Roasting a chicken or turkey for dinner?
Not making gravy? After removing the bird, add water to the pan, scrape up the bits from the bottom, and simmer for about half an hour. Strain, cool, and skim off the congealed fat.

Those rotisserie chickens from the supermarket,
so very handy for a quick supper, also have the makings of a great soup stock. Remove the skin, the bones, and the juices that have collected in the bottom of the container, and put them all into a soup pot with water to cover. Add some whole spices (bay leaves, cardamom, or your own favorite), a smashed clove of garlic, or a bouquet garni of fresh herbs (see below), and simmer for about an hour. Strain and discard all the solids, refrigerate, and skim off the congealed fat.

To flavor all these, add your own favorite spices and herbs.
If you want stock that is completely clear when it is finished, rather than speckled with bits of green or brown, use one of the following techniques to contain the spices:

• For fresh herbs, a simple bouquet garni is made by tying whole sprigs of herbs together with kitchen twine. Or fold fresh herbs into a square of cheesecloth, which you then tie with twine.
  
• Whole spices are almost certain to be more flavorful than the ground versions that may have been in your cupboard too long. To release their goodness, crush lightly with the bottom of a glass or the flat side of a knife, and then place them into one of those screw-together metal balls meant for brewing tea.