The August vegetable explosion is on! Tomatoes are ripe and richly flavored, squash is thin-skinned and tender. All are available in peak abundance at local farmer’s markets. This “soup” of vegetables simply stewed in their own juices cooks, as if by magic, with a simple layering of the ingredients in a pot. I culled this one from my mom’s recipe box – one I remember thinking was completely crazy – cooking lettuce – that’s salad! A crunchy head of Romaine is a key component as ninety five percent of the lettuce’s own bulk weight is water which supplements much of the broth. A dish that won’t whack you over the head with aggressive flavors, but will enchant you spoonful by spoonful with a colorful tangle of vegetables and a co-mingling of naturally sweet juices enhanced by a grace of salt.

Layered Vegetable Soup
(ever so very slightly) Adapted from Nika Hazelton’s Garden Vegetable Soup
Serves: 6

Ingredients:

2 cups sliced ripe tomatoes  - enough to cover the bottom of a 5-6 quart pot

2 cups onions thinly sliced

4 plump cloves garlic thinly sliced

2 cups small zucchini or yellow squash sliced 1/4″ thick

1 cup Romaine lettuce finely shredded

10 oz. package frozen peas (or two lbs. fresh shelled)

1 cup Italian parsley, chopped

1/4 cup torn fresh basil leaves

10 oz. package frozen lima beans (or 2 lbs. fresh, shelled)

1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil (plus extra for finishing)

Salt to taste

Black pepper to taste

Chunk parmesan for grating (optional)

Spread tomatoes over the bottom of a 5-6 quart pot. Sprinkle lightly with salt. Top the tomatoes with the onions, then garlic and sprinkle lightly with salt. Add the zucchini and lightly salt. Top the zucchini with the lettuce followed by the peas. Sprinkle half of the parsley and all of the basil over the peas and sprinkle lightly with salt. Add the lima beans and the remaining 1/2 cup of parsley, lightly salt and drizzle the olive oil over the top. Cook, covered, over medium-low heat for twenty minutes, or until the vegetables start releasing their liquid (take care to moderate the heat level so the tomatoes do not scorch). Do not remove the cover at all for the first ten minutes.

Remove the cover and mix the vegetables well. Taste a slice of squash and determine if it is done enough for your liking. At peak season, the skin is tender and the squash cooks through quickly – same with the tomatoes. If the soup is done to your liking then you can stop here. If not, continue to cook, covered and low for another ten minutes or so until the vegetables are done enough for your taste.

Correct salt seasoning and grind in some fresh black pepper.

Serve hot, warm or at room temperature (my preference is for the two latter) with a drizzle of olive oil and a grating of parmesan.

This dish is best served on the first day, but subsequent second and third day rewarmings are tasty enough, too.

If I were permitted only one word to describe Washington Post Food Editor Joe Yonan’s first book, Serve Yourself: Nightly Adventures in Cooking for One, what instantly comes to mind is “juicy”. Juicy, as a book which is chock aburst with vivid mouthwatering explosions of freshness and crunch. Juicy, as a book filled with vibrant recipes that are creative and intelligent, with consideration given to both the flavor and textures captured within every mouthful. Juicy, as I need a drool bib tied in place as I flip through the contents of recipes, soak in the words of Joe’s fine and friendly prose, and gaze upon the beckoning food photography.

Stock-thinned sweet potato soup base with a swirl of creme fraiche

Although cooking is a huge part of what I do for a living, I occasionally slide into slouchy neglect when preparing just for myself. Serve Yourself is the reveille call to wake up and treat just yourself well and kindly in the kitchen, as you would for company. I welcomed employing the smart strategies Joe offers in the book and have adopted many of them now as my own.

I was honored and delighted to be a part of the recipe testing of Serve Yourself, coming in towards the end to help Joe tweak and master a few last niggling recipes, (his spicy-sweet cabbage and pear kimchi has become a household constant),  and several of those recipes were devised in making soup for many into soup for one.

I love making large pots of soup (is there any other way?), and ultimately freeze much uneaten soup for a later thawing and reheating. Whole-pieced ingredients in the soup base don’t always emerge from the thaw tasting as bright as they did initially, and Joe provides such a smart idea for preparing  master concentrated and pureed soup bases to be frozen in individual portion sizes, later to be thinned and customized to personal preference as needed to become  a full meal in a bowl

Black bean soup base

The  base of the savory sweet potato soup (owing it’s deep flavor to first roasting of the potatoes), appears with a recipe which first thins the base with water or stock, then tops with a quick saute of chorizo, chickpeas and kale – a craveable combination (recipe HERE).  Another soup with the same  sweet potato base is thinned with both fresh orange juice, water or stock and topped with chipotle-kissed toasted pecans and cooling creme fraiche – see how clever soup making for one becomes?

Stock-thinned black bean soup base with swirl of creme fraiche

A spicy black bean soup base becomes Black Bean Tortilla Soup with Shrimp and Corn, playing up the corn by thinning the soup with corn broth. No corn broth? Use water, chicken or vegetable stock and have  soup that’s been personalized by you, and just as delicious.

Black Bean Soup with Seared Scallops and Green Salsa

Thinned with water or stock, the silken and spicy black bean soup becomes an exciting meal with the tangy  piquant flavors of  a chunky green salsa paired with the sweet succulence of seared sea scallops.

Pick up a copy of Serve Yourself and grab a couple of napkins. You’ll want something handy to dab up all of the juices rolling down your chin as you tuck into the books luscious pages.

The Serve Yourself project magically appeared while I was caring for my father during his last weeks of life. I was grateful to be busy with my hands and head in the kitchen,and  thankful to  have  nutritious and delicious recipes to test and share with my father and friends.

The last meal I was able to feed my father was the Fall Vegetable Soup with White Beans, an extension of the recipe for Stewed Cauliflower, Butternut Squash and Tomatoes, along with perfect deeply sweet ruby strawberries from  a local farm. Dad wasn’t verbally communicating, but he squeezed my hand tightly, a tear fell from his eye, and a smile emerged from his cracked lips.

This post is dedicated to the memory of my father, Dr. Robert L. Tannenbaum. RIP, daddy.

Spicy sambar ingredients: toor dal and chiles.

Come warm your winter bones with a spicy sambar recipe at Ohio Authority, Ohio’s premier online magazine. New SPICE TRADE here.

Last Fall I found myself completely won over by the succulent charms and satisfaction of home-braised pork belly. That was the season I worked on testing recipes for the chapter, Fresh Bacon: The Glories of Braised Pork Belly, in Michael Symon’s Live to Cook: Recipes and Techniques to Rock Your Kitchen. Yes – an entire chapter devoted solely to that cut so richly streaked both of silken-fat and lusciously savory meat – would you expect anything less from Cleveland’s King of Pork? The recipes using the belly are fantastic (hear this: fresh bacon with watermelon and haloumi makes a mind-blowing breakfast or brunch item), however, after braising, left over was some of the the richest, most flavorful broth I’ve ever tasted without designation in the book. Thinking, “Ramen – this broth would make the most exquisite base for a bowl of ramen”, one year later, in true Pavlovian form, I’ve returned to the Fall, the pork and its heavenly liquor – determined to create a bowl of noodles fit to please an Iron Chef.

With gorgeous local belly (thanks for the new source, Live to Cooks co-author and other Michael, Ruhlman), and Cleveland clambake season in mind, I went to work constructing my bowl using Symon’s technique for braising but altering the flavorings to give it a decidedly Asian bent. The components: Strained belly braising liquid, fresh noodles from the Asian market, pan-crisped and browned belly, some steamed-just-to-popping plump middleneck clams, half a 5 minute local egg, roasted both local corn and crisp dice of sweet potato to add an element of sweetness, and a pluck of flash-sauteed pea shoots (for me! for me! – must have green veggies!). Shaved scallion and cayenne chile wait ready at the sidelines to mix in to taste for piquancy and heat.

The below belly recipe is of my own seasonings; Symon’s version is in the book which will be released this November 3rd. The recipes from the book did totally rock my kitchen, and maybe even my world. Michael, I know how much you enjoy a big bowl of brothy Asian-style noodles, so this one’s for you:

Braised Pork Belly

Yields approximately 1 1/2 pounds belly and 1 quart braising liquid

2 lbs.  fresh pork belly, skin removed, fat left in place

2 tablespoons kosher salt

2 teaspoons palm sugar

1 teaspoon toasted and ground coriander seeds

1 teaspoon five spice powder

1 teaspoon cinnamon

tablespoon crushed red pepper flakes

Grated zest from 1 orange

2 large shallots, sliced

1 carrot, sliced

5 large coins of peeled ginger

4 whole garlic cloves

1 whole star anise

1 stick cinnamon

1 cup dry Chinese rice wine

1 quart homemade chicken stock

Rinse the pork belly and pat dry.

In a small bowl, mix together the salt, sugar, coriander, five spice, cinnamon, red pepper flakes and orange zest. Coat the pork belly with the mixture and place in a large plastic bag or wrap well in plastic wrap. Refrigerate overnight or up to 24 hours.

Preheat the oven to 275.

Remove the belly from the refrigerator, rinse off seasonings and pat dry.

In a large pot, combine the shallot, carrot, garlic, ginger, star anise, cinnamon stick, rice wine and chicken stock and bring to  a simmer.

Put the belly in a Dutch oven and pour liquid over it. Place belly in oven and braise until very tender, 3-7 hours.

Remove from the oven and let cool 20 minutes. remove belly, wrap. Strain braising liquid into a container. Both belly and liquid may be kept refrigerated up to one week. To use belly, slice and pan-crisp andbrown as needed – I like to do it slowly in cast iron.

Although my meat post brought all the boys to the yard, this week I’m taking a break from the carnage. Testing and tasting 250 recipes destined for the grill in not much more than a weeks time  can wreak havoc on your palate, not to mention your belly. Rubs and marinades contain a lot of salt, spice and big flavor, so by the time I was back on home turf all I was looking for in the way of taste was subtlety.

Thoughts turned to a dish I had tried in a food court while spending a day in the pretty old harbor town of Melaka, Malaysia this past February. A friend had ordered a bowl of rice which appeared with an assortment of toppings – circlets of steamed green beans, little red beans, chopped steamed dark green leafy vegetable, salted peanuts, scallion and beansprouts, and served with a bowl of fragrant, brightly colored green tea to pour over and eat – at least I think that’s what we were supposed to do with it. The dish was delicate restraint – a little shake of  salt and some shreds of ginger was all it took to convince me this bowl of nourishing beauty would become a steady-regular in my kitchens repertoire.

I am currently experiencing a love affair with the medium grain brown rice from Massa Organics - sweet, grassy, chewy and nutty – these family farm-grown grains work perfectly in this composition. Merely a suggestion and less a recipe, I use whatever I have on hand. Todays bowl of warm rice contains slices of steamed spring asparagus, shredded thin-cooked omelet, scallions, Melaka-red adzuki beans, toasted nori, salty umeboshi plum and crunchy tamari almonds. Over this streamed a freshly brewed cup of Jade Cloud green tea, followed by a light trickle of nama shoyu to lift the flavors. Consider fresh or pickled ginger, a dash of wasabi, toasted sesame seeds, a favored miso, or some lean cooked protein as other additions or substitutions. This isn’t a dish that jumps out and assaults the taste buds, but rather coaxes them slowly in to submission, urging them to pay attention to gentler nuances of taste and texture, and brings them back home.

I have since learned the dish has a name - OCHAZUKE .

A fantastic new book by now, self-admittedly, food writer Michael Ruhlman has hit the bookshelves. Titled, Ratio: The Simple Codes Behind The Craft Of Everyday Cooking, the book provides an in depth exploration of food ratios destined to liberate those of us who are chronically recipe-bound. I used the meat/fat to salt ratio while we worked on the charcuterie portion of Symon’s Live To Cook – it worked like a dream nailing the proportions and flavor with precision. Thank you, Michael!

A version of this hearty soup (I’ve made very minor modifications to accomodate changes in product and my taste) appears in an article written by that grand signora of Italian cooking, Marcella Hazan entitled simply, Seven Italian Soups, and I’ve prepared them all with gratifying, soul-warming results. But this one is the soup I return to again and again as it was the first recipe that turned me on to the magical, meaty, earthen wiles of porcini. In the words of Marcella , “No lover of soups can remain indifferent to chickpeas and spinach combined with the seductive aroma and flavor of dried boletus mushrooms”. I can attest to those words, thirty one years later. The ingredients are easy to keep on hand; please give this one a try; a most beautiful soup.

Zuppa di Ceci, Spinaci e Porcini (Chick Pea, Spinach and Porcini Soup)
Serves 4
Adapted from Marcella Hazan via Heidi Robb

1 ounce dried porcini mushrooms
3 cups lukewarm water
1 16 ounce can chick peas, drained and rinsed
1 10 ounce package frozen whole-leaf spinach, thawed and squeezed dry
Salt
2 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons finely chopped yellow onion
1 plump clove of garlic miced
1 15 ounce can diced tomatoes in juices ( I like Muir Glen)
Freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons freshly grated parmesan

Soak the porcini in the lukewarm water for at least 30 minutes. Lift the mushrooms out of the water without stirring and rinse well in cold water. Rough-chop them and set aside.

Strain the soaking water through a paper towel set into a strainer; set aside.

*Skin the chickpeas. Squeeze the chickpeas one at a time between your thumb and first finger; I find holding the chickpea by the rounder base and squeezing the skin up towards the pointed sprout end works best for me. Discard the skins.

Rough-chop the spinach and set aside.

Put the butter, olive oil, onion, garlic along with a pinch of salt into your soup pot. Turn the heat to medium. When the onion has turned a light golden color, add the mushrooms. Cook, stirring for a minute. Add the tomatoes and their juices, cooking, stirring for another minute. Add the spinach, another pinch of salt and a pinch of pepper, and stir, cooking for another couple of minutes. Add the chickpeas, stir and cook a few minutes until everything is combined and warmed throughout. Add the mushroom water; taste and add a little more salt if needed; not too much as you can always add more later.

Turn the heat down to very low, cover the pot, and cook for one hour. The soup will be very thick and dense; you can add a little more warm water if desired.

Off the heat, mix in the grated cheese and allow to sit a few moments before serving.

* Please don’t roll your eyes at me – just do it! The skinning contributes to a nicer look and mouthfeel to the finished dish. It only takes a few minutes and is a nice way to keep your mind on a new kitchen task and off of facebook!

Mmmm…soup’s on. While in Seattle a few months back I slurped up a deliciously warming bowl of parmesan brodo with controne beans at How To Cook A Wolf. With that memory of a meal in mind, I put together this soup: a base of a richly golden chicken and turkey stock simmered with a chunk of rind from some parmigiano reggiano (which is why the broth is not absolutely crystalline – a little parm residue). I added my cooked controne beans, tiny rounds of blanched sweet carrot, a few torn leaves of slightly bitter escarole and some parsley. Finished off with a drizzle of good olive oil, this bowlful of nourishing elixir is a humble, tasty nod towards the approaching of fall.

…and the corks keep flying as the bubbles keep pouring over at Chef’s Widow blog. I think Liz is is looking very ‘Xena Warrior Princess’ whilst brandishing that knife.

A Taste of Yellow is an official LiveSTRONG Day event.

I’m certain that the manner in which my father carved and peeled a mango was not a far stretch from the way he performed as a surgeon in the O.R. Deliberate precision delivered with the utmost tender care and respect for the patient, um, I mean the fruit. As I stood there hungry for mango, the task seemed interminable. Worth the wait? Absolutely. When my father took on mango detail the result was absolute perfection. No mess, no waste, just lusciously juicy, yet miraculously tidy golden fillets laid out for grabs on one of our stoneware plates.

Spring has brought a bumper crop of Mexican Ataulfo, or Champagne mangoes to my local markets. One of my favorite of mango varieties, the Ataulfo can go ripe and beyond without developing any fiber, which means what you are left with under the skin is purely tender flesh, with just a thin slip of a pit. Honey-sweet and a little bit spicy, I’ve been making short work of these sassy little numbers for the last couple of weeks.

This recipe is a riff on an amuse I created to serve at a dinner party we catered last weekend. Since it was presented as a little sipping shooter, the coconut noodles were not included. But served as a properly spooned soup course, I want this to have some texture and use of the soft, pliable flesh of young Thai coconut is perfect.

Cashew cream lends richness without the heaviness of dairy, and harmonizes with all of the tropical elements beautifully. If you don’t feel like tinkering with the young coconut, feel free to use filtered water in lieu of the coconut water, and a spoonful of tapioca pearls could make an appealing stand-in for the noodles.

Chilled Mango Soup with Lime Cashew Cream and Coconut Noodles
Yield: Four pre-entree servings
Bracing, racy, lush but not heavy, this soup is a perfect palate-readying opening course.

Soup ingredients:
Flesh from two ripe Ataulfo/Champagne mangoes
1 cup water from young Thai coconut (I’ve never opened one that didn’t have at least one cup of liquid inside)
1 tsp. minced lemongrass, from tender inner leaves
1 tsp. peeled, minced fresh ginger
1 tbs. fresh lime juice
1 tbs. agave nectar
Seeds scraped from half of a vanilla bean
Pinch ancho chile powder or cayenne
Pinch sea salt

Combine all ingredients in a high-speed or other blender container. Blend until smooth. Chill.

Coconut Noodles:
Flesh removed from one young Thai coconut, cut into julienne strips.

Lime cashew cream:
1 cup raw cashews
1/2 cup water, plus more if necessary
Zest of one lime
1-2 tsp. fresh lime juice
Little pinch of sea salt

Place all ingredients in a high-speed or other blender. Blend until smooth and creamy, adding more water to thin if necessary.

To Serve:
Place a portion of the coconut noodles in the bottom of each bowl. Top off with chilled mango soup. Swirl or dollop with the cashew cream.

Note: I can imagine that a spoonful of the soup base placed in a glass flute topped off with a crisp, dry champagne or another sparkler would make a *WOW* unbelievable take on the Bellini cocktail. Champagne mangoes and champagne, anyone?