Homemade artisan vinaigrette.

 

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Why do I bother making vinaigrette?

Because I really like good olive oil. And no one makes a bottled dressing made with olive oil!

I used to cheat and buy the bottled stuff and believe me I bought the most expensive stuff on the shelf. I looked for front of the package labeling and when I found one with olive oil, that’s the one I picked.

Then one day I turned the bottle around and read the ingredient list. The first thing I noticed was the olive oil was not listed first.  What I found was canola oil or soybean oil. Those are not bad oils, but they are NOT olive oil. And where was olive oil listed? Much further down on the list.

Ingredients must be listed in descending order by weight. For those of you who are not label mavens, it’s okay to market a product and label it olive oil on the front of the label as long as olive oil is listed somewhere in the ingredient list.

That was the day I started making my own homemade artisan vinaigrette.

Now take a look at my vinaigrette pictured above. The ingredient list is short and simple. Olive oil, vinegar, salt.

I should add my cost for ingredients is about three times what I would pay for even the most expensive brand of bottled dressing because good olive oil is not cheap.  This cost factor explains why most people are okay with a blend.

My oil of choice is Arbequina olive oil from California. Olive oil is shelf stable, but unlike wine, olive oil doesn’t benefit from aging. Every November after the harvest, I order 6 liters so my vinaigrette is always made with an oil that is less than 12 months old. I use a good vinegar (7% acidity) and salt.

Most recipes I see for vinaigrette are volume based. My preference is weight based and I use my scale. No measuring cups to wash. No waste. And that’s good because at the price I pay for my olive oil, I can’t afford to waste a drop. Both volume and weight are referenced below however because most of you probably do not have a scale yet.

275 grams extra virgin olive oil like Arbequina (300 ml or 1 1/4 cup plus 1 teaspoon)

100 grams Sherry or wine vinegar (100 ml or 7 tablespoons)

5.8 grams salt (2 level teaspoons)

My problem with salt.

 

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Everyone loves salt. Chefs love salt. Cooks love salt. I love salt.  Even some of my zealous colleagues love salt as long as you don’t use too much.

But I am not going to discuss the usual list of salt problems. Why? Because this post is about salt, which is a molecule, and not about sodium, which is one of the elements that makes up the salt molecule.

When health professionals address “salt” problems, they are talking about sodium problems.  Don’t get me wrong. These sodium problems are important and include health risks, conflicting expert research, and medical costs.  But my problem with salt has nothing to do with sodium or health risks. My problem with salt is that it is hard to measure

Pictured above is my beam balance jeweler’s scale with the required 5.8 grams salt needed for a batch of my own artisan vinaigrette. I make up a batch every 10 days or so and I weigh the salt every time because it’s the only way to get an accurate measure.

The measurement issue really hit me earlier this year when I listened to a talented chef tell some colleagues how bad he had messed up. But let me start this story at the beginning.

I was doing data collection work for a Manhattan restaurant.  One of the perks of working with restaurant folks is you get to schmooze a little with chefs.  Now I know chefs love salt and I’ve watched them through handfuls on foods as they cooked.  I also know chefs don’t always like to measure stuff.  Most chefs don’t even want to talk to an RDN about salt, but since I was there to do some work, the atmosphere was relaxed and salt did come up in the conversation.

“You know just the other evening I was cooking at a friend’s house and I put in way too much salt … like I’m the professional and I lost so much  credibility … talk about embarrassing … I don’t know what happened but wow was it a disaster … ”  Those words got everyone’s attention. When the chef de cuisine said he messed up, everyone listens. Now this chef is so good at what he does no one believed him when he said he messed up.  No one that is except me and I had a pretty good idea why he messed up.

The salt he used in the restaurant was different from the salt his friend stocked in the pantry.  Mistakes like this one happen all the time.  Why?  Because depending on the grind, the type, and even the manufacturer, salt volumes can vary.  Not just a little either.  Salt volumes can very a lot!

Most really good cooks and probably all chefs do what I usually do which is salt to taste.  That is what Julia Child said. It’s right there in black and white in all her books.  As she put it “adjust seasoning.”

The technique works just fine as long as you use the same brand, the same type, the same grind, and you are cooking for the same people.  Salting to taste works great when all those variables are stable.  Maybe you use a little more than my zealous colleagues would like to see on a plate, but if you know what you’re doing and you know your customer, the amount you use will taste just fine.

So given how variable salt volumes can be, what is the best method when you use a different grind, or change brands, or cook for a different customer, or a family member has a health problem?

Here is what I do.  I use my jeweler’s scale and I weigh salt.  Gram for gram, different grinds or types of salt can be substituted one for the other by weight.  Coarsely ground red sea salt or fine evenly ground table salt or translucent flakey kosher salt, no matter which you use, if you measure by weight you will get the same amount of saltiness. That is why I weigh salt for my vinaigrette. I want just the right amount every time.

Try to visualize how variable salt volumes can be with these different kinds of salt.  Oversized large grains of sea salt take up one size space.  Light flakes of fluffy salt take up another size space.  And evenly ground small grains of table salt take up yet another size space.

In other words, using a teaspoon of table salt instead of a teaspoon of flake salt means twice as much salt.  Yep, you read that one right.  Put another way, if a recipe calls for 1 teaspoon salt and the developer used flake salt but you use table salt, the result will be twice as salty.  And twice as much sodium.  Oooooops! Said I wasn’t going to mention sodium. Oh well …

Anyway, that is the reason why nerds like me get a scale for measuring salt.  A good digital jeweler’s scale costs over at least $100 or more.  I would love to have one, but even I can justify that price.  So what I use is a beam balance jeweler’s scale and this works just fine for the types and grinds that I need to measure.

These are guidelines I use when accurate measurement is required:

  1. If you salt to taste, always use the same grind and the same type.  And if you cook in someone else’s kitchen, be cautious.
  2. If you use spoons to measure salt, keep in mind that 1 teaspoon of the flake version like diamond kosher salt weighs 3 grams (1/10 ounce) but 1 teaspoon table salt weighs 6 grams (1/5 ounce).  Sea salts and colored salts and exotic salts will vary but most will fall much closer to the table salt than the flake salt.
  3. When you try out a new recipe, always try to determine what type and grind the recipe developer was using.  Most recipes use table salt but not all.  And be cautious.  You can always add more salt.  Taking it out once you have added too much is virtually impossible.

 

 

 

Healthy versus Healthy.

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Most of us agree now that healthy eating is important. This is new. Just a few years ago, labeling something healthy was the kiss of death. But times have changed.

Is it a seismic shift? Time will tell on that one, but observers agree that it’s big and important and requires attention.

The good news is we all want to eat healthy. The bad news is we can’t agree on what exactly healthy is.

Take supermarkets. The average supermarket has 45,000 individual items. At least that was what the Food Marketing Institute estimated when they did the count for 2013. And every one of those products has a label and many have additional certifications.

Or farmer’s markets. Plenty of good stuff to buy at least in the summer. But the produce is dirty and untrimmed and needs to be stored correctly and cooked. Not easy tasks without a good kitchen set up and lots of time to shop.

Or restaurants. Cooking not required. But you still have to make choices and decide what to order.

Now imagine how much harder all this is if you never took a home economics course or learned cooking skills? Or if you had never seen a farm or had a home garden? Or if you never met anyone who stocked a root cellar or made cheese or baked bread? We have a situation where one to two generations comes to the marketplace without these basic skills.

What to eat is a tough decision. And sometimes all you have to go on is an image or a label.

People may know the words they want but they need help translating the words to the table. Now this is good for those of us in the translation business. We can plate healthy to fit what the person says they want. And that’s good for business.

But labels are like metaphors. They stand for something in the real world. Think about it this way. In Ireland, grass-fed isn’t used as a marketing label. It’s simply the way it’s done. At least for now.

Accessible, normal things don’t need labels. But today’s consumers don’t bring basic cooking and food skills to the table and so they depend on labels.  Healthy is defined by so many different labels today that I could not find room to fit them all in the infograph. Like I say, it’s good for those of us in the translation business.

Confusion continues and labels sell products and marketing works.

And the bright shiny silver lining to the dark cloud of confusion is most people may actually really be eating healthier today. The competition between contenders for the best healthy diet is fierce, but as long as it uses real food and more fruits and vegetables and whole grains, at least the essentials will be in place.

Why count when it all tastes so good?

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Beautiful. Delicious. Let’s Eat.

The perfect late spring supper for our north east coast growing season. Planting has started but only asparagus and ramps are coming in right now so I’m still dependent on California, Texas, and Florida. The arrangement on my plate is what the French call a Salade Composée. Call me a thwarted graphic designer, but I have always loved making stylized plate designs.

Simple ingredients:  greens, vegetables (tomato, cucumber, legumes, red cabbage), grains preferable whole grain, protein, and dressing.

Homemade vinaigrette is always on hand because I make my own and we eat salads all the time.  Basic extra virgin olive oil, vinegar, and salt.

Legumes are always on hand too because I buy dry beans in bulk and cook batches as needed. The only component that requires cooking is the grain.  The one I used for this salad is freekeh, an ancient grain with roots in the Middle East. Traditionally, it’s made from wheat so freekeh is not gluten free. The berries are harvested while still green or yellow, then roasting during processing. Smoky. Nutty. Chewy. Freekeh is a perfect grain for a savory salad. But it needs to be cooked first and that takes about 15 to 20 minutes.

While the grain is cooking, I wash and trim all the vegetables. I don’t measure when I’m doing a quick supper like I did the night I made this salad. But I know from past scrutiny I want about 16 ounces (450 grams) on the plate and look for a distribution by weigh of 40% vegetables, 20% legume, 20% protein, 10% grain, and 10% dressing.

Once everything is washed, peeled, chopped, drained, cooked, and ready to go, the fun begins.

The plate starts with a bed of arugula and green leaf lettuce.

Then portion the protein. That is canned tuna you see up there in the upper right. A couple of tablespoons of a Spanish line caught tuna packed in olive oil. Tonnino Ventresca. Really delicious but on the expensive side.

Next in line going clockwise is the grain. My personal choice is freehka, but farro or buckwheat or quinoa work just as well.

Now some chopped red cabbage. Cabbages are good keepers and help to bridge the gap between the end of the last year’s harvest and the green shoots of spring.

Next are some Kirby cucumbers.

For legumes, I used chickpeas because that is what I had on hand.  Use what you like or use what’s sitting on the shelf or in the frig. Home cooked tastes better, but canned is more convenient when time is a factor.

The final touches are a hard cooked egg cut in six pieces, a handful of cherry tomatoes, and a scallion for garnish. With a couple of generous tablespoons of vinaigrette, the salad is dressed and ready to go.

So at this point you may be asking me why mess up the meal with counting?

I don’t disagree. But I feel a responsible. A cook needs to know what the people they feed are eating. Pleasure and good company is key to healthy eating. But so are healthy food choices. And that means you count, even if it’s only miles travelled between farm to table. Here are some good examples of the kind of counting I do.

  • Portioning the Protein.  Prep cooks in restaurants portion protein for the line cooks for two reasons. The chef needs to manage costs and the customer needs to feel the portion is good value. Some of us, chefs and eaters alike, check for sustainability. But nutritionists like me portion protein for other reasons. We like to know the grams and we like to know the distribution between animal (egg and tuna) and plant (legumes and grain).
  • Salt and Sodium.  Whichever side you take as the salt wars rage on, knowing how much you use and where it comes from is required for baseline.
  • Balance the Plate. The Dietary Guidelines and MyPlate get criticized from both sides of the food spectrum. Manufacturers and producers don’t want to count anything that can be perceived as a negative. The healthy eating crew has for understandable reasons lost faith in the government’s ability to provide valid advice. But here are some observations. Using 16 ounces (450 grams) as the reference amount, my salad provides 3 cups of vegetables, 2 ounces of protein, and 1 ounce of grain. Bonus points for fish, plant protein, leafy greens, and whole grains.

The calorie count for the 16 ounce (450 gram) salad which includes 3 generous tablespoons dressingis 590 calories. As for the other nutrients:  26 grams protein, 41 grams fat, 41 grams carbohydrate, 10 grams fiber. The largest contributor to those 16 ounces is the water weight from the vegetables which accounts for 74% or about 10 1/2 ounces.

And for the usual suspects:  720 mg sodium, 6 grams saturated fat, no added sugar.

Salt sources in descending order:   vinaigrette, chickpeas, tuna, freekeh, egg, vegetables.

Saturated fat in descending order:  vinaigrette, egg, tuna, chickpea.

So why bother counting when it all tastes so good? Because the cook need to know. The people at table don’t necessarily need to know. And it’s important to keep in mind that too much obsession with eating healthy can be as detrimental to good health as too little. But the cook still needs to know that nutrition bases are covered and that salt and fats have been put to good culinary use.

The reason I salt my lentil soup.

lentil soup

 

 

 

It’s a damp, grey, periodically rainy April day here in New York City. It’s spring but you’d never know it. So I’m sitting here thinking about lentil soup instead of tender green shoots. An absolutely perfect day for a big bowl of lentil soup. Spring will come and those first tentative little shoots will appear, but it’s definitely not going to happen today.

My lentil soup is pictured above. Rich, earthy, delicious, and always appreciated on a chilly day like today.

I always make my own lentil soup. Here’s why.

First, doing it myself is economical. Brand name shelf-stable lentil soups are convenient and good to have on hand but will run as much as six dollars a liter whereas my home crafted version is closer to two dollars a liter. And that price includes using small organic French green lentils known as lentilles du Puy. Using conventional grey lentils or brown lentils, the soup would be even cheaper.

Second, doing it myself gives me more flexibility in seasoning and salting.

The soup is so easy to make I don’t bother with a recipe. Except I measure the salt. But I’ll explain why later. Thanks to the Internet, there are a gazillion recipes out there for every skill level from plodding amateur to expert proficiency. So if you need a recipe, please find one that fits your skill level.

My soup starts with a generous pound / 500 grams du Puy lentils plus an onion, a carrot, some celery stalks, and 5 tablespoons olive oil / 75 grams olive oil for a soffrito.  I use a liter of low sodium chicken stock plus enough water for cooking the soup and ending up with 3 liters finished product. Or about 12 cups of soup.

The reason I am careful with seasoning is because I want the people who sit at my table to enjoy and relish my lentil soup.

Lentils are a healthy and nutrient dense vegetable. We count them as either a phytonutrient rich vegetable or a plant protein with a compliment of vitamins, minerals, and fibers.  I want to make the soup palatable because no matter how healthy lentils are, if the soup does not taste good, nobody will benefit.  So I use herbs either in season or dry and an acid either balsamic vinegar or tomato sauce and some pepper.  And I use salt.

The ratio of salt to soup that works for me is 5 grams per liter or 15 grams for three liters. That works out to 5 teaspoons flake salt or 2 1/2 teaspoons sea salt for the 3 liters. Enough salt to enhance the earthiness of the lentils and balance the acidity of the vinegar without being overbearing.

Salt is a controversial nutrient. There are health implication, culinary implications, and cultural implications.  Let me put the amount referenced into perspective.

The amount of sodium in a cup of my lentil soup is about 550mg. That level is a little higher than the FDA disclosure level of 480mg per serving but still below the National Salt Reduction Initiative 2014 target for soup which would be closer to 620mg for a cup.

Because I know how to run my daily numbers, I know that my daily average sodium intake is usually at or below the recommended 2400mg even when I salt to taste as I do when I make lentil soup.

I think it was Anthony Bourdain who is reputed to have said that salt makes everything taste better. The man speaks the truth. Salt works. Here is how I see things. Salt is there to make really healthy things taste good. So I want people who might not eat lentils to taste my soup and find it irresistibly delicious.

 

 

 

 

The bounty of the harvest in the middle of winter.

sauerkraut, potatoe, sausage, mustard
sauerkraut, potato, sausage, mustard

Home made sauerkraut braised with potatoes and modest serving of Italian sweet sausage served with good mustard. That was supper last night. Delicious!

Sauerkraut was my cottage industry project last fall when the CSA sent me a humungeous green cabbage and my challenge now mid January is to find creative interesting ways to plate it.

Before the wonders of modern industrial production, most of us had no choice but to eat sauerkraut and potatoes and other good keepers. Being the obstreperous creatures we humans are, lots of people like me are looking past the present back to a simpler time. I plead guilty to occasional episodes of pastoral romanticism mostly because it’s fun and I have a little discretionary time to spend on my favorite pastime which is food. I’m also curious and love to study the science behind why things like sauerkraut work.

We have been working our way through the sauerkraut I make last Fall for the last three months. I never made my own sauerkraut before so I can’t say this is the best I’ve ever made, but I can say it’s the best sauerkraut I’ve ever tasted because the only sauerkraut I ever had before was off the shelf commercial. What a difference my artisan sauerkraut made on a simple and totally American hot dog!

So here we our in the middle of January and the sauerkraut still smells sweet and still tastes good. Amazing what can be done at home! Well you may be laughing but I really do think this process is wondrous. And even more relevant the process is considered safe.

What was once survival and necessity has become an activity for people like me privileged enough to have the discretionary time for experimentation. Fermentation has been part of human history and was vital in human survival in the days before refrigerators, freezers, and processed food. Fermentation allowed us to preserve food in a nutritional and safe way when there was no supermarket to provide it. Cheese, yogurt, sauerkraut, kimchee, olives, salami, jerky, even bread are examples of fermentation used for preservation.

I have made my own yogurt and bread, but don’t do it anymore because an off the shelf product will meet my quality standards and I choose to spend time experimenting in other ways.

Supper last night was a home run. Totally delicious.

Fermentation is marked to become one of the most important food trends of 2015. But because there is no off the shelf product as good as my cottage industry sauerkraut yet, there’s a good chance I will make up another batch next year.

 

Working my way through the CSA.

leek, potatoes, rutabaga, nutmeg
leek, potatoes, rutabaga, nutmeg

Picked up my last load from the CSA the day before Thanksgiving and am still working my way through. Over the six months of the season I got 270 pounds of vegetables. In other words, I picked up and brought home 10 to 20 pounds per week. Every week for 26 weeks. My goal was to eat or distribute everything and on that count I’ve done an outstanding job. So far. But I’m not finished yet.

Pictured above are some potatoes and a lovely bunch of leeks for my soup. Up in one corner is a rutabaga which I’m going to use with the potatoes and in the other corner a nutmeg which I will grate as the soup finishes cooking. An appreciation goes to James Beard for the suggestion of using nutmeg in leek and potato soup. I’m pretty creative in the kitchen, but I never would have thought of that one on my own.

I love leeks but they are sometimes a pain in the neck because they can be full of sand. These leeks were comparatively sand free so in no time I have them washed and sliced them.

Now I put a couple of tablespoons olive oil in the 4 liter soup pot, toss in the leeks, and let them braise. As the leeks soften and get aromatic, I scrub and cut up the potatoes leaving the skin on for extra fiber and nutrients. The rutabaga got added because I don’t know what else to do with it. It’s the same color as the potatoes and hopefully it will all just blend right in.

I add a liter of low sodium stock, chuck in the potatoes and the rutabaga, and let it all come to a boil. Then turn the heat down and gently simmer until the potatoes are soft.

My preference is low sodium stock not because I don’t want salt but because I want to add the salt to my taste. Also the presalted stocks do not taste as clean to my palate as the low sodium ones.

When the potatoes are soft enough to mash, I pull out the food mill. A wonderful kitchen devise that manually pulverized vegetables into chunks or purée pieces. The food mill is much gentler than the food processor. What is really cool about using the food mill is that the potatoes and leeks go in one end and out the other end comes soup. Back into the pot. Adjust the seasonings. Grate in some nutmeg. I used half the piece. Add more water or stock if the consistency is too thick. And as a final touch, I stir in a good sized piece of butter.

And there you have it, a nourishing late fall soup.

Best of all my leeks and the rutabaga are gone. And all I have left is 7 pounds of potatoes in my pantry. Hummmmmm …

Just don’t do anything that will poison us!

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Those were Jeff’s words of encouragement when I told him I wanted to make a sauerkraut.

Why you may be asking did I want to make sauerkraut? Here’s why. My CSA had put a gigantic humongous incredibly heavy 5 1/2 pound cabbage in my box and, along with other 10 pounds of assorted vegetables, I had one week before the next delivery to figure out what to do with the lavish abundance. Besides I never made a sauerkraut before.

Now I am not a complete novice. I did ferment some cucumbers once. Granted it was way before I met Jeff, but I didn’t poison my self that time. And that was really before I had a clue what I was doing.

Just for the record, those fermented cucumbers were the best pickles I have ever eaten.

I still don’t really know what I’m doing now, but I’m a lot more knowledgeable today and even more important I know where to start looking. So with Jeff’s words of encouragement ringing in my ears, I began my search.

For do it yourself sauerkraut, the Internet really excels. So I did my due diligence reading up on the matter and determined that fermentation is one of the older forms of preservation practiced by us humans. As it is technically called, lacto-fermentation has been practiced for centuries as a method for preserving excess vegetable at the end of the growing season.

During the fermentation process, the vegetables are cut or shredded, and salt is added. The salt draws out the vegetable liquid and the vegetables ferment in their juices.

State Extension Services seem to have the more detailed technical information like percentage of salt solution and temperature ranges most favorable to promote the growth of the good guys i.e. lactic acid and discourage entry of the bad guys i.e. spoilage or food poisoning microorganisms otherwise know as the stuff that makes you sick.

I also checked a FaceBook group for people who love to ferment all kinds of weird stuff. I got a lot of moral support and realized there were lots of people out there who ferment cabbage into sauerkraut and have lived to talk about it.

I need to Follow directions. Need to be careful. It’s times like this I am glad I took microbiology.

Okay, if primitive illiterate humans can ferment a cabbage and live to tell about it, a well educated, intelligent, twenty-first century female should certainly be able to rise to the occasion.

So I gathered my references, pulled out my biggest bread bowl, washed and sliced my caggage, measured out my salt solution, and set it all to ferment at the appropriate temperature. And I checked it every day.

The fermentation process appears to be variable. As little as three days and as long as three months. Depends on which source you read and which person you talk to. However on day ten, here in New York we got hit with a cold spell so I decided it was time to close down the cottage industry. I packed the sauerkraut into to liter glass containers and moved them to the frig. We had pork chops on Sunday, so I served some kraut alongside with sweet potatoes.

Jeff’s responce “This tastes pretty good … It sure tastes like sauerkraut … “.

Next step is to build up enough courage to take a taste straight up. I tagged it safe. Now I need to follow through and taste it without heating the kraut up first.

My romance with broccoli.

organic broccoli
organic broccoli

 

Pictured above is the broccoli that came in this week’s CSA box. Pristine, lovely, organic, and ready to use. And not a worm or an aberrant insect to be seen.

I love broccoli. We eat seasonal and local which here in the north east means mid-summer into late fall. Seasonal and local also means organic broccoli from a CSA or greenmarket.

My broccoli is usually braised in olive oil, garlic, and a pinch of salt. More than al dente but never over-cooked. I cut the flowered heads off from the stem, removing the tough fibrous skin from the stalks, and cut the stems into bite sized pieces. No need to get too fancy with broccoli because it tastes so good on its own.

We eat broccoli in season, but in the depths of a north east winter, that vibrant green California crop looks pretty good. So not being a purist, we also eat broccoli out of season. I’m okay with conventional during the winter when my local grocer has a good selection.

I used to get romantic about broccoli. Especially a broccoli that I picked myself right off the stalk. But I learned a harsh lesson during that first year I cooked in Garches. And I have looked at broccoli with a realistic eye ever since.

My friend Isabelle has a beautiful house and property in this little suburb half way between Paris and Versailles. She had an arrangement with a local gardener. He could grow whatever vegetable he wanted to and sell them in return for making the garden available to us. And we ate marvelously well from that garden!

I would just go out and pick whatever I wanted each day. Broccoli came in that fall and I was there to pick some for supper. But just once.

Being young and romantic I believed all that was natural was good. Now a farmer knows that when you grow broccoli, you have to deal with worms. Organic or conventional, worms love broccoli. However the farmer decides to farm it, worms are part of the calculation. But I grew up in the suburbs so how was I supposed to know?

Conventional farmers use conventional pesticides; organic farmers use USDA organically approved pesticides. I don’t think this guy used anything. The broccoli was completely natural and completely full of worms.

I put up a valiant battle. But the worms outnumbered and out gunned me. There were so many I gave up trying and ended up dumping everything back out somewhere behind a bush. I could not look at broccoli again for a long time.

My love of broccoli did return but I lost my romanticism. And I still find myself checking for little nasty critters. So God Bless whatever my organic farmer / conventional farmer needs to so I don’t have to deal with worms.

What to do with too many vegetables soup.

vegetable soup
zucchini, collard, potato soup

I love soups. Especially as we move into fall and the days get shorter and the nights get colder. Warm, appetizing, aromatic, easy to make, and one of the best ways to use up vegetables when you have too many. Like when my CSA keeps sending me more vegetables than we can eat.

That’s my soup pictured above. Those very dark green pieces are collards. The softer light green pieces are zucchini. Potatoes blend in to add consistency and softness. And the orange pieces are carrots from the soffritto.

Because the CSA keeps sending me vegetables we don’t usually eat, like zucchini or collards or potatoes, my creative cooking skills have been getting challenged on a weekly basis. But nothing can go to waste, so here’s how I handled the overload from the last couple of weeks.

Every soup gets started the same way. I pull out my AllClad 4 liter soup pot and start the soffritto. Put some olive oil, a chopped onion, some chopped carrot and celery in the pot and let it all slowly sauté until the onion starts to turn color.Soggriggere is the Italian word for sauté and my soups always start with a soffritto.

Now comes the fun part. Open the frig.

First I found those two remaining zucchini from I think two weeks ago. One was big enough to have seeds inside so I had to scrape them out. The other one was smaller and was good to go. Washed, trimmed, and chopped the zucchini goes into the pot. I let the zucchini pieces start to brown in the olive oil. Thank goodness it’s the end of the season because I am running out of zucchini ideas. Could anyone imagine a vegetable more devoid of character or taste than a zucchini?

Then I found the bag of the collard leaves. Collards are an incredibly healthy phytonutrient rich vegetable, but my preference is kale or rapini or chard. Collards are, however, good in soups because they hold both shape and color during cooking. So I washed the leaves, removed the thick spine, chopped then up in small pieces, and put them in the pot.

Can’t forget potatoes! I have eaten more potatoes this fall than I’ve eaten over the last couple of years combined. The potato skin needs good scrubbing but no need to remove it. Just cut them up in pieces and into the pot they go.

Then I add a liter box of chicken stock (low sodium) to the pot along with some dry herbes de province. Fresh herbs work better, but I didn’t have any on hand. And finally 1/4 teaspoon salt.

Everything gets to slowly simmer together for about 40 minutes.

Once all the vegetables soften and start to blend, I run the pieces through my food mill and soup comes out the other end. I prefer the rough cut version you see in the picture so I use the largest grate of the food mill. It’s just that easy to make 2 liters of vegetable soup. Any greens you have on hand should work just fine.

To see how the soup scores on my Healthy versus Healthy infograph, check the tags.