Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts

Monday, July 14, 2008

soon doo boo jigae


I often get asked the question, what's your favorite type of Asian food? (Or in rare instances, "Oriental food," asked by completely oblivious non-asians...) Anywho, I have to say, I have no answer for this rather complex, yet general, question. I like it all. Put it in front of me, and I will eat it.

I go through my phases of course. Recently, I've been waking up at night with the sushi sweats- longing for a bowl of rice topped with grilled unagi and fresh hamachi. This past winter, I went through a mild obsession with Cantonese-style congees, especially congee with dried scallop and 100-year old egg. My love for Thai and Vietnamese cuisine is everlasting. They all satisfy my cravings in different ways.

On a recent night, we went out for Korean spicy tofu soup. Soon doo-boo jigae. Kind of rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it? Served in a hot earthenware casserole, it's a bubbling brew of spicy stock (pork or seafood), shrimp and oysters, pork, or kimchee, and the soon doo-boo: the deliciously creamy silken tofu. I like mine with an egg cracked on top, left to firm up in the hot soup.

I always forget just how satisfying Korean food is. It's like eating a box of chocolate liquors in one go: intensely intoxicating, heady and bold. Korean food is proof that a good sweat can work wonders to cool down the body. Everytime I leave a Korean barbeque or finish a hot bowl of jigae, I feel as if I've just come out of a bathhouse- calm and sedated, mopping away at my brow.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

oyster stew and cornmeal dumplings

This gloomy, drippy winter weather has got me in the doldrums. The cold outside has limited my once frequent grocery store trips, not to mention the dark skies at 5 in the afternoon have tricked me into being tired and ready for bed at 6! It was definitely time for a pick-me-up, a dish that would lift me out of my abysmal blues. So I switched on my Bebel Gilberto playlist, poured a glass of wine, and reacquainted myself with the warmth of my kitchen, and the delight in cooking a simple and soothing stew. It's frankly the best kind of therapy.


I combined some of my favorite flavors in this stew. I love them individually on their own, but together, they pack a mighty punch. Ultimately, each of them has a certain sweetness that's subtle and comforting. Oysters are briny, yes, but when they are at their peak freshness, they deliver a wonderfully divine sweetness. The tender leeks, soft cornmeal accented with a touch of brown sugar, and the creamy milk that serves as the base all combine to satisfy a starving sweet tooth.

The dumplings were inspired by a recipe from last month's Gourmet, which featured traditional Southern fare. They were soft but meaty, and even better the second day around, as all the flavors had a chance to soak in. No need for crusty bread or oyster crackers here, maybe just a good glass of white wine or a mug of chamomile tea. Fuzzy slippers and a plush robe are optional.

Oyster Stew with Cornmeal Dumplings

Stew:
1 pint fresh shucked oysters
1 stalk leek, white and light green parts finely chopped
2 Tbsp butter
2 cups clam juice
2 cups half and half or milk
1/4 tsp grated nutmeg
pinch of cayenne pepper
salt and pepper, to taste

Dumplings:

1/4 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup yellow cornmeal
1 tsp packed brown sugar
1/2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp unsalted butter, softened
1/3 cup milk

1. For the dumplings: In a bowl, stir together all the dry ingredients. Whisk in the butter and milk until a smooth batter forms that gently pulls away from the side of the bowl. Add more flour, if necessary. Let stand for 5-10 minutes. With wet hands, roll tablespoons of dough into balls and set aside.

2. For the stew: Drain the oysters from the liquor, and reserve both. Pat the oysters dry. In a deep saucepan, melt 1 Tbsp of butter over medium-high heat. Add the leeks and sweat 3-5 minutes, until tender and fragrant. Add the reserved oyster liquor, half and half, clam juice, and seasonings. Let it come to a boil, and turn the heat down to low. Simmer for 5 minutes.

3. Drop the prepared dumplings one by one into the simmering broth and cook on low for
about 10 minutes. Cover the pot during this time to prevent too much evaporation.

4. Meanwhile, in a skillet, gently fry the oysters in 1 Tbsp of butter or oil until the edges start to curl, about 2-3 minutes. Remove and spoon into the simmering stew. Cook everything for another 5 minutes. Serve warm.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

lager and beef stew


I love taking an inexpensive cut of meat and stewing the hell out of it. Especially in my crock pot. Maybe it should be called crack pot, since it's so addictive to use. Set it and forget it! You can now even find products that make crock pot cooking more convenient, like slow cooking liners, plastic bags you insert into the pot in which the food cooks. Clean-up becomes a cinch.

There's been a bottle of German doppelbock beer that's been sitting in my fridge, from a friend who had brought it along with strings of sausages awhile ago for a house party. Doppelbocks, aka double bock beers, are malty German lagers with a whole lot of body.They are especially dark, with incredible smoky and dynamic flavors. Korbinian, fromWeihenstephaner Brewery, has a uniquely chocolatey after-finish to it. To bring out these earthy flavors, I added 2 squares of dark bittersweet chocolate to the broth.

Wow, the taste was like nothing we've had before. Deep and flavorful, layered with nuances of sweet and earthiness, it was a big bowl of comfort. I suppose the taste can only be described as rich and malty. Instead of potatoes, next time I will add parsnips, and maybe even turnips. They would also be lovely in a dish of this depth. We ate ours with whole wheat naan (it was the only soup-sopper type bread we had), but egg noodles, a hearty polenta, or wide pappardelle pasta would be delicious, don't you think?


Lager and Beef Stew
adapted from Cook's Country magazine

2 lbs boneless beef chuck or shoulder, cut into 1 1/2" cubes
1 large onion, chopped
4 strips center cut bacon, diced
32 oz. low-sodium chicken broth

1 1/2 cups lager beer

2 Tbsp brown sugar

4-5 sprigs fresh thyme

1 oz bittersweet chocolate, chopped

2 bay leaves

4 carrots, peeled and cut into 1" chunks

1 potato, scrubbed and cut into 1" cubes


1. In a dutch oven, over high heat, sear the meat on all sides in 1 Tbsp oil. Set aside.

2. In the same pot, with heat to medium, slowly cook the bacon until most of the fat is rendered. Add the onions and cook until transluscent, but still firm. Remove, and set aside. Add chicken broth, beer, sugar, chocolate, half the carrots, and the beef to the pot. Stir to scrape up and drippings. Let come to a boil, and skim off any foam that rises to the top. Stir in the bay leaves, thyme, and half the onion mixture. Pour this into your slow cooker/crock pot.

3. Set crock pot to low and cook for 6-7 hours.

4. Add the rest of the carrots, onions, and potato to the crock pot. Let cook for another 1 to 1.5 hours. Pick out the thyme and bay leaves. Add salt and pepper, if needed.

5. Serve hot.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

thai tomato bisque

There's only two weeks of summer left! Hurry and make the most of the season's tomatoes, zucchini, and berries. I used a medley of tomatoes from my parent's garden to make this bisque, but of course canned tomatoes are just as good. When using fresh, make sure to peel and deseed them for a smoother texture soup. This is a good transitional dish between seasons- light enough for summer, and still hearty enough for the fall.

Oh and on a side note, my orchid plant has been flourishing like its on steroids! I think I've found the secret...plenty of sun, and a warm environment. Try to keep it in doors, as far away from air conditioning as possible.



Thai Tomato Bisque with Basil Oil Crouton
serves 3-4

1 28-oz. can fire-roasted diced tomato
1/4 cup diced onion
1/4 cup diced carrot
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp ginger root, minced
5-6 kaffir lime leaves
3 Tbsp fish sauce
1 Tbsp palm sugar (or regular sugar)
1/3 cup half & half, whole milk, or skim milk

1. In a soup pot, sautee onion and carrot in 1 Tbsp of oil over medium heat until soft, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and ginger; keep stirring for a few more minutes.

2. Add the tomato, kaffir lime, fish sauce and palm sugar. Water can be added if the soup looks too chunky. Let come to a boil. Simmer over low heat, covered, for 1-2 hours.

3. Pick out the kaffir lime leaves. With an immersion blender, puree the soup. Add the half & half or milk, and simmer for 5-10 more minutes.

4. Serve with a piece of toasted baguette drizzle with basil oil.


Basil Oil
makes 2 cups

1 cup packed basil leaves, chopped
2 cups extra virgin olive oil, chilled
1 tsp salt

In a food processor or blender, puree all ingredients until smooth and well blended. Strain through a fine mesh sieve. Store in a squeeze bottle in the refrigerator for up to one 1-2 months.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

amuse bouche: chilled carrot peanut lemongrass soup with crab

Soup, when served warm and steamy, is immensely satisfying, replenishing the body and spirit. Comfort in a bowl. In the summer time though, a chilled soup can do all this and more. Quenching the body's thirst and heat, cold soups are so refreshing.

I had my first taste of chilled carrot soup as a kid, served to me by one of my mom's only Caucasian friends, sitting in her formal dining room that was musty with age. She ladled the soup from a china tureen. There must be some mistake, I had thought, she must have forgotten to heat it up! As I soon learned that she had meant to serve it this way, I began to taste the sweet and smoky notes that the carrots added, along with the subtle hints of cinnamon and ginger. This was one of my first childhood food break-through moments. I was jolted from everything I knew about food (which was quite limited) to learning to appreciate the possibilities of what is out there. I was able to get a glimpse of someone else's culture through their food. Since then, carrots have always remained a star ingredient in chilled soups for me.

Ground peanuts in soup is traditional in many African cuisines such Senegal. It acts as a thickener and imparts a rich nutty flavor. I used peanuts as a nice contrast to the sweet carrots and tart lemongrass. I also added the last of my crabmeat (which I hand-picked, and not an easy task!). Oh yes, and lastly, don't forget to garnish with a carrot chip!

Chilled Carrot Peanut Lemongrass Soup with Crab

5 large carrots, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch pieces
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 piece fresh ginger, minced
1 onion, diced (Vidalia, or any sweet variety)
1 stalk lemongrass, tender core pieces bruised with the back of a knife
1/2 cup raw peanuts
1 quart chicken stock
1/3 cup crabmeat

Coat the carrots with some vegetable oil and roast until tender at 400F.
Saute the onion, garlic, ginger and lemongrass in a large stockpot until onion begins to caramelize. Add stock and let come to a boil. Add the peanuts. Cover pot and reduce to medium heat. Cook for 15-20 min, or until peanuts start to soften. Pick out any pieces of lemongrass, as they are too tough and fibrous for the soup. Use an immersion blender to puree the soup to a smooth texture. Stir in crabmeat and cook for 5 more min. Let soup come to room temperature and refrigerate.
To make the carrot chip, slice a longer piece of carrot, about 1/8" thick. Flash fry in 350F vegetable oil, and drain on a paper towel.
Serve soup chilled in a small tumbler or shot glass. Garnish with ground peanuts, carrot chip, and a basil leaf.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

summer gazpacho


This soup really appeals to all 5 senses, so it's crucial to use the freshest ingredients possible since nothing is actually cooked in this dish. Try using a top grade sherry vinegar, as the acid really needs to shine through. (I use Solera 77, $4.99/bottle at Whole Foods)

What to serve with gazpacho? Try a grilled cheese sandwich of fresh mozzarella, tomatoes, fresh basil, and pesto mayo on a baguette.

Gazpacho

6 ripe plum tomatoes, cored and cut into 1/4-inch cubes
1 red bell pepper, cut into 1/4-inch cubes
1 cucumber, peeled, seeded and cut into 1/4-inch cubes
1/2 sweet onion (Vidalia, Maui, or Walla Walla), peeled and minced
1 avocado, cubed
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 teaspoons salt
1/3 cup sherry vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar
fresh ground black pepper, to taste
3 cups tomato juice
1 teaspoon hot sauce (I use Sriracha)
extra-virgin olive oil for serving

1. Combine the tomatoes, bell pepper, cucumber, onion, garlic, salt, vinegar, sugar and pepper in a large bowl. Let the vegetables marinate about 10 minutes. Stir in the tomato juice, hot pepper sauce and avocado. Cover and refrigerate at least 4 hours and up to 2 days.

2. Serve cold, drizzling each portion with 1 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil and topping with toasted croutons or tortilla chips.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

matzo ball = comfort food

After an entire weekend of subsisting on nothing but dry toast and soup (I was unfairly attacked by the flu) I finally felt well enough to make a meal for myself, substantial enough to fill me up but at the same time soupy enough for my sore throat. Solution: matzo ball soup! I remembered I had a box of Manischewitz in my pantry I had bought around Passover, out of curiosity. I've had matzo ball soup only once before at Atwater's, a big bowl of love, hot and steaming, in the shape of homemade fluffy dough balls. There were tender pieces of pulled white chicken meat, carrots and celery to eat along with every spoonful of dumpling and broth. At the bottom of that bowl, I had discovered a new woman in me, one who was earnest to learn more about Jewish cooking.


What I love about matzo balls is ultimately the nature of their texture; soft, light, springy, and yet quite resilient to heat and all that poking and prodding. Because they're porous, they soak up all that aromatic broth and hold it like a sponge. Much different from the dumplings in chicken and dumplings or sour beef and dumplings, but equally as hearty and satisfying.

There are so many layers to this dish that you can't help but understand the tradition, family, and love that lie behind it. The many hours it takes to make the broth, the ritual of picking the chicken meat, and the tenderness it takes to shape each individual dumpling on well-seasoned palms. My attempt was slightly haphazard, as I threw most of my ingredients together instead of taking the time to go through the steps, but it turned out brilliantly and definitely was a welcome meal for my stomach after being sick. Next time, I'll make the broth from scratch and use fresh cilantro and parsley.