Spinach and lentil soup revisited

We half live off soup during the winter months and have lots of home-cooked favourites - but I don't eat soup out that often any more as it so often has butter, milk or cream in it. So when I saw that the theme of Jaqueline and Lisa's No Croutons Required this month was copycats I was at a bit of a loss. Definitely the best soup I've eaten in a cafe or restaurant in years though was the spinach and lentil soup from Earth Cafe in Manchester which I already blogged about. When I tried to recreate it that time I put mushrooms in it, and made a nice soup, but not that like the original. But I have to admit that I have a cheat now. The soup was so amazing that I emailed the cafe afterwards to tell them, and to ask if I might possibly be able to have the recipe. Lovely people that they are, they estimated a recipe based on four people and sent it back to me. I don't like to reproduce it directly since they were so nice as to pass it on, but the copycat theme made me think to make a variant on it this week, based on what we had in the house. It was pretty much as good as the one I had at the cafe if memory serves correctly - thick and earthy and pleasingly green. The original recipe called for quite a lot more lentils than I used, but I made mine to eat the next day and it thickened up lots. If you're eating it straight away I'd think about adding some more.


Earth Cafe redux spinach and lentil soup
1 onion, chopped
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
1 Tbsp tomato puree
1 Tbsp dried thyme
200g red lentils
1.2 litres stock
Big load of spinach, washed

Fry onion and carrots in a little oil until soft. Add tomato puree and stir. Add lentils, thyme and stock, and simmer until lentils are done. Add spinach and let it wilt like crazy. Blend. Yum.

Earth Cafe is at 16-20 Turner Street, Manchester

Beetroot and rhubarb soup

I love home grown produce, but I have to admit that my own record in this regard is a bit patchy. So far this year I have failed at least as much as I've succeeded, although I have been very proud of my potatoes (grown in sacks), blueberries and rocket. My little apple and pear trees are looking a bit mournful just now, though I have just moved them into bigger pots to try and appease them, my tomatoes are ok-ish, and the strawberry plants bore fruit very briefly. The butternut squash plants which I planted from seed, and which shot to adolescence under Vicki's careful tending and sun lounge when we were on holiday got munched to bits the instant I put them in the beds, as did the courgette and the sweetcorn I bought at Kenilworth farmer's market. Evil slugs. I was very unhappy. So I have the utmost respect for anyone who manages a better crop - The Scientist's sister, for example, who has courgettes growing aplenty, and our friends E and D, who have a whole plot of rhubarb, broad beans, courgette and gooseberries. We went to visit E and D a couple of weekends ago to meet their new baby, and D very generously sent me off laden with goodies. The gooseberries became a fool, the broad beans went in a soup, and a lot of the rhubarb was stewed and eaten with yogurt for breakfast. I had a bit of rhubarb left though, and fancied making something savoury with it. I was tempted and inspired by Johanna's rhubarb dipping sauce, and Jacqueline's rhubarb and balsamic dressing. In the end I took elements from both, and partnered my rhubarb with some beetroot in a soup. I did find a recipe for this combination which gave me the clever idea of cooking each in turn in the same water. I liked Jacqueline's balsamic, but modified it to red wine vinegar, which is an ingredient in my favourite borscht recipe. I ended up eating the soup warm as it was a changeable sort of day, but I think it would be very nice cold as well. It was rich from the beetroot, with a slight sharpness from the rhubarb, which I think was enhanced by the vinegar. I was quite pleased as I rarely come up with my own recipes - though I have a number of sources to thank for my inspiration!


Rhubarb and beetroot soup
Served 2

3 small beetroots
2 small sticks of rhubarb
red wine vinegar, to taste.
yogurt, to taste

Cut the tops of the beetroot and place in a small pan of water. Bring to the boil, and cook for about 20 minutes, or until soft. Remove from the water with a slotted spoon, and set aside to cool.

Chop the rhubarb into inch long chunks, discarding the ends, and cook in the same liquid until soft - about five minutes or so. Remove from heat and leave to cool, reserving cooking liquid.

When the beetroot is cool enough to handle, slip off the skins, and chop roughly. Place in a small blender with the rhubarb and enough of the cooking water to make the consistency you like (start with a little and add more). Stir in red wine vinegar to taste, and season. You can stir yogurt through at this stage, or do as I did, and serve it on the top.

Roast chestnut, apple and parsnip soup

It's been a bit of a crazy old week, this one. Our semester started, so that meant lecturing and sorting out admin, we have a HUGE admin deadline coming up at work to revalidate our whole undergraduate programme, and a whole load of snow dumped itself on our doorstep at the start of the week. It does make me wonder how so many parts of the world cope so perfectly well with proper snow for half the year, when you see what a bit does to us. Norse God - how do you manage? Fortunately I was able to hunker down in the house with a heater and a hot water bottle (shaped like Bagpuss since you ask - much more snuggly) for most of the week, but on Thursday I had to brave the outside to get in for teaching. I left extra early, assuming that I wouldn't be able to cycle most of the way to the station, and the whole neighbourhood was beautifully white but eerily quiet. The snow had deadened all the sound, and since almost everyone else seemed to have decided to follow the hunkering down option I was practically the only person out, making shamefully mundane tracks in the virgin white snow. I did get on my bike once I was down on the main road, but even there it was very slushy and snowy, and all the cars were going at snail pace. Anyway, I got in ok which is more than some of my students who were still coming back to university from home managed.


All this is to say a) do you miss us and our weather, Kiwi Family?! and b) it is most definitely the weather for warming wintry soups. I've been wanting to try some savoury dishes using chestnuts for a while, and this recipe fortuitously appeared in a magazine recently (I think it was Sainsbury's magazine though I wouldn't swear to it). I don't generally like nuts, and chestnuts come up tediously regularly every Christmas as suggested vegetarian options so I've been a bit put off. But I'm trying to vary my intake of 'good fats' and liked the softer texture that chestnuts have compared with other nuts. They are also the lowest fat of the nuts, just for info. This soup teamed them up with parsnip, which we had just got in our veg box, and apples, which I would eat at every meal if I could. It took a bit of work to track down the chestnuts at the supermarket (they appear for Christmas and then gracefully retire for 11 months) but I was lucky and found some leftover seasonal boxes which were reduced.

This was a very good wintry, hearty, sweetish soup. I really liked the combination of sweet apple, creamy chestnut and distinctly flavoursome parsnip, and The Scientist was a fan too. We ate it with some apple and cider bread which I will post about soon as well. This is a soup I will definitely return to - but possibly not until chestnuts reappear in the supermarkets next December!!

Roast chestnuts, apple and parsnip soup (from Sainsbury's magazine, I think)
Makes 8 small cups or 4 regular servings

25g butter (I used less)
2 medium parsnips, peeled and chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
2 apples, peeled, cored and chopped
1 x 200g pack roasted chestnuts, roughly chopped (I followed the directions on the box to pierce the vacuum pack and microwave briefly first)
800ml hot stock

Melt the butter in a large pan and add the parsnips, celery and seasoning [I was a bit puzzled about this direction as there didn't seem to be any extra seasonings in the ingredients list. I tasted and seasoned as I went along though I have to admit that I can't remember exactly what herbs I added). Stir over a high heat for 4-6 minutes until the vegetables are lightly golden. Tip in the apples and cook, stirring occasionally, for another 4-5 minutes. Add the chestnuts, pour in the stock and simmer. Cook for another 5-10 minutes until the parsnips are tender, then remove from the heat. Using a blender, liquidise the soup until smooth. Return to the pan and adjust the seasoning. Thin with more water if you prefer it thinner, and serve with an optional swirl of cream.

Not-a-detox sweet potato, fennel and carrot soup

The Scientist and I are both creatures of habit in the morning and we each have an unvarying set of routines we have to stomp through before we transform into bright, cheerful and functioning people ready to face the day ahead. Our house is on three floors and our mornings are choreographed so beautifully that we can stumble in and out of bathroom, kitchen and bedroom and up and down stairs without ever crossing paths from first getting up to one or other of us being ready to leave the house an hour later. We both like to listen to Radio 4 as we dance lightly through our steps to awake-ness (I say 'dance lightly' - 'weave clumsily' is probably more accurate) but we don't necessarily hear any of the same stories as we variously wake, shower, dress and breakfast. All this is a long way of getting to the fact that The Scientist heard an interesting and amusing exchange on the Today Program yesterday about the merit of detox diets, but I missed it (asleep, in shower or failing to process words coming out of shiny box). One speaker was adamant that her company's detox diet removed heavy metals from the body, while a scientist and blogger's response was that this was complete piffle. Hard science appears to support him.


Our house runs on the Power of Science, and so I make absolutely no claims about the detoxing qualities of this soup. It does, however, contain sweet potatoes (high in vitamins A and C, beta-carotene, fibre and low GI), fennel (with anti-oxidant, anti-cancer and anti-inflammatory properties, and high in potassium, fibre and vitamin C), and carrots (good for carotenoids and vitamin C), and has some alfalfa sprouts served on the top (good for B12 and phyto-oestrogen, so a goodie for any female veggies in particular). And it was darned tasty, just what we needed after a chilly day: warming, wholesome and with an interesting hint of something fresh and aniseedy from the fennel. I'm sending this lovely flavoursome and healthy soup to Lisa and Holler for No Croutons Required, which is featuring nourishing veggie soups this month.

Sweet potato, fennel and carrot soup with alfalfa sprouts
Serves 4

1 onion, diced
1 clove of garlic, minced
1 large sweet potato, peeled and chopped into chunks
1 fennel bulb, base and any wilty bits removed, chopped into chunks
2 carrots, peeled and chopped into chunks
Approx 1 1/2 pints veggie stock

Fry the onion and garlic in a little oil until soft. Add the veggies and cook briefly, then add the stock. Bring to the boil and then simmer on a low heat for about 20 mins or until veggies are soft. Blitz to a puree and season according to taste - I just added some pepper as the flavours were so nice. Serve with a spoonful of alfalfa sprouts as a garnish.

Tomato soup with Israeli couscous

I first came across Israeli couscous (funnily enough) in Israel where my reaction to it was only bemusement that Israel Grandma was referring to such a funny, thick, pasta-esque food as couscous. We just ate it boiled and it was pretty nice, but when I got back I suddenly started wanting to revisit it. You see, M&S do a delicious roasted squash and Israeli couscous salad - but they don't sell the couscous on its own. After looking in every ethnic supermarket I passed I had almost given up when where should it turn up but at the wonderful Bill's in Brighton! I bought some and used it up pretty quickly in salads. Luckily I stumbled upon some more in a more mundane location - Munchkin Granny's local Tesco - and stocked up. So when Lisa and Holler announced that this month's No Croutons Required was based on pasta soups I thought immediately of my inappropriately-named little friends.


It seems appropriate, although completely coincidental, that I found my inspiration in my Jewish Traditions cookbook - a tomato soup with Israeli couscous. I don't make brothy soups very often but the picture of this one looked so enticing that I made it exactly as it suggested (except for skipping the mint which I don't like). It was really quick - I put it all together after coming back from the gym and was eating within half an hour of coming through the door. It was tasty, brothy, spicy and chewy which I thought was a pretty impressive set of adjectives for such a simple soup. You could use any pasta but I did particularly like the small chewy 'mouthfeel' of the couscous - think barley but made of pasta if that makes any sense.

Tomato soup with Israeli couscous (from Jewish Traditions cookbook)
The only changes I made were to halve the quantity, use much less oil, leave out the mint and throw in a random ripe tomato with the tinned ones. This is the full and original version.

Serves four to six

2 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, chopped
1-2 carrots, diced
1 tin chopped tomatoes
6 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
2 1/2 pints veg stock
200g-250g Israeli couscous
2-3 mint sprigs, chopped, or several pinches of dried mint
1/4 tsp ground cumin
1/4 bunch fresh coriander or about 4 sprigs, chopped
cayenne pepper, to taste
salt and ground black pepper

1. Heat the oil in a large pan, add the onion and carrots, and cook gently for about 10 minutes until softened. Add the tomatoes, half the garlic, the stock, couscous, mint, ground cumin and coriander, with the cayenne pepper, salt and pepper to taste.

2. Bring the soup to the boil, add the remaining chopped garlic, then reduce the heat slightly and simmer gently for 7-10 mins, stirring occasionally, or until the couscous is just tender. Serve piping hot, ladled into individual serving bowls.

Mushroom and barley soup

I spent last Sunday in a lovely haze of pottering. The Scientist was still away at his gaming convention and I used the time to catch up on some sewing, some tidying - and a little mushroom indulgence. This mushroom and barley soup is a Moosewood favourite I've made before, but not for some time. It's quite long on preparation time - you need to pre-soak the dried mushrooms and then prep the veggies before leaving the whole lot to cook for 45 minutes, but as long as you're a bit organised it's not much actual effort. It's a light and brothy soup which isn't my usual leaning, but I love the chew of the barley and the mushrooms and they'd be lost - or at least something else entirely - in a blended thick soup. The mushroom soaking liquid become the basis for the stock as well, so it's all nice and flavoursome. I made it for lunch and got on with my latest quilt project while it was simmering. I burnt my mouth on it because I like things very hot, but forgot just how hot brothy soups can be!


Dried mushroom soup with barley (from Moosewood Low Fat Favourites)
Serves 4 - 8

2/3 cup dried mushrooms
6 cups boiling water
1 tsp veg oil
2 cups chopped onion (2 onions)
2 garlic cloves, pressed or minced
1 cup finely chopped celery (3 stalks)
1 cup peeled and finely chopped carrots (2 medium)
3 cups sliced mushrooms (about 10oz)
1/4 cup soy sauce
pinch dried thyme
1/4 tsp ground black pepper
1/2 cup raw pearl barley
1/4 cup dry sherry or 2 tsp honey (optional - I omitted it)
salt and pepper, to taste

Ina saucepan, cover the dried mushrooms with 6 cups of boiling water. Simmer for 15 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside for at least 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, warm the oil in a soup pot on low heat. Add the onions and garlic, cover, and cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the celery and carrots and cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add fresh mushrooms, increase the heat to medium, and cook, stirring continuously for about 3 minutes, until the mushrooms begin to release their juices. Remove from the heat and set aside.

Drain the dried mushrooms, reserving the mushroom stock. Cut off and discard any tough stems, then rinse and chop the mushrooms. Strain the stock through a sieve or a paper filter. Add enough water to the stock to make 7 cups of liquid. Add the chopped dried mushrooms, mushroom stock, soy sauce, thyme, pepper, barley, and optional sherry or honey to the pot sauteed vegetables. Bring to a boil and then cover, reduce the heat, and simmer for 45 minutes.

When ready to serve, add salt and pepper to taste. Add more water if it's reduced down and become too thick.

Roasted and toasted squash and corn soup

This is the third soup I've made for this month's 'hearty' edition of Lisa and Holler's No Croutons Required event, but the only one I've actually managed to photograph. The first was a roasted beetroot, tomato and pepper soup, and the second was a broccoli, bean and pasta broth, both of which were very nice, but which got supped away while my camera slumbered. So here, at last, is my contribution, and probably the heartiest of all.


It was inspired by the perfectly hearty and autumnal squash, and by the gorgeous corn we've been getting in our veg box. The cooking method was, I have to admit, prompted entirely by the happy thought that I could call it a 'roasty and toasty soup' but I think that both roasting the squash and toasting the corn added a lot of extra flavour. The extra veggies - leek and pepper - were what I had to hand (in fact the pepper was a surprise bonus which had got hidden in the veggie basket!). Squash is the quintessential autumn flavour for me, and this is a lovely soup for a chilly evening - thick, hearty and comforting.

Roasty toasty soup
Makes about 4 servings

1 butternut squash, peeled, de-seeded and diced
2-3 garlic cloves, chopped finely or crushed
half to one onion, diced
Half a red pepper, chopped
a leek, chopped
About 650-700ml veg stock
The kernels from one ear of corn

Spread the squash out over a baking tray and scatter the garlic over the top. Spray/drizzle with oil and bake at 200C for about 25 mins until soft.

Put onion in a pan and cover with stock. Simmer for about ten minutes, then add pepper, leeks, and more stock to cover, and simmer for a further 10 mins or so, until soft.

Toast sweetcorn kernels under the grill until crispy

Add squash to the pan and simmer briefly to warm up. Blend soup and season to taste. Add half the corn and blend, then scatter the rest over the top.

Autumnal joys: Riverford-inspired English apple and leek soup

There's no denying that autumn is well set in here. I was hoping for a last dalliance with summer, but I think that all chances of that are gone. I always get very sad at this time of year in anticipation of losing the long summer evenings, but today the gently crisp September evening reminded me of all the things I like about autumn. In fact autumn is probably my favourite season once I get over summer's passing, and most of the benefits relate to food (English apples and squashes) and clothing (thick tights, boots and skirts). I am already planning what to wear to work once teaching starts again next week, and I've been joyfully buying up supplies of Discovery apples wherever I go.

Usually I just eat my apples as a mid-morning snack, or occasionally put them in a crumble or pie. This soup was inspired by our new Riverford Farm cookbook, purchased after our glorious lunch there last week. It's designed to accompany the veg boxes, and so is organised alphabetically by vegetable (and I've just noticed that it's half price on amazon :) ). Each section is prefaced by a little discussion of how they grow the veg, its problems and talents (problems include badgers getting into the pumpkin patch and rolling them around like balls), and ideas on how to cook them. There are then several good-sounding recipes, and a list of easy ideas. There are also periodic thoughtful reflections on matters like 'dirt', organic farming, food miles and farming. I'm really looking forward to using it for ideas for those tricky vegetables like kale which hang around in large quantities in the fridge and make you sick to death of stir fries. The idea for the apple soup came from one of the 'easy ideas' in the apple section. I wanted something a bit heartier so I did a version where apples (bought from the Riverford shop) were partnered by leeks - another of my favourite veggies. I kept in the originally combination of spices although I was a little unsure as to how they would pair with the leeks, but in fact the resulting soup was very flavoursome. The apples gave it a much lighter taste than the more traditional leek and potato, and the soup had a pleasingly light green hue - think fairy green rather than hearty autumn green. We were both very pleased with the result, and it's been added to our list of standby soups. We ate it with French bread for a simple supper after our long road trip back from Devon. My write-up of the spice quantities is a bit rough as I just shook some from the container into the pot, but it's one that can adapt easily to tastes anyway.

This fairy-green English soup is my contribution to this month's No Croutons Required, which had fruit as its theme this month.

English apple and leek soup (inspired by the Riverford Organics cookbook)
Made three to four servings

1 onion, chopped
2 leeks, sliced thickly
3 apples, peeled, cored and diced
1/2 tsp each of turmeric, cumin and coriander
pinch of cayenne and cinnamon
about 650ml hot stock

Fry onions gently in a little oil or butter until soft. Add sliced leeks and continue to cook gently for a few more minutes. Leeks take on a very nice taste when cooked in butter so that might be a good reason to use that instead of oil. Add chopped apple, all the spices and the stock to cover. Simmer for about 20 mins, then liquidize, season and add a shake of lemon juice.

Lentil and spinach soup

My trip to Manchester last week went well on the work front, and my foodie experiences also went up a notch when Dogophile Vegan Nurse came over from Leeds to join me for a few hours on Thursday. We met at 10.30 and since she was feeling peckish we headed over to a Buddhist vegetarian place she'd visited before called Earth Cafe. I have to admit that I had imagined a very wool-shirt and worthiness type of place from the way she described it, but in fact it's a bright and comfy place with counter service and very friendly staff who work towards being mindful and ethical in the way they run their business. And the food was *amazing*. At our elevenses visit I had a peach smoothie (very nice and fruity) and DVN had some lentil and spinach soup with a hearty side of bread, and a beetroot and carrot juice. The juice-ista (which should definitely be a word) apologised that it hadn't come out in three stripes of different colours in the glass, but it was very nice and such a nice purple shade that we would never have thought it looked odd. I tasted a bit of the soup and it was so good that when I got hungry for lunch less than an hour after we left we rather sheepishly just turned back to Earth Cafe again. There's no way we could pretend we weren't the same people - I'm a giant and VDN is little, plus I had the most ginormous bag on my back, but hey, what cafe is going to get upset its customers are coming back so soon?! This time I had the soup and DVN had a vegan strawberry cake, which was a little bready and with a very sweet icing, but good all the same. Other tempting options included a daal, some veggie burgers, and a harira soup which is a regular (the lentil and spinach was a special).


My lunch reminded me how much I love lentil soup and how I ought to try to recreate this particular one at home. It didn't have any particular strong flavour - no noticeable spiciness or lemoniness for example, just a really good hearty earthy lentiliness. I elected to start my home version quite simply with the thought that I could build it up by iterations in the future. I used a standard onion-garlic-celery base, but also added some soaked dried mushrooms and their liquid because I thought it would be a nice extra layer of flavour. It wasn't like the one in the cafe, but definitely a good extra taste. I also used more spinach than the original if the much greener shade of my soup was anything to go by. Flavour-wise, I added an Italian herb mix and some thyme, and then at the end, some soy sauce and some pepper.

The finished soup was very nice indeed, and with some home-made soda bread definitely merited an appreciative lunch wiggle. It didn't quite have Earth Cafe's earthiness and I'm quite intrigued to know what the missing ingredient was. I even emailed them to ask if they'd share the recipe, but that was only yesterday so they haven't had a chance to reply yet.
DVN wondered if there was tomato in it, so that might be another avenue to try next time. In the meantime I'm quite pleased to have conjured something along the same lines - and it even bypasses the worries about posting recipes from other cookbooks I mentioned a couple of posts ago! If you're in Manchester, I'd definitely recommend Earth Cafe -16-20 Turner Street, Northern Quarter, Manchester M4 1DZ, 0161 8341996, open Tues-Fri 10am-7pm and Sat 10am-5pm. I might even have to fabricate a reason for a return trip to the archive just so I can go back!
PS, forgot to say - it's *really* good value, too!

Lentil and spinach soup
Serves two, generously

half an onion
one clove of garlic
half a celery stick
small handful of dried mushrooms
3/4 cup-ish of red lentils
1/2 tsp - 1tsp dried thyme
sprinkle of mixed Italian herbs
300-400ml hot stock
big handful of spinach (I actually used about 5 balls of frozen spinach)
splash of soy sauce, to taste

Soak the dried mushrooms in hot water for about 10 mins. Warm a little oil in a saucepan, and cook onion, garlic and celery to soften. Drain the mushrooms, keeping the liquid, and chop. Add mushrooms, their liquid, the lentils and herbs to the pan. Add stock and bring to the boil. Lower heat and simmer about 15 mins. Add spinach (mine was frozen - if using fresh perhaps let the flavours develop a little longer first since it won't take as long to cook). Blend and season with pepper and soy sauce to taste.

Bottom of the biscuit tin soup

I'm away on another research trip, this time in Manchester, and I've just had the funniest dinner. I don't much like eating out alone and since I'm away for two nights I thought I'd bring dinner for the first evening with me. But then eating cold leftovers from a tupperware pot in your hotel room can be pretty soul-sapping too, so I decided to be ingenious and make something that was at least hot. Relatively healthy hot options when your only cooking device is a kettle is tricky, but I brought a packet of flavoured couscous with me which could be rehydrated with hot water, and a small pot of defrosted frozen veggies. I emptied a small ceramic pot I found in the bathroom of its freebie toiletries and used it to hold my couscous as it rehydrated with water from the kettle. I considered putting the tupperware pot of veggies directly into the kettle to at least warm up, but luckily I mentioned my idea to The Scientist last night and he cautioned against letting the pot rest on the element in the kettle (I really hope I would have thought of this before I actually melted it but am not entirely confident!). So I abandoned that, and instead cast about and lit upon a long container which was holding the tea and coffee bags in my room which I thought could serve as a bain marie for my little pot. The peas did fine - a little crunchy but I like them like that anyway. The carrots could have done with a bit more effective warming, but were perfectly acceptable. So I managed to eat a warm and healthy dinner using a variety of hotel dishes and felt like Johnny Ball at the same time. I wished I'd had my camera so I could capture my comedy dinner, but I'd left it at home, and am about the last person in the world whose mobile phone doesn't have a camera in it.


Anyway my hotel room might be poky, my dinner might be improvised, and my best beloveds might be several counties away but I do at least have internet access. And so to the soup. I should say straight away that it doesn't actually have biscuits in it. 'Bottom of the biscuit barrel' is how Granny Munchkin and her brothers used to refer to meals that were made of leftover odds and ends - based, I believe, on improvised desserts by Israel Grandma which did actually feature the crumbs at the bottom of the biscuit tin. And that exactly describes my soup, which was put together to use up some British asparagus which was past its prime, some beetroot leaves which I couldn't bring myself to bin, and some soya beans I'd found reduced at the supermarket. I left the soup brothy which is unusual for me, but I fancied getting the crunch of the whole beans. The flavour combination worked really well, although I have to admit that I can't quite remember now what herbs I added. In the spirit of the soup I think you should use whatever you have to hand. I also liked it that the soup had a distinct purple hue which must have come from the beetroot stalks. I took it to work with me, hence the weird tupperware picture (it seems this meal is linked to tonight's experience after all!). Next to the soup is a rosemary scone I made to use up more of the rosemary I was given at the Taste Festival. Of course I made too much, and some of the rest of the veggies got turned into a tagine with some couscous. After that I called it quits - bottom of the bottom of the biscuit barrel is as far as I'll go. I feel justified in posting this recipe since it's home-devised, and anyway, so vague as to be almost completely unhelpful anyway :)


Bottom of the biscuit tin soup
Makes an unhelpful two and a half portions

half an onion
leaves and stalks from one bunch of beetroot, chopped
half a bundle of asparagus, chopped small
small container of fresh soya beans
stock, to cover and then some
handful of whatever fresh herbs you have to hand - I'm pretty sure I used chives
salt, pepper and any other dried herbs, to taste (isn't that a helpful direction?)

Chop onion and sweat until soft in a little oil. Then add all the veggies and stir to soften. Add hot stock and simmer for about 20 mins, until everything is soft. Add herbs, and salt and pepper to taste.

Chilled summer borscht

I do like a good soup for lunch, and they're especially comforting in the depths of winter. I like them so much that I'll still make our favourites in the summer sometimes, but I do branch out into a variety of chilled summer soups, too. As I mentioned before, The Scientist doesn't like cold soup, but we've found a few which do well at either end of the temperature spectrum. One of my favourites is borscht, which is a Russian beetroot soup. Served chilled, it's really refreshing, sweetish (just the natural sweetness from the beetroot) and a very satisfying shade of vibrant purple. Served warm it's back in the comforting zone, and I like to contrast its warmth with little swirls of chilled yogurt.


I also like borscht because it was a favourite of our Grandad's, who ate it as a child. Grandad was always endearingly vague on the details of his childhood memories, and claimed not to remember anything from his youth. Sadly he died the same year as Israel Grandpa, just managing through sheer force of will to hang on to hold his first great-grandchild - the Munchkin. However, the borscht had somehow stuck in his memory, and I think it was a dish one of his grandmothers used to make. His family had emigrated from Russia at the start of the last century, and he grew up living with both his grandmothers, who, amazingly, didn't speak to each other. None of that is related to the Russian-ness, but their origins do explain the borscht. Grandad and Granny T used to make it in summer and we had it with them quite often. Their house, where Granny T still lives, is near Brighton and The Scientist and I spent a lot of time with them while we lived in Lewes. Having lived hundreds of miles away through most of our childhood it was lovely to be able to get to know them better, especially since Grandad got ill soon after we moved to the south coast. We spent all the Christmases of our childhood with them, and they had one of those amazing houses which could always stretch to fit two or three more children in, produce just a bit more food, and always contained an adult who was willing to play board games with you (actually that was always Granny T who has the endurance of a coppit-playing saint). I never realised how much of an exercise in planning Christmas dinner was until very recently, as a huge feast would just roll seemingly effortlessly out of their kitchen. Those memories are all of roast parsnips, meringues and fruit cake, but now borscht has joined the list of foods that will always make me think of them.

I looked out for beetroot at the farmer's market this week with this soup particularly in mind, but was especially gratified to find some in such an unusual shape!

Is this the brightest and cheeriest soup in the world?

I'm sure there are many many slight variations on the recipe, but I like to use the one from Entertaining with Cranks because it's the same book Grandad and Granny T used. It suggests that you add sour cream to the chilled soup, but I just put a pot of yogurt on the table for people to add as they like. Without the sour cream it makes more like five helpings than six, (four when you're catering for The Scientist) but that's as a main course with bread rather than as starters. Actually I find I don't care for bread so much with it when it's chilled, but some crunchy croutons might be nice. It's a very easy one to make, but of course everything you touch once you've started will get dyed purple.

Iced borscht (from Entertaining with Cranks)

Serves 6

2 tsp oil
1 chopped, medium sized onion
450g grated raw beetroot [I don't grate or chop by hand any of the vegetables but spin them in chunks in the food processor instead - much easier and less purple]
1 diced small carrot
1 diced small potato
900ml vegetable stock
2 tbsp red wine vinegar or lemon juice
1 tbsp tomato puree
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
generous pinch ground bayleaf [I just put a whole leaf in, which I have just realised to my embarrassment that I forgot to take out and must have pureed! I'm glad The Scientist doesn't read the recipe part of my posts]
generous pinch ground cloves
1/2 pint soured cream or Greek yogurt [I serve this separately]
salt and pepper, to taste
chopped chives to garnish

Heat the oil in a large saucepan and saute the onion and beetroot, stirring occasionally, for 5 mins. Add the carrot and potato, stock, vinegar, tomato puree and spices. Bring to the boil, reduce the heat, cover and simmer for about 1 hour until the beetroot is tender. Allow to cool and then puree. Chill. Stir in about three quarters of the soured cream and adjust seasoning to taste. To serve ladle the borscht into individual bowls and garnish with a spoonful of soured cream and sprinkle with chopped chives.

Luminous soup!

This soup wasn't quite as neon-coloured as this in reality. It must have been the bright sun at lunchtime (sorry Kiwi Sis - I know it's pretty chilly with you, but you were out in the paddling pool while we were huddled in our big jerseys). With a nice run of warm days recently, my mind has turned to chilled summer soups. Summer soups have to be adaptable in our house so that they can be cold for me and hot for The Scientist. This is one I've tended to make for solitary lunches, but it's very nice at both ends of the temperature scale. It's a good showcase for the seasonal wonder that is British asparagus, and is very healthy, too. I do often swirl some plain or Greek yogurt into it but today I added cottage cheese, which is surprisingly nice in soup. I got the recipe (reproduced below) from the Sunday Time Style supplement about a year or two ago, and make sure it comes out every spring. I have some other chilled (or not) soups planned for the next few weeks, so will keep this theme coming.


We bought some new garden furniture at the weekend in the hope that we could eat outside with Eco Sis and Bro - but of course it wasn't warm enough that particular evening. So we had our inaugural al fresco meal tonight, courtesy of The Scientist. He fried halloumi, toasted some pitta, and made a little lime vinaigrette (mix juice and zest of two limes, a dash of oil, and a crackle of pepper). We had lots of salads left over from the weekend and it all came together to a very nice little meal. The cats love it when we're in and out of the patio door (and we love it too, after living in a flat with no direct access to the very overlooked garden for four years). Pooky is a little worried about the new furniture, and tends to flee when he sees us coming out holding anything, but he soon settled down when he realised that dinner wasn't going to do anything bad to him. He played some excellent football with some biodegradable plant pots he found lying around, segueing briefly and effortlessly into volleyball, and then abruptly needed a lie down on the patio. The photo's not his best but he's not too sure about the camera either - most stuff makes Pook go wide eyed, poor little boy.


Asparagus Soup (from the Sunday Times)
Serves 4 (apparently, but the batch I made will only do two for main course sized portions)

1½ tbsp olive oil
1 onion, finely diced
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
500g (2 bunches) asparagus, trimmed
500ml good chicken stock [I use vegetable, of course]
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 tbsp low-fat crème fraîche [I don't normally bother, but sometimes use yogurt instead]
1 tbsp chives, finely chopped

Heat a saucepan over a medium-low flame. Once hot, add the oil, followed by the onion and garlic. Cover, reduce the heat to low and gently fry for 15 minutes or until the onion is meltingly soft and golden.

Meanwhile, wash the trimmed asparagus in a sink filled with cold water, then cut off the tips and set aside. Continue by finely slicing the asparagus stems; the pieces should be roughly the size of peas. As soon as the onions are soft, add the stock and bring up to a full rolling boil. Add the sliced asparagus stems and boil for about 10 minutes or until they are soft.

While the soup is cooking, drop the asparagus tips into a saucepan of salted boiling water. Cook for 3 minutes or until tender, then drain into a colander and cool under cold running water. Set aside. [I find that if you've made this in advance and are reheating it, you can just cook the asparagus tips in the soup rather than boil some water separately]

Purée the soup, season to taste and transfer to a clean pan or bowl — depending on whether you are serving it hot or cold. Add the asparagus tips. If you are serving it hot, gently reheat; if cold, cover and chill. In either case, when serving, add a swirl of crème fraîche to each portion of soup. Garnish with the chives.

Spring watercress soup

Here’s another product of our trip to the watercress festival at Alresford last weekend: watercress soup. But first, here is a picture of the lovely Alresford itself which I’d forgotten I’d taken:

Watercress soup has had a bit of a bad press over the years as it’s one of the faddy weight-loss foods you subsist on until you’re nothing bit a bit of green string yourself. I made a nice watercress, pea, asparagus and courgette soup last year which was much more substantial though, and just sang ‘spring’. I was going to go for that again with my Alresford cress, but then I saw a recipe which was actually called ‘spring soup’ while flicking through Moosewood Low Fat Favourites and incorporated some of their flavours too. In particular, theirs also had carrot in it, and some pasta which I liked the sound of. I used edamame beans instead of their lima beans (I never knew until last week that edamame beans are the same as soya beans). Their soup was a brothy one, but I quite like nice thick soups (and wasn’t sure how appetising bits of watercress would be) so I cooked the pasta separately, blended the soup, and then added the pasta to it at the end. I meant to cook one person’s worth, but ended up with three good portions, so so much for my maths! The recipe is very rough – just use what you have! It wasn’t the most photogenic soup in the world but it tasted really good – nice and fresh but good and filling. In fact I had to go and collapse for a bit after eating a bowl, so it’s definitely not in the stringy water category – though still nice and healthy.

Spring watercress soup (adapted from Moosewood Low Fat Favourites)

Made three portions

1 garlic clove, finely chopped
Half an onion, chopped
1 carrot, peeled and diced
½ tsp dried thyme [of course, you could use fresh herbs – just double the quantity]
½ tsp dried basil
1/8 cup of water
3 cups stock
2 tomatoes, chopped
1 cup edamame beans [the original recipe was for butter beans, and they also used green peas. I decided I had enough veggies already]
Half a bundle or so of asparagus. [they say cut into 1-inch lengths. I chopped them much smaller since I was going to blitz it, and reserved the tips which I steamed separately and added to the finished soup]
Handful of small pasta shapes – I used little stars
½ tsp salt
½ tbsp lemon juice
Handful watercress, chopped [I didn’t use the stems though I thought later that I probably could have done]

In a covered soup pot on a low heat, cook the garlic, onion, carrot, thyme and basil in the water until the veggies have softened – about 10 mins. Add the stock and tomatoes and bring to a boil. Add the beans, asparagus and watercress and return to a boil. Cook until soft, adding the salt and lemon juice about half way through. In a separate pot cook the pasta until al dente. Blitz up the soup using a hand-held blender, and then add the pasta. Serve hot.

Spicy soup

The theme for Lisa and Holler’s No Croutons Required event this month is ‘spicy soups’. I’d pondered what I could make for a while, but was feeling uninspired, and had pretty much decided to give it a miss this month. I made quite a nice Vietnamese hot and sour soup a little while ago, but it required speciality ingredients, and I’ve been too busy during the day to get to the Asian supermarket. Then on Tuesday I was making soup during my lunchbreak for us to have for supper, and as I reached for the cumin, cayenne and coriander, a small lightbulb went on it my head. ‘You seem to be making a spicy soup’, it said. And so I was. So here, after all, is my contribution to No Croutons Required – a spicy parsnip and carrot soup. I upped all the spice quantities to make it good and tasty, and it achieved a nice warming on the tongue as the flavour developed. I was pleased about that as I don’t like very hot things, and occasionally undermine my own dinner by trying to please both of our palates!

I returned to my desk as it was simmering, and was amused to find that Holler had meanwhile posted her own entry, which was also curried parsnip, but luckily paired with sweet potatoes, so I don’t look like a complete copy cat. She added mango chutney to hers which I thought sounded very fine, but The Scientist wasn’t so keen on that so I just served it as a condiment. We ate ours with dark rye bread and cheese, and jolly good and warming it was too. Although I’m very pleased that spring is slowly arriving, I’ll be sorry to say goodbye to wintry soups and squashes. Still, fresh berries and beans will make up for it – as will lovely long light evenings (I’m trying to make sure that Kiwi Family remember why they’re planning to return home eventually!)

The soup recipe was based on one from Moosewood Low Fat Favourites but I simplified it by doing it all in one pot. My version is roughly as follows:

Spicy carrot and parsnip soup

Makes about 3 servings

1 onion, roughly chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
2 medium parsnips, peeled and chopped
4 medium carrots ditto
750 ml hot stock
About 1 tsp each of coriander, cumin and cinnamon (I ended up using probably almost double this)
About ½ tsp each cayenne pepper and turmeric

Fry onion and garlic in some oil until soft. Add all spices and fry for another minute or so. Add chopped vegetables and stock, and leave to simmer for about half an hour. Blend (off the heat) and check seasonings. Place random leaves found in fridge on the top to make it look nicer in photograph (in this case, celery). Eat, in a farewell to wintry days.