Saturday, April 7, 2018

Big soup

I remember, growing up in Britain in the 60s and 70s, that food was beginning to change.  At some point, when I was around 7 or so, I guess, my mum took a Cordon Bleu cooking course, and got more adventurous with what she cooked.

I was then (as Skibo is now) a food sceptic.  I didn't like very many dishes, would screw up my face and make unpleasant comments, and no doubt drove my parents crazy.  Skibo, as I say, is following in my footsteps.  Unfortunately, he's too old to fall for the trick my father played when I was nine or ten: he announced a family competition to see who liked the most different foods: somehow he convinced me that it would be a prestigious competition to win, and sure enough, I declared that I liked this, that, and the other.  And of course, he rigged it so I would win.  From then on, I was open to eating most things: there are still things that I actively dislike (melons, for example!) but I'm somewhat more open to trying new foods.

For a while now, I've been attempting to recreate a soup my mother used to make: her version of minestrone.  Since it's a sense memory, and I don't have her recipe, it's been a bit of a struggle.  I have not succeeded, but I have succeeded in making a delicious soup.  It's not so much a recipe as it is a method: the two keys for me are pancetta and parmesan rind: the rest of the ingredients can be chosen and played with according to what is in season or available in the store.  The pasta should be small, so it is a feature, but not the star: and remember, pasta swells immensely when cooked.

Old age is beginning to take its toll: I went to write this recipe up after I made the soup this week, without a recipe to follow slavishly: only to discover that my other (newer) laptop already had the 
following recipe written down.  The only small difference is that this time I didn't include the potatoes, and the pasta that I used was small rings, perhaps 6-7 mm in diameter, which swelled to about twice that with loving application of heat and liquid.

This soup is not a delicate shy dish: it is a big, bold, brash, full of flavour meal.  I found one site that claimed that the name translates as "big soup": I don't think that that is quite the case, but it is descriptive, hence the title above.

This post may seem to be about food, but it's more about family.  I'm deeply grateful for the love of food that my parents helped me learn to find, and for the love of cooking that my mother sparked!

Yours, in gratitude, to two people I can no longer say thank you to,

Minestrone Soup
1 tablespoon olive oil
4 oz pancetta, chopped small
1 medium onion, diced
6 cloves garlic, minced
2 carrots, diced
2 ribs celery, diced
1 28 oz can diced tomatoes
1 15 oz can cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 yellow squash, diced
6 small red potatoes, diced
Handful of green beans, cut into 1-inch pieces
Parmesan rind
4 cups stock
Couple cups spinach or kale, chopped
Red wine vinegar
1 cup small pasta, such as orecchiette

Heat the oil in a large soup pot.  Saute the pancetta until it is beginning to crispen,
and has rendered its fat.  Add the onion, and saute for a couple of minutes.  Add the garlic,
and stir for a minute, then add the carrots, and celery.  Saute until the celery is softened.
Add the tomatoes and cannellini beans, thyme and salt and pepper to taste.
Add the squash, potatoes, green beans, parmesan rind and stock.
Bring it to a simmer, and simmer for an hour or so.  Add the chopped spinach and a splash of
red wine vinegar.
15 minutes before serving, add the pasta, making sure that the soup is at a simmer.

Serve with freshly baked bread and butter.

No comments: