White Bean Soup with Kale, Parmesan, and Bacon

Twelve  cups of chicken broth? I had to read that line twice when I planned a recent grocery list. Why would a soup need so much broth? But I soon realized the genius of it, mainly that you cook the rice in the soup instead of in a separate pot, melding flavors and reducing the dishes. You need all that broth for the rice to absorb, with enough left over for the soup. Other reasons to make this soup now: It has both bacon and cheese on top, but it counts as healthy because it has kale and carrots. It’s just the thing to ease you out of a rich holiday diet: A little indulgence, with leafy greens. And I can say with authority, having spent the last two days navigating downpours, that nothing is better than coming in from the cold and wet than a bowl of soup, the kind that can warm you down to your (frozen) toes.

White Bean Soup with Kale, Parmesan, and Bacon
Adapted from Bon Appetit

8 slices bacon
Olive oil
1 onion, diced
1 carrot, diced
2 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon tomato paste
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
12 cups chicken broth
1 cup brown rice
1 bunch kale, leaves coarsely torn
1 15-ounce can white beans, drained and rinsed
Grated parmesan

1. Heat oven to 425 degrees. Line a baking sheet with foil. Place the bacon slices on the foil (make sure none are overlapping). Bake for 12 minutes. Drain the grease, then return the bacon to the oven for 5-8 minutes more (how long depends on the thickness of the bacon and how crispy you want it to be). Drain the grease again when done cooking. When the bacon has cooled a bit, crumble it into a small bowl.
2. Heat a little olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Combine the onion, carrot, and garlic in the pot; sauté for 5 minutes. Add tomato paste and red pepper flakes, and cook for 1 minute.
3. Add the broth and the rice to the pot and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and let simmer for 30 minutes or until the rice is tender. Stir in the kale and beans and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the kale is wilted. Serve the parmesan and bacon on top.

Streamlined Soup: Chicken Meatball Soup with Lemon Broth

From the moment I read that I was supposed to roast the lemons, I sensed trouble. Why would you roast lemons for 45 minutes? The Cherry Bombe Cookbook assured me that this method produced “a deeply aromatic, concentrated juice.” So I put aside my misgivings (because I know I’ve discovered great things by doing so) and put the lemons on a baking sheet.

I’m going to preface this next part by saying that I love Cherry Bombe. I love its editors, the amazing women they feature, and the inspiring conference I went to a few years back. I’m excited to make as many recipes as I can from this cookbook. But roasting lemons? Don’t bother. After 45 minutes, the lemons, when squeezed, produced no juice, just a blobby, sticky pulp (and not very much of it, certainly not enough for soup). It made sense, of course: the sugars had caramelized, and there was nothing to do but toss the lemons in the compost and figure out an alternate plan.

I’d used up all the lemons, and I couldn’t find our bottled lemon juice (we later located it in the car, where we’d forgotten it after using it for a meal we made at my in-laws’ house. I promise we have it all together). So I did the best I could, improvising and getting the meal done so we had something to eat instead of giving up and ordering Uber Eats. But afterward, I sat down and streamlined the recipe. Obviously I took out the lemon roasting, but I also simplified the chicken meatballs, removed some spices, like cinnamon, that I thought were overwhelming in this dish, and toned down the amount of olive oil.

The end result is a soup I want to eat all the time, especially as winter carries on. The broth is lemony and refreshing (made with gold old bottled lemon juice, though you could also use fresh-squeezed), and the potatoes, spinach, and chicken meatballs (which you could use in a variety of other dishes as well) make it a hearty dinner. Life hands you lemons, but it’s good to know you don’t have to roast them.

Chicken Meatball Soup with Lemon Broth
Adapted from The Cherry Bombe Cookbook

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 leek, finely diced
1 onion: half of the onion finely diced, the other half sliced into thin crescents
1 pound ground chicken
Salt and pepper, to taste
8 cups chicken broth
4 cups cubed russet potatoes (about 2 potatoes)
3 tablespoons lemon juice
5 ounces spinach leaves

1. In a large skillet, heat 1 tablespoon olive oil over medium heat. Add the leek and finely diced onion and cook until softened, about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Transfer to a large bowl and allow to cool a little, then stir in the ground chicken and salt and pepper to taste until well combined. Cover and refrigerate until it’s time to add the chicken to the soup.
2. In a large pot, heat 1 tablespoon olive oil over medium heat. Add the thin crescents of onion and cook until just beginning to brown, stirring occasionally. Add the broth (slowly at first, since the oil will be hot), followed by the potatoes. Bring to a simmer and let bubble for 10 minutes or until the potatoes are just softened.
3. Add the lemon juice to the broth 1 tablespoon at a time, tasting after each addition (if you think it’s lemony enough before you put the full amount in, then don’t add any more!).
4. Form the chicken mixture into meatballs about 1 inch in diameter, dropping each meatball into the soup when you’re done shaping it. Cover the soup and let simmer for 8 minutes to cook the meatballs. Stir in the spinach leaves in batches until wilted.

Fiery Without Flame: Shrimp with Feta and Tomatoes

I don’t like to light my food on fire. I don’t care if it’s crepes suzette, or any number of traditional flambéed dishes. I think it’s an odd—and potentially dangerous—practice. Who decided that dousing your food in liquor and lighting it was a good idea? While I ponder the strangeness of our species’ cooking practices, let me share this brilliant recipe that, despite being given the option, I did not choose to ignite.

Here we are, in the cold of almost-winter, not a fresh tomato in sight (not one worth eating, anyways). Luckily, canned tomatoes step in when we need them, in this case to surround shrimp and feta in a cozy, simple dish that is perfect for those holiday-season nights when you’re burned out on cooking. I didn’t expect the dish to turn out quite so soupy, but I was actually so pleased that it did. It became a special tomato soup, with flavors cranked way past any tomato soup I’ve had before (but let’s face it, I mostly eat the stuff from a can. Sssh, don’t tell anyone).

The recipe headnote mentioned fire, but I thought Amanda Hesser was just referring to the pepper flakes. Maybe she was, but the final step in the recipe has you pour in ouzo, an anise-flavored liqueur from Greece. And then: “if desired, ignite it.” Nope, definitely not desired. First, there’s the aforementioned lack of interest in seeing my food in flames. Second, is ouzo something you can find at a local grocery chain? If not, it didn’t seem worth tracking down, and if I did get it, I’d probably end up with more than I needed, desperately trying to pawn it off on unsuspecting houseguests.

Luckily, this dish doesn’t need the liqueur at all. It’s hard to believe such intensely good flavors come from such a basic set of ingredients. The three main ingredients—shrimp, feta, tomatoes—go fantastically together, but it’s the oregano and red pepper flakes that elevate the dish, adding herbal depth and warm spice. There’s the unlikely addition of clam juice, but just go with it; I’ve found it essential in seafood stew. Next time I make this, I’ll probably stir in cooked brown rice, or serve it on the side, so I can stretch this goodness over multiple meals.

Wherever the holidays find you, in whatever emotional state, I wish you some quiet moments to give balance to the busyness. In such moments, dishes such as this one provide a kind of solace, or perhaps just a preamble to a big celebration. I wish us all joy wherever we can find it.

Shrimp with Feta and Tomatoes
Adapted from The Essential New York Times Cookbook

1 cup brown rice (optional)
¼ cup olive oil
2 large cloves of garlic, minced
1 28-ounce can diced tomatoes, drained
¼ cup clam juice
1 teaspoon dried oregano
¼ – ½ teaspoon red pepper flakes, to taste
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 pound cooked shrimp, tails removed
1 cup crumbled feta cheese

1. If serving with rice: Combine rice and 3 cups water in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium and let simmer until the rice is tender and all of the water is absorbed.
2. Heat oven to 350 degrees. In a large, oven-proof skillet, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the garlic, stirring often until lightly browned. Add the tomatoes and let simmer for 3 minutes, stirring often.
3. Stir in the clam juice, oregano, pepper flakes (use the larger amount if you want it spicy, the smaller for mild), and salt and pepper to taste. Stir in the shrimp until well combined. Sprinkle the feta evenly on top.
4. Transfer the skillet to the oven. Bake for 10 minutes or until bubbling.

Soup, and So Much More: Matzo Ball and Chicken Soup

Until I made this soup, I don’t think I’d ever had a matzo ball in my life. I knew, of course, what they were; their reputation led me to believe they were nothing short of magic. Perhaps they would have remained mythical and unknown were it not for a recipe in Modern Jewish Cooking.

As I’ve said before, I’m no fan of this very rainy winter we’ve had in Seattle. But one benefit is I’ve really upped my soup game (there is clearly a direct correlation between bad weather and good soup). So there I was, looking for more soup inspiration, when I came across the recipe for chicken soup with matzo balls. I suddenly knew I had to make this, and my mind raced with all the little adjustments to make to the recipe. Such a creative surge and excitement could only lead to success, right?

I wasn’t going to simmer a whole chicken for 90 minutes; I would cook cubed chicken breast in a skillet and add it to the soup at the end. Instead of simmering the matzo balls in a separate pot, I would cook them in the soup broth so they could absorb as much flavor as possible. I know this is probably not traditional and the original way might be better, but I felt a need to make this my own. I used store-bought chicken broth, which isn’t as clear as a homemade stock would probably be. When I dropped the matzo balls into the soup, they sank out of sight. I tried to distribute them as evenly as possible, which was difficult as they kept disappearing into the murky depths.

Happily, when I uncovered the soup, the cooked matzo balls had all risen to the top. I know it’s a small thing, but I felt like a little miracle had occurred—I had made matzo balls! They were a light brown color (from whole-wheat matzo meal), not white like other matzo balls I’ve seen, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was the taste, and how the combination of chicken, vegetables, and matzo balls—these basic ingredients—turned into something flavorful and immensely comforting. I now see why people feel so strongly about their matzo ball soup.

Food is more than just stuff to eat, and I saw that clearly in this recipe. It gave me increased confidence in my recipe reconfiguring abilities. It connected me to part of a vibrant, resilient culture. And yes, the soup is delicious. Magical, really.

Chicken and Matzo Ball Soup
Adapted from Modern Jewish Cooking

4 eggs, beaten
¼ cup vegetable oil
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup matzo meal
3 tablespoons seltzer water
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon olive oil
1 onion, diced
6 cloves of garlic, coarsely chopped
3 carrots, peeled and diced
3 stalks celery, diced
4 cups chicken broth
2 cups water
1-1.5 pounds chicken breast, cut into bite-size pieces

1. In a large bowl, combine the beaten eggs, vegetable oil, salt, matzo meal, and seltzer. Cover and transfer to the fridge to chill for 30 minutes (the mixture will be runny, but it will firm up in the fridge). While you wait, prep the rest of the ingredients for the soup.
2. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until light brown (about 5 minutes). Stir in the garlic and cook for 1 minute. Add the carrots and celery, then add the broth and water. Bring the soup to a simmer.
3. When the soup is simmering, remove the matzo mixture from the fridge. Scoop out a tablespoon-sized portion and roll it into a ball, making sure not to compress it too tightly. Gently drop the ball into the simmering soup. Repeat with remaining matzo mixture. Cover the soup, switch heat to medium-low, and let simmer for 30 minutes.
4. While the matzo balls cook in the soup, heat a teaspoon of olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the chicken and cook, stirring occasionally, until cooked through. When the matzos are done, add the cooked chicken pieces to the soup.

Then and Now, the Best Tortilla Soup

In high school, I had a bit of an obsession with tortilla soup. It was a very focused obsession: one tortilla soup, one restaurant (which is kind of a feat considering the place I grew up, a small island near Seattle, has three Mexican restaurants). This tortilla soup, at Casa Rojas, with its chicken, strings of melted cheese, avocado slices, and flavorful broth, had me in its grasp for a while.

But then I moved out and went to college, graduated, moved back home, then out again to Seattle, and tortilla soup never came up. The last time I went to Casa Rojas, which was something like five years ago, my friends and I got burritos that were inexplicably filled with peas. I probably don’t have to tell you that peas did not go down well in these burritos. It occurs to me now that, even though it was a hot summer day, I should have ordered the tortilla soup. But like I said, it had fallen off the radar.

And then, when tortilla soup was as far from my mind as it could be, it returned to my life. As I flipped through one of my notebooks of recipes clipped from here and there, I saw one for tortilla soup. Suddenly, the memory for the soup flooded back, followed by the craving to have it as soon as I could. But I didn’t want to get on the ferry and go to Casa Rojas; goodness knows they’ve started putting peas in the soup, too. Instead, I wanted to make it myself. I know it’s a gamble to try to replicate a favorite restaurant dish in a home kitchen, especially when you haven’t had it in many years, allowing plenty of time for its deliciousness to build up in your memory.

Obviously, that didn’t stop me, and what I ended up with is, I think, even better than what I started with. I could easily replicate everything I loved about the restaurant’s soup. And this is one of the easiest soups I have ever made. There’s really nothing stopping me from making this as often as I please, and especially now, with winter’s end still a ways off, it’s absolutely necessary. I made only a few slight changes to the recipe, including keeping the tortilla chips whole instead of crushing them. I like the whole chips poking out of the broth and soaking it up, delicious even when they’re a little soggy. Somehow, that still works.

One reason I think this soup tastes even better to me than the version from the past is that I’m in a better, happier place. Life’s just more fun now, and after all, those past times are only going to get further away. Best to find new ways to enjoy the present.

Tortilla Soup
Adapted from Cooking Light

A little olive oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
3 cups chicken broth
About 1 ½ pounds chicken breast, cut into 1-inch strips
1 cup water
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes (do not drain)
Tortilla chips
Grated cheddar cheese, for garnish
Chopped cilantro, for garnish
Avocado wedges, for garnish

1. Heat a little olive oil in a large saucepan or pot over medium-high heat. Add garlic and sauté for 1 minute. Add the broth, chicken pieces, water, chili powder, cumin, and diced tomatoes with their liquid. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium and let simmer 15 minutes.
2. Ladle the soup into bowls (make sure to leave room for all the garnishes!). Place a large handful of tortilla chips in the soup (adjust the amount to fit your preference and the size of the bowls). Garnish with cheese, chopped cilantro, and avocado wedges.

The Cold Cure: Shrimp Noodle Soup

My favorite soups are the ones with noodles, specifically pho, ramen, or something similar. Especially in winter, pho is my go-to meal; aside from a hot shower and a cup of tea, few things are as comforting after some time in the cold. Making these soups at home, though? For a long time, it seemed sensible to leave it to the experts.

If you’ve looked at an authentic pho recipe, you’ll know that making pho takes time, and lots of it. And while I understand that a long simmering time results in good flavor, I also do most of my cooking on weeknights, and hours of simmer time aren’t feasible. Maybe the real lesson here is that we need to get out that slow cooker we never use. But before I even considered that, I found a recipe similar enough to pho that would work on a weekday night (without making us eat dinner at 10 p.m.).

One of the most interesting things about this recipe—something I’d never done before—is that it uses the shrimp tails to flavor the broth (clam juice and chicken broth also pitch in). I’d heard of doing this in other seafood soups, but never had the opportunity to try it until now. Ginger also adds depth of flavor, resulting in a smooth broth (you remove the shrimp tails and ginger after simmering) that’s soothing too.

I used thicker rice noodles because that’s what I had on hand, but I’d also like to try this with thinner noodles (especially since those will be easier to eat with chopsticks, which I always try to use when eating noodle soups such as this; it’s practice for future travels to chopstick-wielding locales). I’ll even go so far as to recommend using spaghetti or other pasta if that’s what you have—just be sure to cook them the way you usually cook pasta, instead of the soaking method in the recipe below.

The point is to use what you like and what you have, and make the soup something special for yourself. Let the experts treat you to an authentic pho (until you summon the time and stamina to make it yourself; I’m still working on that); treat yourself to soup with less maintenance and more time for cozying up with a hot meal.

Shrimp Noodle Soup
Adapted from Cooking Light

4 ounces rice noodles (more or less, to taste)
1 pound tail-on shrimp, tails removed and set aside
3 cups water
1 ½ cups chicken broth
½ cup clam juice
2 slices of peeled fresh ginger (about ¼-inch thick each)
4 eggs
A little olive oil
1 red bell pepper, cut into thin slices an inch or so long
¼ cup thinly sliced onion
1 clove of garlic, minced
2 teaspoons chili garlic sauce
Chopped cilantro leaves, to taste

1. Place the rice noodles in a medium-sized pot and cover with water. Bring to a boil, then remove from heat and let the noodles sit in the hot water until tender. Drain and set aside.
2. In a large saucepan, combine the shrimp tails, water, chicken broth, clam juice, and ginger. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium and simmer uncovered for 10 minutes. Strain the soup broth through a sieve into another saucepan. Discard the shrimp tails and ginger. Set broth aside.
3. Place the eggs in a small saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium and let simmer 8 minutes (for just-set yolks) to 10 minutes (for firm yolks). Run eggs under cold water until cool enough to handle. Peel each egg and slice in half lengthwise. Set aside.
4. Heat a little olive oil over medium heat in a large saucepan. Add bell pepper, onion, and garlic. Sauté for 3 minutes. Pour in the soup broth and bring to a simmer, increasing the heat briefly if needed.
5. Add the shrimp, chili garlic sauce, and noodles; let simmer for a few minutes to allow the flavors to meld. Serve soup with egg halves and cilantro sprinkled on top.

Back in the Kitchen: Sweet Potato Chili

A couple weeks ago, still recovering from the long flights home from South Africa (at least 22 hours in the air, plus more time on buses, trains, and going slightly delusional in the Dubai airport at 2 a.m.), I decided to get back into routine and cook. I didn’t order another round of takeout, as we did the night we got back.  Instead, I hauled my sleepy self into the kitchen to make sweet potato chili.

I wish this story were more inspiring—a home cook getting back into the kitchen after traveling to another country and eating different dishes, rejuvenated with new ideas and tastes. But the truth is, even though I wanted to cook, I also had a different opinion, voicing itself rather loudly, that peeling a yam and slicing an onion and getting everything ready was just too much work and, please, can I just sleep now? So while I managed to prep the vegetables and everything else, my thought process went like this: This probably won’t be that great, I’ll just make it, and that’ll be the end of that.

Sometimes it’s a great thing to be wrong. From the first bite of chili, I could hardly believe how sublime it was. It’s flavored just strongly enough with chili powder, with the sweetness of the yams adding a contrast not usually found in most chili recipes. There’s something luxurious about the texture; this one’s smoother, more subtle than other chilis. When you’re putting it together, it might seem like it needs more vegetables, or something else to fill it up, but trust me, it needs nothing else.

Except toppings, of course. We ate the chili with a lid of grated cheddar on top of each serving and sliced avocado on top of that. As usual, this combination didn’t disappoint. When I make this again, I’d love to serve it with buttermilk biscuits, cornbread, or challah bread. On the night I first made this, just putting the chili together was all I could do, but I could see another time (when I’m not in the grasp of jet lag) when I could make biscuits while the chili simmers and does its flavor-melding magic.

I’m thankful I pushed myself to make this chili and that despite my low expectations, it turned out fabulously. There are nights when ordering takeout is necessary, and others where it’s worth it to do your own thing.

Sweet Potato Chili
Adapted from Modern Jewish Cooking

¼ cup olive oil
1 onion, finely diced
1 carrot, peeled and diced (optional)
1 large yam, peeled and cut into ½-inch pieces
1 tablespoon brown sugar
8 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1 tablespoon plus 1 ½ teaspoons chili powder
1 ½ teaspoons ground cumin
1/8 teaspoon cayenne
1 14.5-ounce can diced tomatoes
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 15-ounce cans black beans, drained and rinsed
½ cup water
Toppings: Diced avocado, grated cheddar cheese

1. Heat the olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion, carrot, yam, and brown sugar, stirring to coat with the oil. Let cook for 8-12 minutes, until the vegetables are softened, stirring occasionally.
2. Stir in the garlic, chili powder, cumin, and cayenne. Let cook for a minute or so, then stir in the tomatoes (with their juice), balsamic vinegar, black beans, and water.
3. Bring chili to a boil, then reduce the heat to low. Partially cover the chili and let simmer 15-25 minutes, until the chili thickens, stirring occasionally.
4. Serve chili with grated cheddar and diced avocado on the side for topping.

Mussel Memory: Cod and Mussel Stew

Until a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t think of mussels as things you buy in a store. Sure, I knew they were there, but for me, mussels were harvested by my dad from the raft floating in the water in front of my grandma’s waterfront home on Bainbridge Island. At low tide, the raft sat on the beach and the mussels attached to the tires beneath were (somewhat) easily detached, cleaned, and used in pastas and fish stews.

But when I wanted to make my own fish stew, I had two choices: either get on the ferry and head for the beach, or see what the local grocery store had to offer. As lovely as the former sounds, I didn’t have the time that particular week. So, Thomas and I headed for the QFC, where they had Penn Cove mussels sitting on ice. I remembered that I do have another association with mussels: the Penn Cove mussels my family ate during my childhood vacations to Whidbey Island were excellent. I asked for 24 mussels and picked up two cod fillets too.

This recipe, from Cooking Light, is described as a quick seafood stew, and it’s definitely simpler than many other seafood stew recipes I’ve seen. This one indulges seafood cravings without forcing you to buy out the entire fish section. The seafood is also completely interchangeable: go ahead and use clams instead of mussels, salmon instead of cod, or whatever appeals the most. The focus of the stew is mainly the seafood, but the diced red potatoes and leek make the stew more substantial, a whole meal rather than a light lunch or starter.

Of the two most common ways to make a fish stew, there’s the red sauce version, used in cioppino, and the classic white wine-garlic broth you might find mussels steamed in and served with French fries. This wine and garlic broth gets a little kick from cayenne pepper, which I’ve reduced here from the original recipe; add more if you want to increase the spice. Also, after you sauté the fish, remove the pan from the heat before you start cooking the broth in the same pan. Letting the browned bits on the pan darken too much will make your broth taste burned. Trust me, I know.

Should my dad decide to harvest mussels again, I’ll definitely offer up this recipe for using the shellfish from the raft. In the meantime, I’m happy to “harvest” the mussels from the grocery store, so I can keep making this amazing stew.

Cod and Mussel Stew
Adapted from Cooking Light

10 ounces red potatoes, diced (about 3 potatoes)
1 ½ tablespoons olive oil
¾ pound cod (about two fillets)
1 medium leek, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
½ cup dry white wine
1 cup water
1 cup chicken broth
½ cup clam juice
1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Dried thyme, to taste
24 mussels, debearded and scrubbed

1. Place potatoes in a medium-sized pot; fill the pot with water until the potatoes are covered. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and let simmer 10 minutes or until tender. Drain the water.
2. In a large skillet, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the cod fillets and cook for 2 minutes per side. Transfer the fish to a large plate and break it into smaller, bite-size pieces. Remove the pan from the heat but keep the stove on until you are ready to start the broth.
3. Return the skillet you cooked the fish in to the stove. Add the leek and garlic; sauté for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add wine and bring to a boil. Scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan that come loose.
4. Add water, chicken broth, clam juice, cayenne pepper, and thyme to the skillet. Bring to a boil. Add the potatoes, cod, and mussels. Cover and cook for 4 minutes or until the mussels open up (discard any that don’t open; they’re duds).

Craft in the kitchen: Wonton soup

I adore a good food project when I have time for it, especially the hands-on work required for making meals from scratch (or almost from scratch). On my rather ambitious list, I have plans to make fresh pasta, stack and frost beautiful layer cakes, and craft divine croissants. But let’s be real: those are projects requiring several hours (possibly a couple of days) and multiple hands on deck. For the average weekend or weeknight, wonton soup is a satisfying project requiring just a little of your time.

The inspiration came with a realization. I made wonton soup a month or so ago, assisting a couple of friends with a small dinner party meal. Something that had previously seemed so complicated suddenly wasn’t. The filling and broth pulled together quickly, and filling and folding the wontons required just a bit of patience and dexterity, and got easier with practice. The delicious results only further encouraged me that I could make the soup in my own kitchen. Of course, I would do things a little differently, using ground chicken instead of pork and tracking down a recipe from Saveur, because of their emphasis on quality international cooking.

As with the other recipe, the broth and filling are straightforward mixtures, requiring some measuring, stirring, and boiling. The real fun begins when you fold the wontons. It is essential that the edges of each wonton stay sealed so none of the filling leaks out during cooking; this means brushing any place the edges meet with water, and doing so as many times as needed (having a bowl of water to dip your fingers in helps with this process). The other essential is not overstuffing the wrappers. I know, it’s tempting to put a large dollop of filling in there, but too much means the wontons won’t seal and will fall apart in the broth. Thomas and I started with one teaspoon, but quickly found that just half a teaspoon of filling in each wonton was even better and made for easier folding.

While some talented folks can make their wontons into pretty shapes, I stick to the envelope method. After folding the wonton (with the filling inside) into a triangle, I brought together the right and left corners and sealed them together with water. Sometimes I left the top corner open, and other times I folded it down, resulting in a mix of open and closed envelopes. This is a good starter shape, but feel free to experiment with others (I’m hoping to develop enough talent to tie a small knot with the two corners, instead of simply folding them over).

After all that folding, I can safely say it’s well worth it. The wontons are the perfect little dumplings you’d hope they would be, with a flavorful filling. The broth is restorative and soothing in the way ginger broths always are. It’s a restaurant-worthy meal in your own kitchen, and a food project always worth making time for.

Wonton Soup
Adapted from Saveur

8 cups plus 2 tablespoons chicken broth
3 whole scallions (do not slice) plus 1 tablespoon minced
¼ cup thinly sliced pieces of fresh peeled ginger
1 ½ teaspoons minced fresh peeled ginger
2 ¼ teaspoons corn starch
¼ pound ground chicken or pork
1 tablespoon soy sauce
2 ¼ teaspoons sherry
1 teaspoon olive or sesame oil
Pinch of sugar
30 to 35 wonton wrappers
1 cup spinach leaves, coarsely chopped

1. In a large pot, combine 8 cups chicken broth, whole scallions, and thinly sliced ginger. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and cover. Let simmer for 10 minutes.
2. While the broth is simmering, make the filling: In a large bowl, combine 2 tablespoons chicken broth and cornstarch, mixing well. Add minced scallions, minced ginger, chicken, soy sauce, sherry, olive oil, and sugar. Stir to combine ingredients.
3. Fill a small bowl with cold water. Place a wonton wrapper in front of you, and brush the edges with water. Using a half-teaspoon measure, place filling in the center of the wrapper. Fold the wrapper to form a triangle. Seal the edges with water. Bring together the left and right corners. Seal with water (and seal any openings that have popped open in the folding process). You can fold down the top corner to form an envelope, or leave it open. Place wontons on a foil-lined baking sheet; cover with a damp cloth to prevent drying. (While working, keep the wrappers from drying out by covering with a damp paper towel.)
4. Cover broth and bring to a boil a second time. Reduce heat to medium-low and carefully add wontons one at a time (a slotted spoon works well here). Cook wontons for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add spinach and cook 30 seconds more, or until wilted.

A good day for lentil and roasted vegetable soup

In January, one of the phrases I use the most (besides “It’s cold!” and “I hope it doesn’t snow”) is “It’s a good day for soup.” I’ve already said it at least twice this week, when the days have been clear and sunny but also brisk and cold. Frost clings to everything; the puddles on the sidewalk have turned to ice. Accordingly, my thoughts have turned to soup,  including this lentil soup.

This particular lentil soup combines many of my favorite things, such as roasted root vegetables, balsamic vinegar, and Swiss chard, just slightly wilted in a flavorful broth. The ingredients could not be more “winter,” but there’s a liveliness to it (helped by a subtle hint of balsamic), and the colors—bright green chard, deeply orange carrots—are as refreshing as the sunshine, even on a day that’s covered in frost and snow speculations.

Within this soup recipe, there’s a smaller recipe that’s good to have in your repertoire: roasted vegetables. This recipe uses sweet potato, parsnip, and carrot, but the method works for other roots, such as regular potatoes and yams. Roasted root vegetables work in a salad (perhaps with chard or kale) or over rice or another grain. If soup is not your thing, you could toss the roasted vegetables with lentils and sautéed shallots and onion, and mix it all with some coarsely chopped chard.

But, if soup is your thing (and really, I cannot think of a better meal for a cold January night), then you’ll want to add some broth to the mix. The original recipe also called for pancetta, but I nixed it and made a vegetarian version instead, which I can assure you is a good route to take (there’s something about soggy bits of ham in broth that I just can’t stand. If I were adding meat, I’d go for chopped chicken breast, instead). The balsamic is a subtle but enriching taste, providing flavor to a broth surrounding pieces of sublime roasted vegetable, delicate shallots and onion, and chard, which adds a welcome change from the usual texture of lentil soup.

When I say “It’s a good day for soup,” it could just be another way of saying “It’s cold!” But I’d like to think it sounds less like complaining and more like enjoying the opportunity to curl up with a bowl of soup that warms me from head to toe. With a recipe like this, I’ll be saying “It’s a good day for soup” for as long as the winter lasts.

Lentil and Roasted Vegetable Soup
Adapted from Cooking Light

1 2/3 cups cubed sweet potato (from about 8 ounces sweet potato)
1 2/3 cups peeled and cubed parsnip (from about 8 ounces parsnip)
1 2/3 cups peeled carrot (from about 8 ounces carrot)
3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup diced shallots (I used about three large ones)
1 cup diced red onion
½ tablespoon dried thyme
1 tablespoon minced garlic
¼ cup dry white wine (I used Sauvignon Blanc)
1 ¼ cups dried lentils, rinsed
6 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1 bunch Swiss chard, chopped (you can trim off the bottom stems, but the rib running down the middle of the leaves is good to keep attached)

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In a large bowl, combine the sweet potato, parsnip, carrot, 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar, 2 tablespoons olive oil, and salt to taste. Line a baking sheet with foil. Spread vegetables in a single layer on baking sheet. Bake for 30 minutes, stirring once halfway through (if you forget to stir, that is okay).  Set vegetables aside.
2. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in a large pot over medium-high heat. Add shallots and onion, and cook for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until golden brown.
3. Add 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar, thyme, garlic, and black pepper to taste. Cook for 1 minute, then add wine to deglaze the pan (you’ll want to scrape up and stir in the browned bits that come loose from the bottom of the pan; they add a lot of flavor).
4. Add lentils and 4 cups broth to pot. Bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat, and let simmer for 30 minutes. Add 2 cups broth, 3 cups water, and roasted vegetables; let simmer 15 minutes, uncovered. Add chard and allow soup to simmer briefly (about 2 minutes) to slightly wilt the chard.