Read An Exaltation of Soups Online
Authors: Patricia Solley
Serves 6 to 8
I
T’S A FINE
soup, and that’s the truth: sophisticated in its clarity, and teasing both the nose and the palate with its sweet-savory kick. This is a classic stimulus to the appetite and to conversation. Portions should be small and in exquisite cups, with small silver teaspoons on the side.
3 pounds cracked beef bones
2 pounds soup bones with meat
Any leftover meat or meat fat that could strengthen the broth
2 carrots, scrubbed and trimmed
2 medium onions, quartered
Handful of fresh parsley, chopped
2 parsnips, scrubbed and trimmed
3 garlic cloves, crushed
2 bay leaves
2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons black peppercorns
12 cups (3 quarts) cold water
Fine Irish whiskey, for garnish
1. An hour before you start the soup, roast the bones and meat in a large roasting pan in a 450°F. oven for 1 hour. Put the bones in a large stockpot, then deglaze the roasting pan with a cup of water and pour that water into the stockpot.
2. Prep the remaining ingredients as directed in the recipe list.
1. Add the remaining ingredients, including the cold water, to
your stockpot full of roasted bones. Bring to a boil slowly over medium heat, then reduce the heat to low and simmer, covered, for 2 hours.
2. Remove the cover and simmer for at least another hour. You want to reduce the soup to about 6 to 8 cups of broth, strongly flavored. Strain and pour into a clean pot. If you are making the soup ahead, let it cool, uncovered, to room temperature and only then refrigerate, otherwise it will cloud. Do not remove the fat until you are ready to use the broth.
Completely remove the fat from the soup’s surface, heat the broth to a boil over high heat, then ladle it into small cups. Stir a teaspoon of Irish whiskey into each one just as you’re taking them to the table. Really a lovely start to Christmas—or any—dinner.
P
ORTRAIT OF AN
I
RISH
C
HRISTMAS AS A
Y
OUNG
M
AN
A great fire, banked high and red, flamed in the grate and under the ivy-twined branches of the chandelier the Christmas table was spread. They had come home a little late and still dinner was not ready: but it would be ready in a jiffy his mother had said, They were waiting for the door to open and for the servants to come in, holding the big dishes covered with their heavy metal covers.
… Mr. Dedalus dropped his coat-tails and went over to the sideboard. He brought forth a great stone jar of whisky from the locker and filled the decanter slowly, bending now and then to see how much he had poured in. Then replacing the jar in the locker he poured a little of the whisky into two glasses, added a little water and came back with them to the fireplace.
—A thimbleful, John, he said, just to whet your appetite.
—From the famous Christmas dinner opening of James Joyce’s P
ORTRAIT OF THE
A
RTIST AS A
Y
OUNG
M
AN
, 1916
E
SCAROLE
? W
HAT’S
T
HAT
?
Though a staple of Italian cuisine, escarole is confusing. Is it a chickory? An endive? Most grocery stores get it mixed up, too. In fact, it’s
Cichorium endivia
, the broad-leaved or Batavian side of the family, closely related to chickory, but different. In its wild state—and it’s abundantly wild in Italy—it is common to Europe, Africa, India, and Asia. But it has been cultivated for millennia by ancient Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans, which last particularly preferred it to the more bitter chickory and knew how to blanch its remaining bitterness away. To shop for escarole, look for a head that looks like a curly green lettuce—the leaves will be broad and slightly curled.
Serves 6 to 8
T
HIS RECIPE IS
traditional to the Isle of Capri, across the bay from Naples. It is such a snap, you can make it in twenty minutes if you have the ingredients on hand. Of course, it’s nice and traditional to make the stock from scratch, too, especially for
i primi
of Christmas dinner. The soup is hugely bright green and fresh tasting, fragrant with lemon and Parmesan cheese, delicate in taste.
8 cups (2 quarts) Chicken Stock
1 teaspoon grated lemon peel
2 bay leaves
1 tablespoon grated onion
1 whole chicken breast, boned, skined, and cut in half
1 head escarole (about 1 pound), carefully washed and cut into
1-inch squares
Salt and pepper to taste
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese, for garnish
Prep the ingredients as directed in the recipe list.
1. Bring the stock to a boil in a large soup pot over mediumhigh heat, then stir in the lemon peel, bay leaves, and grated onion. Add the chicken, reduce the heat to low, and let simmer for 10 minutes.
2. Remove the chicken and let cool for a minute before cutting into bite-size pieces. Bring the soup back to a boil, then stir in the escarole and chicken pieces. Reduce the heat and let simmer, covered, for another 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
Ladle the soup into bowls and sprinkle each portion with Parmesan cheese, which will melt beautifully into the soup. Serve immediately and pass extra Parmesan cheese, if you like.
C
INEMATIC
C
HRISTMAS IN
C
APRI
Director Michael Radford’s exquisite 1994 film
ll Postino
, about Pablo Neruda’s inspiring exile on Capri, celebrates Christmas 1953 with a village procession from Our Lady of Sorrows to the shore that ends by launching a candle-lit wooden effigy of the Madonna into the sea. It’s a serious moment. The children of Cala di Sotto are dressed as angels, the postman Mario (Massimo Troisi) as the Holy Ghost, and his communist employer as a saint. Nothing is more important than good catches for the subsistence fishermen of the village, and the bright blue Madonna is pasted all over with lira to attract good fortune and lots of fish. On an island run by corrupt absentee politicians and with no running water, even soup is hard to come by when the water cisterns run dry, as they routinely do. Early in the film, Mario and his father dine on milk soup, eating it out of deep bowls with large spoons. Imagine the extravagance, then, of
Minestra di Natale
—so rich with chicken, broth, and cheese.
H
OW
D
ID
T
HESE
L
ITTLE
C
RITTERS
G
ET
T
HEIR
N
AME
?
There are a couple of different stories: (1) from a powerful historic Maori chief by the name of Tohe; (2) from a benign spirit who directed starving Maoris to them, urging them to dig deep, or
to-heroa
, because these agile clams can burrow 10 inches down in the sand in no time at all.
A last note: Heard the one about the American who doted on these clams so much that he tried to buy New Zealand just so he’d have exclusive rights to the soup? There’s that ugly American again.
Serves 6 to 8
T
HIS SOUP IS
a wonderfully delicate and sophisticated—and a lovely shade of green for Christmas dinner. It’s especially nice served cold in December, in the heat of a New Zealand summer, but is equally delicious served hot. It features the delicate and distinctly green surf clam Toheroa
(Paphies ventricosa)
, native to northern and southern beaches in New Zealand and much beloved and fished by the Maori. Alas, they were overfished for the cannery industry and now are carefully protected by law. For fun, you can serve this soup cold and in punch cups: with that sprinkling of nutmeg, they’ll look like Dr. Seussian green eggnog.
12 large fresh Toheroa clams or 24 ounces canned Toheroas (4 small cans) (See Note)
2 large onions, chopped coarsely
6 cups Fish Stock, clam juice, or a combination of the two
Salt and pepper to taste
4 egg yolks
1 cup heavy cream
Grated nutmeg, for garnish