Fava Bean Soup with Chile and Mint

Last week, NDP caught a bug of sorts. The front end of the site looked just fine, but when I tried to get behind the curtain and share my latest cooking projects with you all, I got a scary blank screen and an "access denied" message. Over the last several days, I've discovered that messages like "access denied" fall into a scary purgatory of blog management: neither the host's problem nor Wordpress's problem. I was on my own.

Over the past 5 years of blogging, I've stared down more than one scary white screen. In fact, having to learn (just) enough HTML, CSS, PHP, & SSH to fix my own blog issues has been among the most challenging and rewarding aspects of writing Not Derby Pie. (And that's not to mention the actual cooking and blogging, which no doubt have been the ultimate reward.) The malfunctions have had me in fits, and yes, there have been tears; but by the time last week's scary moments had passed, I had a shiny new back-up, a working blog dashboard, and a fair amount of new knowledge about how the blog actually works. I'd say I got even more than I bargained for. I'm pretty sure I've nipped this thing in the bud, but in case we have a recurrence of scary white-screen - be patient. I'll try to have things back up and running asap.

And of course, those of you who follow me on Twitter already know that this weekend wasn't all spent in front of a computer screen. D, who pretty much laps the crowd for wife of the year, whisked me away on a semi-surprise trip to New York for my 29th birthday. The trip was delicious from start to finish; but I'll have to tell you about it another time. Because today, we're talking about soup.

Now then: shall we?

Fava bean soup with chile and mint: an original recipe from Rick Bayless, tweaked by the lovely Heidi in her own quiet, smart way. I've made Heidi's soup twice now, and it is superb. The first time I couldn't get hulled favas, and thus found myself peeling the waxy brown shells off 2 lbs. of cooked beans. No matter: the result was worth it. Creamy and smooth, piquant with chilies but not painful-spicy, and faintly rich from the sprinkling of feta. If there's a cross between earthiness and luxury, it is this soup.

Here's one of the many great things about it: you really, really don't need to use chicken stock. Vegetable broth and/or water are more delicate, and they let the flavors of the favas and chilies really come through. This soup has the heft and depth of good hummus, which, in many parts of the Middle East, is served with a generous helping of ful, or fava bean puree. But those chilies - they take the dish in a totally different direction, in the best way.

And yet, I had to fuss with the proportions just a bit; I can't help myself. After making it Heidi's way the first time, I swapped half her guajillos out of the pasilla chiles Bayless called for in his original recipe. Heidi left her chile drizzle pretty chunky, so her bowl has whole bits of chile and much thinner bits of sauce. I did that the first time, but I didn't love the texture of the guajillo pieces, so the second time, I added a bit of extra water and pureed the chile mixture. That worked better for me. I also needed a little extra salt to offset the vinegar; start with Heidi's 1/2 teaspoon in the chile mixture, and add more if you desire.

Enjoy, and thanks for bearing with me as I get NDP back up and running. Y'all are the best.

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Fava Bean Soup with Chile and Mintadapted from Heidi Swanson of 101 Cookbooks

1 pound hulled dry fava beans, rinsed

8 cups good vegetable broth or water 6 garlic cloves, left unpeeled 1 large white or yellow onion, sliced into 1/2-inch thick rings 1 1/2 pounds ripe tomatoes

6 medium dried guajillo or pasilla chiles, stemmed & seeded

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil 2 tablespoons cider vinegar 3/4 teaspoon dried Mexican oregano 1 1/2 teaspoon sea salt, plus more to taste 1/2 cup loosely packed chopped cilantro 2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint, pref. spearmint 1/2 cup crumbled feta (Heidi calls for Mexican queso anejo, but none of the Mexican grocers by me had it, and you know what? Feta is pretty delicious)

Rinse the favas a few times to ensure they're completely clean. Put favas in a large soup pot and cover with the broth or water. Simmer over medium-low heat, partially covered, until very tender and starting to fall apart, about 75 minutes.

Meanwhile, preheat your oven's broiler.

While the beans are simmering, roast the unpeeled garlic in a cast iron skillet for about 10 minutes, until cloves have black spots in some places and are very soft. Remove from the pan. When cool enough to handle, remove the skins and finely chop.

By now, the broiler should be ready. Slice your tomatoes and onions, put them in a single layer on two lined baking sheets, and stick them under the broiler for about 12 minutes, flipping slices over halfway through. Depending on the size of your broiler, you may need to do this step in batches. When you're done, onions and tomatoes should be soft and deeply browned in spots. Once cool enough to handle, chop coarsely, then transfer along with the garlic straight into the pot with the favas, being sure to catch the tomato juices as well. Simmer until the beans are have mostly disintegrated, 15-30 minutes.

While the soup is simmering, cut the chiles into strips using scissors or a sharp knife. Heat the oil in a small saucepan over medium heat. Add the chiles and stir for a minute, then remove from the heat. Add the vinegar, 5-6 tablespoons of water, oregano, and 1/2 teaspoon of the salt (or more, to taste). Set aside and let stand for at least 1/2 hour, stirring occasionally. If desired, use a blender or immersion blender to smooth the chile mixture into a uniform sauce. Taste and adjust for salt and acidity accordingly.

If soup is very thick, add a few glugs of water to thin it. Let the soup come back up to a simmer, then remove from the heat and add the mint, cilantro, and another teaspoon of salt. Taste, and add more salt if needed, but keep in mind the cheese is salty as well. Serve bowls of soup with a dollop of the chile mixture and a bit of cheese.

Adobo Black Bean Soup

Counter to what you may believe about this quasi-southern city, DC has some bitter winter weather up its sleeve. This is shaping up to be the first really cold week here in Washington, and like clockwork, I've got swollen glands, a stuffy nose, and a feeling I still haven't seen the worst of this bug. Thankfully, I also have my slow cooker on the counter, a big jar of black beans, my trusty slow-cooker, and a hankering for something thick, hot, and comforting. Black bean soup is on the menu.

Apparently, I'm on a southwestern kick. Last week, we made Texas chili so good, I went to twitter asking why none of you had told me about it earlier. This week, we're recovering from the beef-fest with a fully vegetarian black bean soup that's no less flavorful, enlisting chipotle chilies, adobo sauce, cocoa, and molasses. It's easy to make - very easy - and quite delicious.

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Ok, but let's be honest. What really puts this soup over the top is the chipotles in adobo sauce, which in my case was homemade by my friend Cathy, aka Mrs. Wheelbarrow. She smoked her own chipotles; she made her own adobo sauce; and to a very lucky few, she bequeathed a jar of the results. I tell you, the stuff is delicious. Fancy homemade version aside, the canned ones are delicious, too. They're what make this soup sing.

Soups in the slow-cooker: the epitome of simple. But I'll admit it here - our slow-cooker lives in a cabinet, woefully underutilized. I put it to work on this soup after hearing that my friends Phoebe and Cara, over at Big Girls, Small Kitchen, were hosting Slow-Cooker Week on their blog. Click over, and you'll see that they've got recipes for everything from slow-cooked beef stew to all-day hummus made in the slow-cooker. Check it out.

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Inspired to dust off my own slow-cooker, I knew immediately that I'd be making black bean soup. Because you're cooking the beans for several hours, you don't need to soak them first. You just put up the soup in the morning, and by the time you get home from work, your beans and vegetables have transformed into something silky, soft, and flavorful: the total package.

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Still, I should note that you definitely can make this soup equally well on the stove. You'll need to soak the beans first, so that they cook all the way through, but other than that, it's straightforward. I've included instructions below.

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Several folks have emailed over the past couple of weeks about needing more work-friendly recipes. Ask, and you shall receive: this soup practically makes itself. We've been eating the leftovers all week, no extra cooking needed.

Did I mention there's something in it for you? Cara and Phoebe and Kelsey the Naptime Chef, masterminds of the Slow-Cooker Challenge, teamed up with a few great folks at OXO, DeLonghi, and Breville to snag some great prizes for folks who follow along with the slow-cooker festivities. You can win fancy, high-end slow-cookers (much nicer than mine!) here and here. Follow along on both of their sites for slow-cooker recipes galore, OXO prizes, and more.

Adobo Black Bean Soupadapted heavily from Whole Foods Market serves 6-8

3 tablespoons olive oil 1 large red onion, diced (about 3 cups) 1 green bell pepper, chopped 1 red bell pepper, chopped, divided 3 cloves garlic, sliced 3 tablespoons fresh oregano (or 1 tablespoon dried oregano) 1 1/2 tablespoons ground cumin 2 chipotles in adobo, chopped 1/4 cup adobo sauce (may need two cans to yield this much sauce) 1 bay leaf 2 cups black beans 12ish cups water 1 1/2 tablespoons cocoa 1 tablespoon molasses 3/4 cup orange juice 1 teaspoon salt (to taste) 1/2 cup cilantro 4 scallions, thinly sliced 2 avocados, halved and thinly sliced 1/4 cup yogurt or sour cream

To make the soup in the slow-cooker the easiest way:

Put everything through the water in the slow-cooker, turn it on, and leave it alone. When you get home, stir the cocoa with a spoonful of soup until smooth, then add it, the OJ, and salt - to taste - into the soup. By the time you've got the troops around the table, soup will be ready. Serve with scallion, avocado, yogurt, and tortilla chips. Speedy, eh?

The hybrid method: maximum flavor, but makes itself while you work:

Here's how I made the soup.

Plug in the slow-cooker and turn it to high. While it heats, saute the onion, green pepper, and half the red pepper in olive oil in a small saucepan until translucent. Add the spices, garlic, chipotle, and adobo sauce, stir to combine them with the aromatics, and cook a couple minutes more. Pour 2 cups of water into the saucepan, scrape up the bits from the bottom of the pan, and pour the whole mixture into the slow cooker. Add the beans, the bay leaf, and enough water to cover the beans by a few inches (should be about 10 more cups). By now, the slow-cooker should be plenty hot. (Doesn't matter if it isn't, though.) Turn slow-cooker to low, and let cook at least 5 hours and as many as 8 hours (yes, I tested it to make sure). You're not adding salt at this point: when cooking beans, always add salt at the end. The beans will stay whole, and you'll be able to control the saltiness of the soup better that way.

When you get home - or, about 10 minutes before serving the soup - put the cocoa in a small bowl, and add a couple spoonfuls of the soup broth. Stir together until smooth, then add to the soup along with the orange juice and cilantro. Next, you'll salt the soup. Start with half a teaspoon. Stir it in - thoroughly - and then taste the broth. (Not the beans: they won't have taken on the salt yet.) If the broth needs more salt, add another half teaspoon.

Serve soup with sliced scallions, sliced avocado, yogurt, and tortilla chips.

To make soup on the stove:

First, soak the beans for 6-8 hours. Sorry, you gotta.

Now: same instructions as above, but instead of sauteing the onions in a small saucepan, do it in a soup pot. When you're ready, add all the remaining ingredients straight into that pot. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 1.5 hours, until beans are soft. Add cocoa, orange juice, and cilantro 5-10 minutes before serving.

Michael Symon's Tomato Soup

Can soup be controversial? I think maybe it can.

I've served this soup at probably ten dinner parties over the past couple years. D sets the first bowl down on the table and announces, "tomato soup." Guests slurp their first spoonfuls, and the crows start coming. "This is amazing." "Best tomato soup ever." "I need the recipe." Music to any cook's ears; it's no winder I keep making this soup.

It wasn't always this way, though. I blame the blue cheese.

blue cheese

The first time I made this soup, I told guests I'd made a spicy tomato and blue cheese soup. Three people said they'd pass. As in, have no soup. At all. The rest of us tucked into our bowls, and in no time, we were oohing and ahhing over how smooth, how strangely deep and rich it was. No matter: the three holdouts remained unwaveringly uninterested.

tomato soup ingredients

I learned the hard way that this soup does best with as barebones an introduction as possible. In this house, we call it tomato soup. Everyone loves tomato soup; no one asks any questions. If you don't know there's blue cheese lurking within your bowl, you'll never guess. You'll just take your first spoonful, then your second. And if you're anything like me, you'll declare this the bes tomato soup you've ever had.

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Michael Symon's Tomato Soup adapted from Symon's book, Live to Cook

This soup is heady and flavorful - so much so that it can withstand a few adaptations. To wit: the recipe calls for whole canned SM tomatoes. I've only ever used the whole ones, but this time I only had crushed on hand; no problem. Also, I've made this recipe with stock only once, and it was vegetable stock; the other times, I've used water with no problem at all. Lastly, this time I did actually manage to find the Roth Käse cheese, but in the past I've used other cheeses. Again, no problem.

2 tablespoons olive oil 1 medium red onion, finely chopped Kosher salt 4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced 1 28-ounce can San Marzano tomatoes, undrained 1 1/2 cups chicken stock, vegetable stock, or water 3/4 cup heavy cream - I've scaled this back to 1/2 cup at times; totally fine 2 tablespoons sriracha sauce, store-bought or homemade 1 tablespoon fresh oregano leaves 1/2 cup crumbled rich, creamy blue cheese, preferably Roth Käse Buttermilk Blue Cheese

Heat the olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion and a generous pinch of salt and stir to coat the onion with oil. Cover and cook for 2 minutes.

Add garlic, cover the pot, and cook for 2 minutes more. Add the tomatoes and their juices and the stock or water, and bring to a simmer. Add the cream, sriracha, and oregano and simmer gently (on medium-low heat) for 45 minutes.

Remove from the heat, and let soup cool for at least 10 minutes, then add blue cheese and blend until smooth in a blender or using an immersion blender, working in batches if needed. Reheat gently. Serve immediately. (The tomato soup will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for up to a few days.)

Roasted Corn and Tomatillo Soup

A couple weeks ago, D and I went to my parents' house to celebrate my mom's birthday. I've talked about my mom a bunch on this site, and I know I've said before that she's responsible for any and all of my good cooking instincts (and none of the bad ones). She's an experimenter in the kitchen, always tinkering with recipes until they're just perfect. And she's got an uncanny ability to pick out ingredients by smell and taste. Just last night, over dinner at the wonderful Rasika (a belated birthday present from us kids), we tasted the baingan bartha (our favorite type of curry: slow-roasted eggplant with tomato and plenty of smoke), and when I asked if she thought she could replicate it at home, she said maybe not, because her garam masala has less nutmeg than Rasika's. Understand, for a moment, that garam masala is a blend of several spices, and that it's only one ingredient of the many in baingan bartha - and yet, she was able to pull nutmeg out of the stack. I don't know how she does it.

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But I digress. You see, never have my mother's tinkering and testing talents been put to better use than in the roasted corn and tomatillo soup she made for her birthday dinner. It was the first course of way too many, but I couldn't stop myself: I had three bowls of soup. It was deeply smokey but also sweet from summer corn, rounded out with pungent ginger and bright lime juice. She served it with a tomato swirl-in that is both entirely optional and entirely delicious. It was the best bowl of soup I've had in a long, long time.

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At my begging request, my mother worked up a recipe that pretty much mirrored what she had done. I simplified it a bit, and I also added variations for those of us not using our ovens right now. Admittedly, mine came out noticeably greyer than hers did - perhaps I didn't do as good a job as getting the burnt, blistered skin off those tomatillos - but it was no less tasty. I've provided both sets of instructions below.

Whichever way you choose, do make this soup. It captures the heat, the freshness, the rustic chunkiness, and the juicy sweetness of summer vegetables. It's really special.

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Roasted Corn and Tomatillo Soupadapted from my mother

As I mentioned above, my mother's A/C is great, so she uses her oven in summertime. Mine, not so much - I'm loath to turn the oven on. Roasting corn in the husks does give it this very particular woodsiness, so if you can roast the ears that way, by all means, do. I removed the husks, and roasted my corn over an open flame until they were speckled with golden brown kernels. I also used a stove-proof rack to roast the peppers, tomatillos and garlic over the stove, until their skins had browned all over.

5 ears of corn, in the husks (if roasting in the oven; otherwise, remove husks) 3-4 small young cucumbers, peeled 5 or 6 tomatillos, husks removed and skins rinsed 1-2 serrano peppers, to taste 1 yellow bell pepper 3 cloves garlic, unpeeled 1 large shallot 1 inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and grated 6-8 basil leaves, torn or chopped 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley 2 tablespoons seasoned rice wine vinegar (Trader Joe’s brand is our favorite) juice of half a lime 1 cup water 1 cup Greek yogurt Salt to taste Up to 1 tablespoon sugar, or to taste 2-3 tablespoons olive oil, if needed

Turn on the oven to 350. Clean off dirt adhering to the cornhusks. Place corn directly on oven rack in the middle of the oven and roast for 30 minutes. Let the corn cool before removing the husks.

(Alternatively, remove husks from corn and roast over an open flame on the stove, until kernels are golden brown in spots.)

While corn is roasting, grate the cucumbers into a sieve or strainer placed over a bowl. Lightly salt the cucumbers and set aside.

Line a small baking sheet with foil. Place the sweet pepper, serrano peppers, tomatillo, shallot, and garlic (unpeeled) onto the baking sheet. Broil the tomatillos and peppers until the skins blacken and/or blister. Watch the hot peppers because they might take less time than the larger sweet pepper. Broil garlic and shallot until skins are browned all over. When peppers are done, place them in a covered dish or a paper bag so they will steam as they cool. Once cooled, remove the skins from all the vegetables, and seed the peppers. Transfer the vegetables into the bowl of a food processor or blender.

After removing corn husks (if necessary), grate the ears of corn into the processor bowl. Squeeze the liquid out of the grated cucumbers and place them in the processor bowl as well. Add ginger, basil, and parsley to processor bowl. Pulse processor a few times to chop vegetables.

Add vinegar, lime juice, and water, and process until smooth. Add yogurt and pulse to combine. Taste and add salt, sugar, and more acid as necessary. If you want soup to be even smoother, add a couple tablespoons of olive oil and blend until smooth. Chill thoroughly.

For the tomato pesto (if using):

Half a slice of stale bread 2 medium tomatoes 1 clove garlic Pinch of sugar 1/2 teaspoon cumin Pinch of salt, or to taste Splash of rice wine vinegar (seasoned or plain is fine) Fresh ground black pepper 2 tablespoons olive oil

Soak the bread in water until it is very soft. Slightly squeeze out the water. Place it in bowl of a food processor.

Quarter the tomatoes or chop them in big chunks. Place in processor. Add sugar, salt, vinegar, cumin, and pepper. Process everything and while the processor is running, drop the garlic cloves through the feed tube. Drizzle in the olive oil while processor is on; blend until smooth. Place in refrigerator to chill.

To serve, spoon corn soup into small bowls; top with a couple spoonfuls of the tomato pesto in the center.