Soul-Warming Curried Pumpkin Soup

Hello, my darling readers.
I'll skip the apology for the fact that it has once again been far too long since I've updated this blog. By now, we all know that "life happens", and we can't always summon up the time and/or energy needed to tend to projects we love. Sometimes we just need to focus on the tasks at hand and muddle through as best we can.

The maelstrom seems to have passed for the time being (**fingers crossed**), and I actually find myself with a few spare moments to update this wee blog of mine. Autumn is settling in with all her finery, blessing the woods here with every shade of gold and crimson.

It's the turning point of the year, when summer's vibrancy eases into winter's chill. An in-between, liminal space 'twixt life and death, when we can cherish and honour both. It's also the time when our meals turn from light, crisp summer fare to warming, soothing nourishment.

Like soup. (After all, this blog's title features that glorious dish for a reason, right?)
Today's recipe uses the quintessential autumn vegetable: pumpkin.

The Perfect Autumn Meal

My stepfather died two years ago this week, and although he and I never saw eye to eye, he was a decent person in his own right. He was from Glasgow, wept every time he watched Braveheart (which was every few weeks), and loved mashed turnips more than I'll never be able to understand.

I was making a pot of this soup when I got the call that he'd died, so I've associated it with him ever since. He and I had many differences, but I tried to focus on positive memories as I stirred this soup, being present with its preparation.

When we cook with intention, staying in the moment, we appreciate all the subtle nuances our food has to offer us. We can pause in appreciation for all the soil nutrients the vegetables have absorbed over the summer months, revel in their hues, and be truly grateful for small luxuries... like coconut milk and really good curry powder.

Pumpkin Soup

"When times are terrible, soup is the answer. ” 

― Kate DiCamillo

When making this soup, you can either use fresh pumpkin, or canned pumpkin puree. If you go for the latter, try to go organic, if possible. Just make sure that you're using puree, and not pie filling, otherwise you'll end up with a really weird dessert soup.

I use canned puree for this recipe. If you're using fresh pumpkin, I'd recommend preparing it ahead of time by cooking and pureeing it yourself in a blender or food processor beforehand. It just saves time, and you'll be less likely to make a mess with an immersion blender.

Ingredients:

• 6 cups onion, chicken, or vegetable stock
• 4 cups pumpkin puree
• 1 cup finely chopped onion
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• 1/2 teaspoon minced thyme
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 flat tablespoon curry powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup coconut cream or heavy cream (like whipping cream)
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Hot red chili pepper flakes (optional)
• Garnish ideas: roasted pumpkin seeds, sunflower sprouts, parsley, toasted sesame seeds, chopped chives, chili oil (all optional)

Preparation:

Heat the olive oil on medium-high heat in a large soup pot. Once it's warmed, add the onions and cook for 5-7 minutes, stirring regularly. When they've started to go translucent, add the garlic, thyme, and cumin and stir for another couple of minutes. 

Then, add the stock, pumpkin puree, curry powder, and salt. Stir to combine thoroughly. Once it starts to bubble merrily, cover with a lid, reduce the heat to low, and allow to simmer for about 30 minutes. 

If you'd like this soup to be spicy, you can stir in some of those hot red pepper flakes. Otherwise, just omit them entirely. 

After it has simmered for that time, stir in the coconut or whipping cream. You may have to use a whisk to make sure it combines thoroughly.

Taste it, and adjust the liquid level if needed. I like this soup to be really thick and creamy, but if you like it thinner, add a bit more stock. Adjust the salt to your taste, and add a bit of cracked black pepper, if you like.

Ladle the soup into bowls, and serve hot. I like to garnish with a drizzle of chili oil and a few roasted pumpkin seeds, but you can serve it as it is. Other garnish options can be chopped green onions, sunflower sprouts, sesame seeds, parsley... anything you like, really.

I like to eat this with toast triangles, but warmed baguette slices are lovely too, as is freshly baked naan bread.

Make it Your Own

As with all the recipes I share here, I encourage you to experiment with this one and adjust it to suit your individual tastes. I've made this with squash instead of pumpkin, and used leftover curry paste instead of powder, etc.

Keep in mind that if you're going to use curry paste, go for the red or yellow varieties, rather than green. The green paste makes the soup a really "interesting" brown shade that's really quite unappetizing.

I'll be making this soup quite often over the next few months, and will undoubtedly think of my stepdad every time.

The funny thing is, I don't know whether he would have even liked this soup. He preferred bland fare, and balked at anything that might have been considered "exotic".
Who knows—maybe he'll develop an appreciation for spices and coconut milk in his next life.

Beannachd Dia dhuit, Andrew. I hope you're journeying well.

It's Chowder

“The lore has not died out of the world, and you will still find people who believe that soup will cure any hurt or illness and is no bad thing to have for the funeral either.” 

― John Steinbeck, East of Eden

Yes, it's another soup recipe, and you know why? Because soup is glorious and comforting and is a major theme of this blog—just check the URL. There will be many more soups in the future as well, I promise you, but this one holds a special place in my heart.

My apologies for the delayed post: I've been trying to publish at least one blog post a week, but I've been travelling and immersed in various bits of strangeness over the last couple of weeks and haven't been able to concentrate on my own writing. Mea culpa, dear readers.
The days are growing cooler, with nighttime temperatures that just barely skim above freezing. It's a nebulous time in which the days are still quite warm, but we can start to see our breath once the sun begins to set. I've set fires in the wood stoves almost nightly, and heaps of hand-knit, warm woollen socks have been pulled out of storage.

This soup has been a favourite of mine since earliest childhood, and I have made it on countless occasions when I have needed its comfort. 
I need its comfort this weekend. 
It's Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada, and although there is much to be thankful for, this is also a time of grief and loss for me: for what might have been, as well as for old wounds whose scabs have been torn open rather cruelly and needlessly. 

I've made several different versions of this chowder (chowdah, to my east coast friends!) to suit different people's dietary needs, but it's gorgeous in all of its many incarnations. I'm sharing the original (pescetarian + dairy) recipe that my family has been preparing for the past 40 or so years, with vegan and AIP-compliant variations listed afterwards.

This chowder is made in three parts and then combined.

Winter's Clam Chowder

Ingredients:

Part 1: Broth

• 4 cups water
• 2 cups firm white potatoes, peeled and diced
• 3/4 cup white onion, diced (or 1/2 cup onion, 1/4 cup thinly sliced leek whites)
• 3/4 cup carrots, peeled and diced

Bring the water to a rolling boil in a large soup pot, then add the potatoes, onions, and carrots. Bring the heat down to a simmer and cook until the vegetables are tender (usually 8-12 minutes).

Part 2: Sauce

• 4 tablespoons butter
• 4 tablespoons all-purpose flour (standard or gluten-free, your call)
• 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon mustard powder
• 2 cups milk (or 1 cup milk, 1 cup half-and-half cream if you'd like this soup to be really rich and creamy)
• 2 cups old cheddar cheese, grated

Begin part 2 once you've set the vegetables to simmer.  Melt the butter in a saucepan on medium heat, then whisk the flour in bit by bit to make a good, thick roux.
Slowly add the milk, whisking quickly the entire time.  Add pepper and mustard, then add the grated cheddar in small quantities, using a spoon to stir the mixture in order to blend it evenly.
Once it's completely mixed, pour this mixture into the vegetable broth. 

Part 3: Clams

• 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce (gluten-free/vegan as required)
• 3 cans (10 oz ea.) baby clams, including the juice
• 1 tablespoon fresh parsley, minced

Combine these three ingredients in a bowl, and then add to the soup pot. Use a large spoon to stir everything thoroughly, then allow to simmer for 5-10 minutes longer. 

You can serve it immediately (preferably accompanied by really good bread and a crisp white wine), but the soup is even better the next day once all the flavours have had a chance to combine.

Vegan version:

Swap out the clams for diced oyster mushrooms, and use coconut, soy, almond, or rice milk in lieu of dairy. You can add a bit of miso paste to get the briny umami note that the clam juice would have provided.
To thicken it, you could try using Daiya shreds, but I've never tried using them in this way. I have, however, made the soup thick and creamy by adding pureed white cannellini beans to it.

AIP version:

Use diced yucca, turnip, sweet potato, or rutabaga instead of white potatoes, OR eliminate that ingredient entirely and just pack the chowder full of other fish instead. I like to add chunks of white fish to mine, as well as crab meat and shrimp.
Coconut milk is ideal for adding creaminess as well as a tiny hint of sweetness. If you'd like this thickened, pureed steamed cauliflower works like a charm, though I've also used a roux made with a tiny bit of tapioca flour mixed with olive oil for that purpose.

I hope this soup comforts you and your loved ones beautifully.

A Broth to Soothe a Wounded Heart

Sorrow and mourning can take many forms, as death and loss can come in so many different guises. Sometimes it isn't the physical death of a loved one that we mourn, but the end of something we cherished. The loss of a job, or a friendship, or an intimate relationship, or even a lost pet. So many experiences tear holes into us, and we have to practice a fair bit of self care in order to heal those wounds so they don't grow and fester.

I've mentioned that one of the most nourishing foods I've come across yet is bone broth, as it isn't just a soothing internal hug, but also replenishes a body right down to the cellular level. It can be used as the base for a heavier soup, or just enjoyed on its own by the mugful; something that I try to do as often as possible, especially during the autumn and winter months. Quite often, a cup of this broth first thing in the morning does more to wake me and replenish my spirits than half a dozen cups of coffee ever could.

When making a healing bone broth, it's important to use bones from organically raised (preferably grass-fed) livestock, as you're aiming for the most nutrient-dense, healing food possible. Antibiotics and heavy metals are drawn into bones and marrow through the animal's bloodstream, so if you make a broth from conventionally raised animal bones, you'll be ingesting all those chemicals as well.

In addition to avoiding those chemicals, there's another vitally important reason for choosing bones from ethically raised animals, which was described so perfectly by my friend Cat Lane that when I asked, she granted me permission to quote her directly:

"There's another reason for this choice - because the bones of animals raised in hell and killed in anguish are not good medicine, not for our bodies and not for our souls. I make grief soups and teas as well, and for myself they don't contain animals at all, but plants raised with love and harvested with gratitude. That's not because I'm vegan - I'm not - but because no matter how hard I try, I can't not feel the animals' journey, when I am taking it's body into my own. And even 'happy cows' probably didn't want to die. That said, I make bone broth for dogs and all kinds of cat and dog foods with other animals, and the process of nurturing others soothes my own chronic spiritual pain. As long as it comes from animals that lived and died reasonably. We can't change the cycle of life, but we can engage in it with gentleness and wisdom and respect."

Bone Broth

• 3-4 pounds of beef, bison, elk, deer, or moose bones (an assortment of meaty and marrow bones is ideal)
• 1 medium-large onion, peeled and chopped coarsely
• 1 large carrot, peeled and diced
• 1 celery stalk, diced
• 1 small leek or 1 large bunch of green onions, washed and chopped 
• 2 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
• 2-3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
• 1 generous pinch of summer savoury, either dried or fresh
• 1 teaspoon fresh parsley, chopped
• Good salt (I use pink Himalayan salt, but sea salt works as well)

Preparation:

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
Arrange the bones in a baking dish, and roast for 30-45 minutes, or until the marrow softens and begins to melt.

Place the bones in a large soup pot (or crock pot, if you have one). Cover with water until they're submerged by a couple of inches, add the vinegar (which will help to draw the nutrients out of the bones) bring to a boil, and then reduce to a low simmer.

After about 4 hours, add the rest of the ingredients, and add more water until everything is just covered. Let this cook for at least another 8 hours, though I'd recommend letting it simmer for another 12. Basically, the longer you let this simmer, the more nutritious the broth will be, and the more flavour will be developed therein. 

To strain your stock, use a large, slotted spoon to remove the bones and the larger vegetables, then strain the liquid into a large bowl. Add salt to taste, but try not to make it too salty: you're aiming for nourishment more than just flavour content.
The broth can be transferred to glass Mason jars or even a large pitcher, and transferred to the refrigerator once it's cooled to room temperature. Once cooled, a layer of fat will have accumulated and hardened on the broth's surface: you can scrape this off and keep it in the freezer to combine with seeds later to feed wild birds.

Don't freak out if/when your broth turns gelatinous: this is a good thing, as it means that collagen has been drawn out of the bones. That collagen is immensely healing for everything from sore throats and stomach ulcers to leaky gut, arthritis, and other types of joint inflammation. As soon as you heat the broth, the gel will dissolve back into liquid so you can sip it to your heart's content.

I've found that the best way to enjoy this broth is to do so mindfully: to sit quietly and focus entirely on each sip, appreciating the nutrients that are being drawn into my body without any distractions like TV or music or anyone else around me. Doing so brings a sacredness to this ritual, and that, as well as the broth itself, is immensely healing.

Chicken Soup for... Just About Everything

“Yes", said Cook. "That is soup that you are smelling. Times are terrible, and when times are terrible, soup is the answer."

- Kate DiCamillo (The Tale of Despereaux)  

Have you ever read any of those Chicken Soup for the Soul books? Basically, they're collections of short stories intended to lighten the reader's spirits and make them feel good. Some are funny, some are very heartfelt tear jerkers, but they inevitably leave the reader feeling better all around.

Chicken soup seems to have the same effect when eaten, which is undoubtedly A- what likely inspired these books' titles, and B- why just about every culture on the planet has some variation on this healing meal.

Many scientific studies have been done to sort out whether chicken soup really can treat a cold effectively (the answer is yes, apparently...), but ultimately, this dish's real power is in its soothing warmth and nutrition: every sip seems to soothe us right to the marrow.

When people are feeling broken and lost, soups such as these are like comforting hugs on the inside, giving strength as well as nourishment. Packed with vegetables—and hopefully plenty of garlic—it's an ideal soup for rebuilding strength when someone is run down.

As mentioned in my note about food substitutions, I make a meatless version of this soup for my husband using faux chicken made of tofu marinated in poultry seasoning, but if I'm just making a batch for myself, or for omnivorous folks, I use bones in the stock and shredded chicken breast and thigh in the finished soup. The vegan version of this soup is at the end of this post.

For the Stock (Standard Version):

Ingredients:

• Bones, skin, and leftover bits from 2 chickens* (you can add in some of the meat as well, if you like)
• 2 medium-large onions, coarsely chopped
• 2-3 leek ends (green parts), sliced
• 2 carrots, peeled and coarselly chopped
• 2 stalks celery + their leaves, coarsely chopped
• 5 or 6 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
• 2 teaspoons dried summer savory, or 1 teaspoon fresh
• 1/3 cup parsley, coarsely chopped
• a pinch of thyme
• olive oil
• white wine, sherry, or cognac
• salt
• water
• 1 or 2 onion skins (optional)

Instructions

Heat a tablespoon or so of olive oil in a large, heavy stock pot, then toss in the bones and skin. Heat these on medium heat until everything goes gold and brown, and bits start to caramelise on the bottom of the pot. Deglaze those browned bits with an enthusiastic splash of wine, sherry, or cognac, using a wooden spoon or spatula to scrape merrily until they loosen. Add about 2 cups of water and keep scraping and stirring for a minute or so longer.

Add in the onion, leeks, carrots, celery, garlic, and herbs, and then add just enough water to cover everything by about 1 inch. The key to a spectacular stock is to really condense the flavour, so you don't want to add too much water or you'll dilute it. The onion skins will give the stock a lovely dark golden colour, but adding them is totally optional.

Bring this to a boil, then reduce the heat to low and let it simmer very, very gently for 2-3 hours. Remove from heat, allow it to cool a little bit, and then strain everything out. I start by using a slotted spoon to scoop out all the large bits, and then I pour the stock from one pot to another through a colander lined with clean cheesecloth. If you use this technique, squeeze the cheesecloth thoroughly so you get as much broth out as possible.

For the Soup:

• The finished stock, strained thoroughly
• 1 large onion, diced
• 1 medium sweet potato, peeled and diced
• 1 large carrot, peeled and diced
• 2 stalks celery, tough threads removed, and diced
• 3+ cloves garlic, minced or pressed
• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped
• 2 handfuls fresh spinach, shredded
• 1 generous cup of cooked chicken breast and/or thigh meat, diced or shredded
• Salt
• Optional: cooked pasta (egg noodles, acini di pepe, etc.), or spiralised vegetable noodles—as many as you like. 1 cup usually suffices for my tastes, but you might like your soup packed with more noodles. It's also lovely with cooked wild rice.

Instructions:

Heat the strained stock until it begins to bubble a bit, then add in the onion, sweet potato, carrot, celery, garlic and parsley. Bring up to a boil, then turn down the heat to low and let it simmer for about 25 minutes, or until the sweet potato and carrot are fork-tender.

Add in the chicken and spinach, and taste the soup to see if you need to add more salt. 
Allow this to simmer for another few minutes just to let the flavours combine well, then remove from heat.
If you'd like a creamy version of this soup (which I do, SO much), this is the point at which you'd add a bit of dairy milk/cream, pureed cannelini beans, pureed cauliflower, coconut milk, or unsweetened soy milk until it reaches your preferred level of creaminess. You may have to adjust salt levels accordingly.

If you're serving this immediately and you'd like to add pasta, I find that it's best to place the noodles in the bottom of each bowl and then ladle the hot soup over them. If you're going to take this soup to someone as a food gift, pack the pasta or rice in a separate container rather than adding them to the soup so they don't bloat and soak up all that glorious stock. Same goes for spiralised veggie noodles: they'll get soggy and fall apart in the soup, and we really wouldn't like that to happen.

My usual caveat stands: I don't really measure when I cook, so consider this a rough guideline, and please adjust it to suit your own tastes! (I've made an Asian-inspired version of this soup by adding sesame oil and tamari, swapping out the spinach for watercress, and using soba noodles, and my Spanish DNA occasionally cries out for a sopa de lima version with fresh lime and cilantro, so be creative and make it your own.)

Vegan Onion Stock Version:

To make the caramelised onion stock for the vegan version of this soup, slice 4 Spanish onions very thinly and toss them into a large, heavy stock pot along with a hearty glug of olive oil. You'll cook them on medium-low heat for 60-90 minutes, stirring only occasionally, until they're a deep, gorgeous brown.

Be careful not to let them burn! If you find that they're darkening too quickly, turn the heat down even lower. When you think they're ready, deglaze the bottom of the pot with wine or cognac, then follow the directions with the vegetables and other ingredients as listed in the standard version of the stock & soup above.

For the faux chicken, take half a brick of semi-firm tofu and shred it into strips with a pair of forks. Place these strips in a bowl and toss with about a teaspoon of poultry seasoning, a bit of minced garlic, and just enough vegetable stock to cover them. Let this marinate for 2-3 hours, then strain, and fry briefly in a bit of Earth Balance or olive oil until just browned. You'll add this to the prepared soup just before serving it.


* I keep bones and such in the freezer until I've accumulated enough to make a batch of stock, as it's a great way to use every part with respect.
Don't be alarmed if the stock you make with bones and skin turns gelatinous in the fridge: the natural collagen within is what makes this happen, and it'll liquefy again as soon as it's heated up.