An Exaltation of Soups (38 page)
Read An Exaltation of Soups Online
Authors: Patricia Solley
4. Break the rested dumpling dough into four equal pieces and roll three of them between your palms or on a flat surface to make long snakes about ½ inch thick. Cut these into thin good-luck “coins,” sprinkle them with flour if they’re sticky, and set aside under the damp cloth.
5. Take the last piece of dough and roll it between your palms into a “snake” about 1 inch thick; pinch off nine balls of dough—you’ll
probably have dough left over that you can discard it or use it for another purpose. Roll each piece of dough out on a floured board into a thin 4-inch round, brush all around the edges of each one with the beaten egg, place one of the “fortunes” (see below) in the middle, then fold in half to make a half-moon and press with fork tines all around to seal. Turn each one over and press the fork tines all around the edges of the opposite side, too. Sprinkle with flour if they’re sticky and let rest briefly under the damp cloth.
5. In a separate large saucepan, bring a few inches of water to a boil over high heat, fit in a steamer basket, then place the dumplings in the basket, not touching, and steam for 10 to 12 minutes. Remove from the heat, use tongs to place them in a serving dish, cover, and set aside until serving time.
6. After the meat has cooked in the soup for 1 hour, return the soup to a boil over medium-high heat, adding water if necessary, and add the salt, daikon, peas, greens, and reserved dumpling coins. Boil for 8 minutes, until the dumpling coins are tender.
O
S
ERVE
Ladle soup into each bowl (they should be very small, if you expect your guest to eat nine bowlfuls), then ask your guests to pick out their “fortune
momo”
from the serving dish for you to place in their bowl.
T
ELLING
G
UTUK
F
ORTUNES AT
L
OSAR
Traditionally,
gutuk
is a thick soup made of things like dry cheese, radish, peas, highland barley, pasta bits, and beans, and brimming with little noodle coins and nine big doughy dumplings, or
momos
, stuffed with special “fortunes.” Interpretations vary, but salt in your dumpling generally means good luck for the coming year; wool, you’ll be lazy; coal, malicious; a pebble, long-lived; if it’s a hot pepper, you’ll be sharp-tongued; butter, very sweet; and sheep pellets? You might not want to eat them, but they signify you’ll be wise. Dumpling shapes are also important: round ones suggest the sun and a bright future; a rectangular “book” made of flour will bring good luck on exams and studies.
Gutuk
is eaten only once a year, at
Losar
on the night of the dark moon, and its very name means “nine,” deriving from the calendar, so that the soup must contain nine ingredients, including those nine “fortune” dumplings, and everyone present must eat nine bowls, saving the big dumpling for last. At meal’s end, after the dumplings have been opened amid general hilarity, all family members scrape the last spoonful of their last bowl of soup into a kettle with a piece of their clothing, a fingernail cutting, and some hair. Soot from the hearth is dumped on top and then all is crowned with a little dough human effigy. The kettle, with its “ransom” of last year’s evil, is then carried to a crossroads and set on fire, burning all negativity away before the advent of the New Year.
“U
NCLE
T
OMPA
M
AKES THE
K
ING
B
ARK
L
IKE A
D
OG
”
It was the first day of the Tibetan New Year. Everybody was busy celebrating. According to tradition, one member of each family must go to see their king with offerings, such as Tibetan breads, fruits, fabrics, and white scarves for good luck.
Uncle Tompa told everyone there that he could make the king bark like a dog on this occasion, but nobody believed him. “He won’t do that. It’s too inauspicious.” But Uncle promised that he would.
That whole day the king was busy receiving his people for the New Year’s greetings. The king was sitting on his throne wearing his most expensive clothes and crown. Many people were sitting down having a meal with him. All of a sudden the king saw Uncle Tompa rush in.
The king asked Uncle, “Where have you been all this time? You’re normally the first one here.”
Uncle said, “My lord! There was an outstandingly beautiful dog for sale. I was trying to buy it as a present for you.”
In Tibet dogs are judged by the strength of their barking, as well as by their appearance. So the king asked, “What does the dog sound like?”
Uncle made a sound just like a cat. “Meow, Meow!”
The king shook his head and exclaimed, “That’s not the sound of an outstanding dog. That sounds just like a cat!”
“My lord, what does a good dog sound like then?” Uncle Tompa asked curiously.
The king put his hands on the table in front of the throne. He stood up on all fours just like a dog and barked, “Woof! Woof! Woof!”
Everyone laughed at how Uncle Tompa’s trick had worked. In Tibet people think that to bark on New Year’s Day is horribly inauspicious. Discreetly, his people called him, “The Barking King.”
—R
INING
D
ORJE
,
twentieth-century Tibetan storyteller, from his T
ALES OF
U
NCLE
T
OMPA
, T
HE
L
EGENDARY
R
ASCAL OF
T
IBET
, 1997
NITED
S
TATES
HOPPIN’ JOHN SOUP
T
HE
O
RIGIN OF
B
LACK
-E
YED
P
EAS
In fact, it is shrouded in mystery. Some claim they began life in China; others, India, others, Africa—and this last claim is the most persuasive, as wild varieties of the plant can still be found there. The confusion arises because this bean was domesticated so early—perhaps by 3000
B.C.E
.—and spread across the ancient Afro-European and Asian worlds with early traders over sea routes and the Silk Road. The Spanish finally took it to America in the sixteenth century, but it was more widely introduced and dispersed there by African slaves, who brought with it their enduring tribal associations of good luck.
Serves 6 to 8
T
HIS “GOOD LUCK SOUP”
recipe is adapted from a Junior League of Women cookbook, vintage 1991 Jackson, Mississippi, that was brought to my attention by good friends Maggie and Josie Owens. The soup is excellent: smoky flavor punctuated by smooth beans, okra’s silken crunch, and the bite of hot chiles. It’s traditional to make it on December 31, so the flavors can blend, then to eat it sometime during the first day of the New Year with lots of hot buttered corn bread.
1 pound dried black-eyed peas (they don’t need to be soaked)
8 cups (2 quarts) Chicken Stock
1 ham hock
⅓ pound smoked ham, cut into ½-inch cubes
2 medium yellow onions, chopped
1 green bell pepper, seeded and chopped
1 celery stalk with leaves, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
3 dried whole chile peppers, or ½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 cups sliced fresh okra, or one 10-ounce package of frozen sliced okra, thawed
Salt to taste
O
P
REPARE
Prep the ingredients as directed in the recipe list.
O
C
OOK
1. Combine the black-eyed peas, stock, ham hock, ham cubes, onions, green pepper, celery, garlic, and chile peppers in a large soup pot. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring occasionally, then reduce the heat to low, cover the pot, and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 1 hour.
2. When the peas are tender, stir in the okra and salt, bring back to a boil over high heat, then reduce the heat to low again and simmer, covered, for 30 more minutes. The soup should be thickening and you should stir it frequently to prevent scorching. Remove the cover and cook, stirring, until creamy thick—as long as 10 minutes.
O
S
ERVE
If you plan to serve the soup immediately, remove the ham hock and chiles and ladle it into bowls. If you are saving it to serve later, let it cool in the pot, then refrigerate it. When you’re ready to serve the soup, reheat it carefully, stirring often, then ladle it into bowls, not forgetting to remove the ham hock and chile peppers.
H
OW THE
B
LACK
-E
YED
P
EA
G
OT ITS
B
LACK
E
YE
According to the Brothers Grimm, one day a piece of straw, a coal, and a white bean escaped into the wide world from an old woman’s hearth. Having escaped an untimely end there, they decided to keep together like good comrades and seek their fortune in another country. Off they went, until they came to a little stream that had neither path nor bridge. Finally the straw had an idea. “I’ll throw myself across and you can use me like a bridge, then pull me over too.” The coal and the bean congratulated the straw and said it was a fine idea. So the straw threw himself over and the coal, after initial hesitation, began to make his way across. “Oh, oh,” he cried when he was halfway over, “I’m so scared, I can’t move another step.” And he didn’t. So he burned right through the straw and they both fell into the water and came to an untimely end after all. The bean, who had remained on the bank, couldn’t help laughing over the whole business, and he laughed so hard that he split his side. Fortunately a tenderhearted tailor wandered by. He picked up the bean and mended him with needle and black thread, the only color he had. And there you have it: all black-eyed peas have black markings to this day.
*
Start 2 days before you want to cook and eat it.
*
This pungent Mexican herb is also known as pigweed.
S
T
. T
AVY’S
D
AY
W
HO IS
S
T
. T
AVY
?
St. Tavy, St. David, or Dewi Sant, was a Welsh-born sixth-century saint of the Celtic Church. Rhygyfarch, an eleventh-century Welsh monk, wrote that he was of royal lineage—the product of Prince Sandde’s raping Dewi’s mother, the saintly niece of King Arthur; that he was consecrated to the church before he was even born; that he performed many miracles while spreading Christianity to the pagan Celtic tribes; and that he became an archbishop before dying on March 1 in
A.D.
589. One story tells how when he was preaching to a crowd at Llandewi Brefi and couldn’t be heard, he spread a handkerchief on the ground, stepped on it, and was miraculously swept up by earth rising under him into a hill so that all could hear him, with a white dove alighting on his shoulder. Dewi traveled throughout Wales, founding many monasteries that became known for their ascetic practices. He himself drank only water—no beer or wine—and he labored in the fields to sustain the monks and the neighboring poor. After a long and virtuous life, he died a very old man and was buried in what is today St. David’s Cathedral in Pembrokeshire.