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FROM THE NEW YORK TIMES ARCHIVES HEARTY WINTER AND TBook Collections

Copyright © 2014 The New York Times Company. All rights reserved.

Cover photograph by Andrew Scrivani for The New York Times

This ebook was created using Vook.

All of the articles in this work originally appeared in The New York Times. eISBN: 9781634614450

The New York Times Company New York, NY www.nytimes.com www.nytimes.com/tbooks A Simmer of Hope

By MOLLY O’NEILL January 30, 1994

Stew occupies a precarious place in the collective culinary subconscious. When the slow simmer of a potful of makes an unctuous whole far greater than its parts, the dish has triumphed over the mundane, achieving an edible synthesis of a culture, be it Hungarian or Creole . When, on the other hand, a fails to reconcile disparate ingredients, it can be a poignant reminder of the limits of human effort, sad to think about, horrible to taste.

Desire flirts with the possibility of disaster when you hanker for a stew. But few primitive appetites have ever been risk-free, so stew persists. Outside the kitchen, to stew is to fret, to be vexed and worried, to fall victim to your own actions. In the kitchen, however, to stew is to hope — to hope that the choice of ingredients will meld felicitously as they mellow together in a pot. Instinct is needed to season properly, and to temper the developing stew with basic touches — more or , a counterpoint of vinegar or lemon, a blast of fresh .

Anyone who stews depends on the patience it takes to soften and tenderly, so that the aromatics caramelize and lend a sweetness to the pot; pan-toasting and browning require a certain plodding vigilance as well.

In the end, the mandatory slow simmer is the most exhausting aspect of a stew. Yet, the best a cook has to offer is the extraordinary restraint it takes to let something become the best it can be, unabetted. The cook can stir and adjust but is basically little more than a witness to the adagio of a low flame nipping the underside of a big pot, working a slow alchemy. Rushing ruins the whole thing. High heat, like bitter cold, tends to force food to stiffen rather that yield, making a polarized muddle rather than a nuanced melange. Since rushing head down to the wind is winter’s preferred state, there is something cosmically dissonant about engendering the slow surrender that is stew. But therein lies the lure of a one-pot meal on a cold night.

There is no high drama about a stew. However fine, stew is a homey, intimate exchange, a paean to the way living things improve when their boundaries relax, when they incorporate some of the character and of others. Soulful, a word inextricably linked with a good sturdy stew, is the payoff to the cook who plans a little and has the patience to abide. OLD-FASHIONED STEW

1/4 cup all-purpose 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper 1 pound beef stewing meat, trimmed and cut into inch cubes 5 teaspoons oil 2 tablespoons red vinegar 1 cup red wine 3 1/2 cups beef broth, homemade or low-sodium canned 2 bay leaves 1 medium , peeled and chopped 5 medium carrots, peeled and cut into 1/4-inch rounds 2 large potatoes, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch cubes 2 teaspoons

1. Combine the flour and pepper in a bowl, add the beef and toss to coat well. Heat 3 teaspoons of the oil in a large pot. Add the beef a few pieces at a time; do not overcrowd. Cook, turning the pieces until beef is browned on all sides, about 5 minutes per batch; add more oil as needed between batches.

2. Remove the beef from the pot and add the vinegar and wine. Cook over medium-high heat, scraping the pan with a wooden spoon to loosen any browned bits. Add the beef, beef broth and bay leaves. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a slow simmer.

3. Cover and cook, skimming broth from time to time, until the beef is tender, about 1 1/2 hours. Add the onions and carrots and simmer, covered, for 10 minutes. Add the potatoes and simmer until are tender, about 30 minutes more. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Ladle among 4 bowls and serve.

Yield: 4 servings. GOULASH

2 teaspoons unsalted butter 2 medium onions, peeled and thinly sliced 2 tablespoons sweet Hungarian 1 teaspoon seeds 1 pound beef stewing meat, trimmed and cut into 1-inch cubes 1/4 cup all-purpose flour 2 cups beef broth, homemade or low-sodium canned 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice 2 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

1. Melt the butter in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring frequently, until wilted, about 10 minutes. Stir in the paprika and caraway seeds and cook 1 minute more. In a bowl, toss the beef with the flour to coat well. Add the beef to the onion mixture. Cook, stirring, for 2 minutes.

2. Add 1/2 cup of the broth, stirring and scraping the bottom of the pot. Gradually stir in the remaining broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a slow simmer. Cover and cook until the beef is tender, about 1 1/2 hours. Stir in the lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste. Serve over wide .

Yield: 4 servings. LAMB STEW WITH AND BUTTERNUT SQUASH

1 teaspoon ground cumin 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander 1/4 teaspoon turmeric 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper, plus more to taste Pinch of 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour 1 pound lamb stewing meat, trimmed and cut into 1-inch cubes 5 teaspoons vegetable oil 1 small onion, peeled and thinly sliced 2 large cloves , peeled and minced 3 cups chicken broth, homemade or low-sodium canned 1 small butternut squash, peeled, seeds and fibers scooped out, cut into3/4-inch cubes 1 19-ounce can chickpeas, drained and rinsed 1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro

1. Combine the spices and salt in a bowl. In a large bowl, stir together 1/4 cup flour and 1 1/2 teaspoons of the mixture, add the lamb and coat well. Heat 3 teaspoons of oil in a large pot. Add lamb a few pieces at a time; don’t overcrowd. Turn the pieces until lamb is browned on all sides, about 5 minutes per batch; add a teaspoon of oil as needed between batches.

2. Remove the lamb and set aside. Add the remaining teaspoon of oil and the onion to the pot. Cook for 2 minutes. Stir in the garlic and cook for 15 seconds. Stir in the lamb and remaining spice mixture. Stir in the chicken broth and bring to a boil, then reduce to a slow simmer. Cover and cook until the lamb is tender, about 1 hour. Stir in the squash and chickpeas and cook, covered, for 10 minutes.

3. Stir 3 tablespoons of the liquid into 2 tablespoons of flour to make a smooth paste. Stir the paste into the stew and cook until the broth thickens and the squash is tender, about 10 minutes longer. Add salt and pepper to taste. Divide among 4 bowls, with cilantro and serve.

Yield: 4 servings. CURRIED ROOT VEGETABLE STEW WITH

The stew: 1 1/2 teaspoons unsalted butter 1 small onion, peeled and chopped 3 cloves garlic, peeled and minced 1 1/2 teaspoons powder 4 cups vegetable broth 2 medium carrots, peeled, halved lengthwise, and cut into 1/2-inch lengths 2 large parsnips, peeled, thick end halved lengthwise, cut across into 1/8-inch thick slices 1 small root, trimmed, peeled and cut into 1/4-inch cubes 1 medium sweet , peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour 2 teaspoons salt Freshly ground pepper to taste 1 tablespoon chopped fresh Italian

The dumplings: 1 cup all-purpose flour 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder 3/4 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon ground mace 2 tablespoons cold unsalted butter 1/4 cup currants 6 tablespoons milk

1. To make the stew, melt the butter in a large pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 3 minutes. Stir in the garlic and curry powder and cook for 30 seconds. Stir in the broth, carrots and parsnips. Bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer. Cover and cook for 15 minutes. Stir in the celery root and sweet potato and cook for 10 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, to make the dumplings, combine the flour, baking powder, salt and mace in a bowl. Rub in the butter until mixture resembles coarse meal. Mix in the currants. Stir in the milk, just to combine. On a lightly floured surface, with floured hands, shape the dough into 1-inch balls. 3. Form a smooth paste by stirring 1/4 cup of the simmering broth into 3 tablespoons of flour, then stir it into the stew. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Place the dumplings on top of the simmering stew, cover and cook for 15 minutes. Divide the stew and dumplings among 4 bowls. Garnish with the parsley and serve.

Yield: 4 servings. DUCK AND GUMBO

1/4 cup plus 2 teaspoons vegetable oil 1 medium onion, peeled and chopped 1 green bell pepper, stemmed, cored and diced 2 ribs celery, diced 1/4 cup all-purpose flour 4 cups chicken broth, homemade or low-sodium canned 2 teaspoons dried 1 teaspoon dried oregano 1 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper 1/2 teaspoon salt 1 4-pound duck, cut into serving pieces and skinned 1 10-ounce box frozen cut okra 1 pound large shrimp, shelled and deveined

1. In a large pot over medium heat, heat 2 teaspoons of oil and cook the first three vegetables until soft, about 8 minutes. Scrape the mixture into a bowl and set aside. Heat the remaining 1/4 cup oil over medium-high heat until it begins to smoke. Gradually add the flour using a long-handled whisk (mixture will get very hot). Lower the heat slightly and cook, whisking constantly, until mixture turns a deep reddish brown color, about 7 minutes.

2. Remove from heat and gradually whisk in the chicken broth. Stir in the onion mixture, herbs, spices, pepper and salt. Add the duck and simmer slowly for 25 minutes, skimming off the foam. Stir in the okra and cook 5 minutes longer. Remove the pan from the heat. Remove the duck with tongs; when cool, pull the meat off the bones and cut into bite-size pieces.

3. Skim fat from the broth. Bring to a boil. Stir in the shrimp, immediately remove from the heat and let stand for 2 minutes. Stir in the duck meat and add salt and pepper to taste. Ladle over cooked white and serve.

Yield: 4 servings. What’s the Best ? One Made With the Proper

By MARK BITTMAN October 29, 1997

Clam chowder takes many guises: it can be complicated with or other strong or thickened with flour or loads of cream. But the best is a simple affair that has as its flavorful essence the juice of the clams themselves.

And as long as you begin with fresh clams, this juice is easily extracted and reserved; the minced clam meat, which remains tender, becomes a garnish.

As for added flavors, onion and garlic are welcome, although only the onion, I think, is essential. Diced potatoes add body to the . And I confess that I like finishing the chowder with a little cream — or at least milk — for both color and a certain silkiness.

Of course, what is actually “essential” in clam chowder is debatable: Manhattanites, in theory at least, prefer theirs with tomatoes. New Englanders, we assume, like it with cream. There is also clam chowder, which in spirit, at least, is closest to the minimalist ideal: it is made with clams, onion, celery, water, salt and pepper.

Geographical preferences no longer matter, especially if you are making clam chowder at home. The base for any chowder is the same, and the additions or omissions are entirely up to you.

Just be sure to begin with the right clams. The first choice is littlenecks, the smaller the better. But in fact any hard-shell clam —larger ones are called cherrystones or quahogs — will do, because they’re easy to clean and contain little if any sand inside. (Although the meat of the larger clams is tough, this is not a huge issue, because it will be diced.)

Cockles, which resemble small clams and can be found in some fish markets these days, are also good. In no case, however, should you use soft-shell clams, or steamers, which contain so much sand that some of it will inevitably find its way into your broth. When buying hard-shell clams, remember that live ones have tightly closed shells; reject any whose shells are open or cracked. Those that do not open fully during are perfectly fine; simply pry them open with a knife.

You Say Potato, I Say

Here are some simple variations:

Clam Chowder: add 1/2 cup or more of milk, cream or half-and-half along with the chopped clams.

— Manhattan Clam Chowder: add 1 cup peeled, seeded and diced tomatoes (canned are fine) to the steaming water.

— Rhode Island Clam Chowder: replace potatoes with 1/2 cup minced celery.

— Steam clams in white wine instead of water.

— Add 3 cloves of crushed garlic to the steaming water; discard them with the shells.

— Garnish chowder with minced parsley or other herbs. CLAM CHOWDER Total time: About 30 minutes

3 dozen littleneck clams (3 pounds or more), or an equivalent amount of other clams 1 medium onion, peeled and minced 2 large potatoes (about 1 pound), peeled and cut into 1/4-inch dice Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. Wash clams well, scrubbing if necessary to remove external grit. Place them in a pot with half-cup water, and turn heat to high. Steam, shaking pot occasionally, until most of the clams are open, 7 to 10 minutes. Use a slotted spoon to remove clams to a broad bowl; reserve cooking liquid.

2. When clams are cool enough to handle, shuck them over the bowl, catching every drop of their liquid; discard shells. If any clams remain closed, use a thin-bladed knife to pry them open (it will be easy).

3. Chop clams. Strain all liquid through a sieve lined with a paper towel or a couple of layers of cheesecloth. Measure liquid, and add enough water to make 3 1/2 cups.

4. Combine liquid with onion and potato in saucepan; cover, and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, keep covered, and cook until potatoes are tender, about 10 minutes. Stir in the clams, season with salt and pepper to taste, and serve.

Yield: 4 servings. Three Parts Make a Whole Soup

By MARK BITTMAN October 21, 1998

I always love it when I can apply a simple formula to a broad range of dishes. And it seldom works as well as it does with creamy vegetable soups.

The soups have three basic ingredients, and their proportions form a pyramid: three parts liquid, two parts vegetable, one part dairy.

The pyramid’s foundation is chicken (you can substitute vegetable stock or water, but the result will be somewhat less substantial). The middle section is any vegetable, or combination of vegetables, that will puree nicely and produce good body and flavor. The peak is cream, milk, or .

To make four servings, the pyramid works out to three cups stock, two cups vegetables and one cup dairy: six cups is the perfect amount of soup for four people. Aromatic vegetables, like onions, carrots, and celery, count as part of the vegetable portion, but like salt, pepper, herbs, spices, garlic or are additional, and pretty much to taste.

The procedure is nearly as straightforward as the formula: Simmer the vegetables in the stock until they’re quite tender. Puree in a blender, in batches if necessary (make sure the blender lid is on securely to avoid being scalded). Stir or blend in the dairy and seasonings, and reheat gently (especially gently if you’re using yogurt, which will curdle if it boils). It’s worth noting that these soups are also good cold.

There are shortcuts. Leftover cooked vegetables are super candidates for this soup. Rinse off any remnants of with hot water; then combine with stock, and puree.

If you think ahead, you can intentionally cook extra vegetables for just this purpose. Some vegetables, like winter squash, are so dense that they create their own creaminess, reducing the amount of dairy needed.

But these are matters of judgment, perhaps best left until after you’ve experimented within the basic rules. Keep the proportions in line. If there are too many vegetables, your blender won’t be able to puree the mixture; too much liquid will cut the flavor of the vegetable and thin the soup; too much dairy will reduce the intensity of flavor and make it too rich.

Always cook the vegetables until very tender, but no more than that. Spinach is tender in a couple of minutes; potatoes, even cut into chunks, will require 15. Almost nothing will take longer than that. Cover the pot while the vegetables cook to prevent too much of the stock from evaporating.

Seasonings that require cooking, like onion, should be added with the vegetables. But those that do not, like herbs and spices, are best added before reheating the mixture so they retain their freshness.

And there’s obviously a difference in the amount of richness added to the soup by cream, sour cream, yogurt or milk. So, stir in the dairy element gradually by hand after pureeing, and adjust the consistency as you like. CREAMY BROCCOLI SOUP Total time: 20 minutes

2 cups broccoli florets and peeled stems cut into chunks 3 cups chicken stock 1 clove garlic, peeled and cut in half 1 cup milk, cream or yogurt Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Combine the broccoli and the stock in a saucepan. Simmer, covered, until the broccoli is tender, about 10 minutes. During the last minute or so of cooking, add the garlic (this cooks the garlic just enough to remove its raw taste).

2. Puree in a blender, in batches if necessary, until very smooth. Stir in the milk, cream or yogurt, and reheat gently; do not boil. Season to taste, and serve.

Yield: 4 servings.

Variations: The possible combinations for this kind of soup border on the infinite. Here are some suggestions for different vegetables to simmer in the stock:

* Potato and onion. Use 1 cup each potato and onion (or leek). Omit the garlic, and garnish with parsley, dill or chives.

* Spinach. Start with 10 to 16 ounces of leaves (remove thick stems). Cook quickly, adding a clove of garlic if you like.

* Turnip and parsnip or turnip and potato. Cook with a small onion and 1 teaspoon of fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme).

* . Nice with a pinch of cayenne pepper and a teaspoon or more of minced ginger, added, like the garlic, during the last minute of cooking.

* Celery or fennel. Cook 3 or 4 cloves of garlic along with the vegetable. A Creamy Soup With No Cream

By MARK BITTMAN January 26, 2000

Not all soups need to start with stock to taste rich and full. Chickpeas, more than any other , exude so much flavor into plain water as they cook that they can almost make a soup on their own. Garlic, herbs and a few aromatic vegetables add another dimension, but the trick to a superb soup is even simpler: puree some of the cooked chickpeas, stir them back in, and the soup becomes sublimely if deceptively creamy.

This is a wonderful vegetarian soup, but it can be easily turned into a meatier meal by adding either leftover chicken, beef, or lamb or something cooked especially for the soup, like pan-grilled , shrimp or more vegetables. made with olive oil are also a good addition.

Probably the most obvious question about this is whether it will work with canned chickpeas. The answer is, yes — within limits. The liquid in which most canned chickpeas are packed is not the light, flavorful broth that results from simmering the at home, but instead is a heavy substance whose flavor is mysterious at best. Canned chickpeas should be rinsed before using; they can then be combined with water or, better still, chicken or vegetable stock before simmering with the other seasonings.

Chickpeas can be cooked without being soaked, but they will cook more quickly if they are soaked 6 to 12 hours. Either way, the cooking time is unpredictable, depending largely on how much moisture the chickpeas have lost in storage (older , being drier, require longer cooking). Soaked chickpeas will take about an hour and a half to turn tender; dry ones, 30 minutes longer. SOUP WITH SAUSAGE Total time: About 2 hours, plus overnight soaking

1 1/2 cups chickpeas, soaked overnight in water to cover if time allows 5 cloves garlic, peeled and sliced 3 sprigs rosemary or thyme 1 medium to large carrot, peeled and diced small 1 celery stalk, peeled and diced small 1 medium onion, peeled and diced small Salt and freshly ground black pepper 1/2 pound sausage, grilled or broiled, thinly sliced 1 teaspoon minced garlic 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil, or to taste

1. Combine chickpeas, sliced garlic and rosemary or thyme in a large saucepan with fresh water to cover by at least 2 inches. Bring to a boil, lower heat and simmer, partly covered, for at least 1 hour, or until chickpeas are fairly tender. Add additional water if necessary, and skim any foam that rises to the surface.

2. Scoop out herbs and add carrot, celery, onion, salt and pepper. Continue to cook until chickpeas and vegetables are soft, at least 20 minutes longer. Remove about half the chickpeas and vegetables, and carefully puree in a blender, adding cooking liquid as needed.

3. Return the puree to the pot, and stir; add the minced garlic and sausage, and reheat, adding more water if the mixture is too thick. Taste, adjust seasoning and serve, drizzled with the olive oil.

Yield: 4 servings.

Variation: To use canned chickpeas, drain and rinse 4 cups and combine with 6 cups chicken or vegetable stock and the vegetables as in Step 1. Cook until the vegetables are tender, then proceed as above. The Gumbo Variations: To Each His Own

By MATT LEE and TED LEE November 29, 2000

Gumbo should be as straightforward and approachable as its name. But something about the spicy Creole soup seems rigid and intimidating. Whenever we mentioned gumbo in a group of food lovers we heard cryptic warnings:

“If you make it right, it’s the most expensive dish you’ll ever make.”

“If you don’t let it sit for three days, it’s not gumbo.”

“It’s all about your .”

“You can’t make a little bit of gumbo, so don’t even attempt it.”

Gloomy advice like that tends to induce kitchen cramp, the cook’s version of writer’s block, so we were thrilled to attend a gumbo “duel” at the Southern Foodways Symposium in Oxford, Miss., not so long ago where two competitors’ were so wildly different that the mere suggestion of competition seemed downright unsportsmanlike. In a leafy grove, competitors ladled out their finest gumbo to 120 restaurant critics, chefs, culinary historians and plain old eaters, who voted by applause.

Here were stews that had in common only the white bowls in which they were served.

Leah Chase, the and owner of Dooky Chase in New Orleans, served a superb traditional Creole gumbo, a rich, smoky full of good things: shrimp, chicken wings, crab legs, sausage, hunks of beef brisket.

Fritz Blank, the chef and owner of Deux Cheminees in Philadelphia, ladled out a tribute to his city’s pepper pot, a gumbo with all the fundamentals of Ms. Chase’s: a thick soup with gentle spice and heat, textured by a variety of .

But where Ms. Chase’s soup was a brackish, silky broth thickened with roux and file powder, Mr. Blank’s was jack-o’-lantern orange and velvety, thickened by a puree of rice, leeks and butternut squash. Ms. Chase’s gumbo got its pep from paprika and hot sausage, Mr. Blank’s from ginger and habanero chili.

Both gumbos were deeply complex, wildly exotic and perfectly balanced all at once: alternatingly briny, hot, savory and sweet elements mingled to mesmerizing effect, producing a slightly mysterious, almost spiritual pull that made us reach for spoonful after spoonful.

But if it seemed like food made by gods, both chefs’ advice would inspire any cook who’s been scared off by gumbo.

“You can do what you like to gumbo,” Leah Chase told us after the duel. “The other day I made one with quail and sausage for a group of hunters.”

Fritz Blank was just as reassuring. “Gumbo’s like ,” he told us. “Everyone makes it differently.”

Though there’s little mystery to what makes gumbo tasty, its mystique may persist simply because even the quickest gumbos invite long opportunities to meditate, to peer into the pot and wonder what’s going on beneath the tumultuous surface. Gumbo’s links to the spiritual world are hard to break.

Ms. Chase tells a story about giving a dinner in 1942 for a group of Tuskegee Airmen who steadfastly refused to eat the gumbo she and a friend had prepared because they feared the file she put in the pot was a voodoo powder intended to ensnare the men. “One of the men was telling the others, ‘Don’t eat the gumbo! If you eat that gumbo, you’ll never leave New Orleans.’ “

The simplest definition of gumbo is a soup made by simmering meats, , vegetables and spices in a thickened stock. Usually it’s served over rice. But over the centuries it has taken on the same aura associated with biscuits and pie crust: homey and simple, but not easy to execute.

The one thing that really defines it, though, is the way it is thickened. Gumbo is much denser than a simple soup; the broth has a thick, almost viscous consistency. And that characteristic is most commonly created by making a roux, cooking flour and oil together until they thicken and darken. Otherwise, gumbo can be thickened with file, which is just powdered dried sassafras leaves. Or it can be thickened with okra, which adds a brambly flavor along with a mucilaginous substance. (The name gumbo comes from the Bantu word for okra.)

Roux, okra and file powder are the of gumbo, and it is in them that most of the gumbo partisanship is vested. Families throughout the South can be arranged more or less along the three lines, though many will use a combination.

The mythic roux not only thickens but also broadens and enhances the stewed flavors of the gumbo. To Frank Brigtsen, of Brigtsen’s in New Orleans, “a good roux has a deep, nutty taste like roasted or pecans that marries with the stock to give gumbo its flavor.”

Creole cooks in usually prepare some variation of three basic : a “Creole gumbo” that includes , beef, , , chicken, whole crabs or shrimp and is thickened with roux and file powder; a simpler “okra gumbo” thickened with okra and including a variety of ; and a “gumbo aux herbes” (or gumbo z’herbes), made with as many as 10 varieties of greens and traditionally served during Lent.

All American gumbos trace their origins to a melding of cultures in the 17th and 18th centuries, when the settlement of the Louisiana Territory and frenetic trade across the Atlantic brought Spanish, French Acadian, Portuguese, African, West Indian and Native American into a fortuitous collision. Rich Spanish fish stews, African okra, American sassafras and hot peppers from Jamaica all became core elements in a new American dish, whose murky depth, evoking sea, land and spice, always retains a sense of the exotic.

Though Cajun and Creole cultures have nourished the gumbo tradition over the years, gumbo evolved into more than a few variations as it throughout the Eastern United States. In Philadelphia, pepper pots like Mr. Blank’s, without roux or file, but with peppery heat, or turtle and sometimes dumplings, are attributable to the city’s large 18th-century population of West Indians. In the Carolinas, the word gumbo conjures the aroma of shrimp, crab and okra simmering together.

Knowing all that, and emboldened by Leah Chase and Fritz Blank, we set out to make our own version of gumbo. Since making it is, in essence, the creation of a flavorful stock, many gumbo recipes simply begin with water. But if you have the time to prepare it, a rich stock made with one of the ingredients in the gumbo can add a more robust flavor. After reserving the meat from the duck we roasted for a gumbo, we threw the carcass into a stockpot with a few bay leaves, added water and simmered it for an hour. For a gumbo that called for peeled shrimp, we reserved the shells and heads and simmered them with celery and onion.

If you don’t have time to make a stock, you can give gumbo a sweet, briny character by adding a couple of cleaned hard-shell crabs to the pot. And of course, you can save real time by using canned broth.

As for the thickening, the truth is, any gently flavored works well, including yellow potato, sweet potato and pureed rice.

A pinch of file powder on the tongue tastes like green tea, but in the amounts in which it’s commonly added to a gumbo — a tablespoon per gallon — its flavor remains more a matter of faith and speculation. File is added only after the flame has been turned off, so if you find your soup too thin at the end of the simmer, add some file. If you prefer a thinner, brothier gumbo, just leave it out. File can be found in specialty stores and by mail.

Okra has an almost slimy quality, referred to as ropiness, but it can be easily cooked out, by sauteing it in a small amount of butter or oil, over a low flame, and stirring constantly until the okra is dry. It browns nicely, with a pleasant roastiness.

Chefs like Steve Manning at Bayou in Harlem make roux in large quantities and stir it, spoonful by spoonful, into a hot gumbo stock until the soup reaches the desired consistency. But you can also use the hot roux like fat, sauteing the vegetables and herbs in it to bring out their flavor before adding them to the pot.

Peanut and vegetable oils are most commonly used for roux, because their points are higher than those of butter and lard. But you can choose your fat according to cost, taste or inspiration (use the fat from the roasted duck if you’re preparing a duck gumbo).

To make a roux, measure out roughly even quantities of fat and flour. Heat the fat over a low flame three or four minutes, then add the flour and whisk the mixture continuously for the next 30 to 45 minutes to avoid burning the flour (a scorched roux makes a gumbo taste bitter, and must be discarded). Roux can range in color from a blond, condensed-milk white to burnished, toasty brown, depending on how long you cook it. Gumbo cooks tend to use a roux that is a shade somewhere between butter and dark .

Mr. Brigtsen uses a milk-chocolate-colored roux in two gumbos, one made with , the other with seafood and okra. The darker the roux, the more toasty the flavor tends to be, but as a roux darkens, its thickening properties decrease; for that reason, some gumbo cooks prefer to use a more golden roux.

The meats that flavor and add hearty texture to a gumbo require some premeditation, to ensure that each element is properly cooked without overcooking. The most delicious gumbos we tasted, in trying different recipes, combined as many textures as there were flavors, from the most tender threads of to the resilient crunch of shrimp to the chewy morsel of veal.

Subtly flavored seafood, like crab meat, shrimp and , requires a more delicate touch. Add it close to the time you turn off the flame. Toss in the shrimp 5 to 10 minutes before the flame is turned off, and oysters and crab meat only at the moment. In a gumbo that includes both oysters and tomatoes, the oysters should be added shortly before the gumbo hits the table, as they will react with the acid in tomatoes if allowed to steep for longer than an hour.

At the Shoebox Cafe in Grand Central Terminal, Alexander Smalls’s spicy roux-and- okra-thickened gumbo is textured by corn, finely diced green and red bell peppers, chicken and oysters. The okra is cut lengthwise, into strips instead of the common rounds, and a mound of rice is piled in the center of the bowl. Along one side of the rice, six steamed shrimp are added as a garnish, cool, sweet, and unadorned, a nice counterpoint to the soup’s spicy heat.

A similar shrimp and okra gumbo gets more traditional treatment at Bayou, in Harlem, with rounds of okra and shrimp bathed in rich brown roux-thickened soup. Mr. Manning, who spent 20 years as a chef in New Orleans, said, “It’s a classic deathbed recipe,” given to him by a friend whose grandmother, a New Orleans native, passed it on to her grandchildren before she died.

That’s one way to get a great gumbo. But making it up from scratch isn’t all wrong, either. After all, the gumbo duel in Mississippi was not settled with a clear winner. Each competitor received such resounding, sustained applause that the moderator had to call it a draw. DUCK GUMBO Adapted from Bayou Total time: 3 hours

1/4 teaspoon cayenne 3/4 teaspoon ground black pepper 2 1/2 teaspoons paprika 1 teaspoon kosher salt 1 5-pound duck 1 medium Spanish onion, in 1/2-inch dice 1 carrot, in 1/2-inch dice 3 celery stalks, in 1/2-inch dice 1/2 cup flour 1/2 cup canola oil 2 quarts chicken broth 1 large red bell pepper, in 1/4-inch dice 1 large green bell pepper, in medium dice 3 cloves garlic, minced 1 small carrot, chopped fine 1 bunch chopped scallions 1 tablespoon chopped parsley Juice of 1/2 lemon 1/4 teaspoon ground allspice 1 teaspoon dried oregano 1 teaspoon dried thyme 3 bay leaves 4 tablespoons tomato paste 3 cups okra, sliced

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Combine cayenne, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, 1/2 teaspoon paprika and salt, and sprinkle liberally over duck. Arrange dice of onion, carrot and 1 stalk celery in a pan. Place duck on a rack in pan. Roast 1 1/2 hours.

2. Whisk flour and oil together in a heavy-bottomed pot, and simmer over low to moderate heat, whisking constantly, until mixture turns chocolate brown, about 45 minutes. Set aside. 3. Remove duck meat from bones, and reserve. Place carcass and bones in a 6-quart stockpot. Pour off all but 2 tablespoons fat from roasting pan. Add broth and 1 quart water to pot, and simmer 1 hour.

4. Heat 1 tablespoon duck fat in a large skillet over medium heat. Add peppers, remaining celery, garlic, carrot, scallions, parsley, lemon juice, remaining paprika, allspice, remaining pepper, oregano, thyme and bay leaves. Saute until soft, about 8 minutes. Stir in tomato paste.

5. Strain stock into a large pot, and add water to make 12 cups liquid. Bring to a boil, and vigorously whisk in roux a spoonful at a time until liquid thickens. Add vegetable mixture. Simmer 30 minutes.

6. Wipe the large skillet, and heat remaining duck fat over low heat. Fry okra gently for 15 to 20 minutes, turning often to avoid scorching. Add to pot with duck meat, and simmer 20 minutes. Serve over rice.

Yield: 6 to 8 servings. CREOLE GUMBO Adapted from “The Dooky Chase ” Total time: 2 1/2 hours

1 pound medium head-on shrimp 4 hard crabs, cleaned and split in two 1/2 pound smoked sausage, diced 1/2 pound hot sausage, diced 1/2 pound beef brisket or lean veal stew meat 1/2 pound chicken gizzards 1/2 cup canola oil 1/2 cup flour 1 large onion, chopped 6 chicken wings, split 1/2 pound smoked ham, cubed 2 teaspoons paprika 3 cloves garlic, minced 1 teaspoon dried thyme 3 bay leaves 1 teaspoon salt 24 shucked oysters with liquor 1 tablespoon file powder 1/2 cup chopped parsley

1. Peel and devein shrimp. Place heads and shells in stockpot with 12 cups water, and simmer over low heat until needed.

2. In a 6-quart stockpot, combine crabs, sausages, beef or stew meat and gizzards; cook, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching, over low flame for 30 minutes.

3. In a heavy-bottomed saute pan, whisk oil and flour together over low to moderate heat, and cook, whisking constantly until golden brown, about 20 minutes. Add onions, and cook, stirring, until soft. Pour mixture into pot with meats, and stir gently until well combined. Strain shrimp stock. Add to pot with enough water to make 14 cups liquid. Bring to a boil. Add chicken wings, smoked ham, paprika, garlic, thyme, bay leaves and salt, and simmer 30 minutes. Add peeled shrimp, and simmer 10 minutes. Add oysters, and turn off heat. Stir in file. Serve over rice, and garnish with fresh parsley. Yield: 6 to 8 servings. QUICK GUMBO Total time: 1 hour, 15 minutes

1 pound medium shrimp 2 stalks celery, chopped 3 bay leaves 4 tablespoons olive oil 3 cups okra, sliced 4 cloves garlic, minced 1 large onion, diced 1 large bell pepper, diced 1 28-ounce can tomatoes, drained and coarsely chopped 1 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon cayenne 1/2 teaspoon black pepper 1 teaspoon dried thyme 1 pound lump and/or backfin crab meat 24 shucked oysters, with liquor.

1. Peel and devein shrimp, reserving heads and shells in a 6-quart stockpot. Add 12 cups water, 1 stalk celery and bay leaves, and simmer 30 minutes over medium heat.

2. Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a large skillet, and saute okra over gentle heat, stirring continuously, until dry, about 20 minutes.

3. In another large skillet, heat remaining oil, and saute remaining vegetables with salt, cayenne and pepper until soft. Strain stock into clean pot, add vegetable mixture with thyme and simmer 30 minutes. Add shrimp, and simmer 10 minutes. Turn off flame. Add crab meat and oysters. Season with cayenne and pepper. Wait at least 5 minutes before serving over rice.

Yield: 6 to 8 servings. PEPPER POT WITH SHELLFISH AND SQUASH Adapted from Fritz Blank Total time: 2 hours

3 quarts chicken stock 1 bottle white wine 1 stick unsalted butter 3 cups sliced leeks (white part only) 2 butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut in 1-inch cubes 1 cup rice 2 tablespoons grated fresh ginger 2 teaspoons minced habaneros 2 heaping tablespoons tomato paste 1 cup heavy cream 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg 1 pound veal, poached and cubed 1/2 pound peeled shrimp 1/2 pound bay 1 cup shucked oysters Salt and pepper to taste

1. In a large stockpot, simmer chicken stock and wine for 5 minutes.

2. In a large skillet, melt butter and saute leeks until softened. Transfer to pot with squash, rice, ginger, habanero and tomato paste, and bring to a boil. Lower heat, and simmer 40 minutes.

3. Puree soup in blender or food processor in batches, then return to pot. Add cream and nutmeg, then veal and shellfish. Bring to a boil just to cook shellfish. Season with salt and pepper to taste, and serve.

Yield: 6 to 8 servings. Feeding the Starving Beast Within

By MARIAN BURROS December 18, 2002

Right in the middle of the season for fattening ourselves for the long, hard winter ahead, as if we were wolves or bears, an obesity specialist in Washington says we can make it easier to stop pigging out or we can make it harder. Naturally, many of us make it harder.

Unlike those who are always exhorting dieters to use willpower, Dr. C. Wayne Callaway, an endocrinologist and weight specialist at George Washington University, says that it is not really a matter of willpower. Or at least not willpower alone.

“Sure it’s nice to have willpower and eat less and exercise more,” Dr. Callaway said, but many people undermine their good intentions by failing to understand their bodies.

It seems logical that if you are expecting to eat a lot at a party at night, you ought to cut back on breakfast and . You could starve all day and splurge on drinks and desserts, right? Wrong.

“The optimal thing is to have a regular breakfast and lunch,” Dr. Callaway said, “so that when you sit down and eat you are not fighting genetically ingrained signals that cause your brain to get hungry after a meal.”

Because of chemical changes that take place in the body after the first meal of the day, if you skip breakfast or skimp on it you will end up compensating later, he said. “Any time you undereat, you will eat the ordinary amount at the next meal, but shortly thereafter you will have the urge to keep on eating,” Dr. Callaway said.

Humans, like animals, have a mechanism to help them compensate when food is in short supply. Our distant ancestors probably did not have a proper breakfast when they woke up in their caves, so they gorged whenever they made a kill. Even though there aren’t many of us scratching out a living in the forest anymore, our brains are still wired for that potentially life-saving response to undereating.

Dr. Callaway explained: “In our world, when we try to skip or undereat, we are actually setting ourselves up for brain activity that produces an urge to eat that isn’t satisfied by eating. It is not associated with an empty stomach. So the best thing to do is have regular meals and then you can enjoy the dessert without having three pieces.”

Dr. Callaway added, “It’s a lot easier to use willpower when you don’t have that compensatory mechanism kicking in.” Basically, our brains know how to prevent us from starving but not from getting fat. Wouldn’t you know.

For the person who isn’t overweight, overeating at holiday parties doesn’t matter much. But for those who have a tendency to gain weight, it can send them down the road to ruin.

Temptations abound this month. Sweets and savories are often part of the holidays, even at the office, turning dedicated workers into grazers. “People who graze do not get the clear signals that they get at the end of a meal,” Dr. Callaway said. So grazing often means eating more.

Another frequent trouble spot at holiday parties, increased consumption of alcohol, also contributes to weight gain in three different ways.

Alcohol, of course, adds calories. It also makes it even more difficult to exercise willpower. And when the is working to metabolize more than a moderate amount of alcohol — defined as two glasses of wine or beer for a man and one for a woman — its ability to make sugar is reduced. It makes fat instead.

“If you have several drinks a night for six weeks,” Dr. Callaway said, “you will increase your interabdominal fat because the liver is making fat instead of burning it.” Nice thought.

So if you don’t want to store fat this season, Dr. Callaway recommends eating an adequate breakfast and lunch, limiting the alcohol and having a bowl of healthful soup before the rest of the meal.

Because, he said, Auguste Escoffier was right. “Soup calms down the violence of hunger.”

You could start with my mother’s mushroom barley soup.

The taste of this soup begins with the stock; the better it tastes, the better everything else will taste. High-quality beef stock is available at many specialty markets, rich and full bodied without being salted to a fare-thee-well.

It’s not traditional, but adding wine vinegar to the soup gives it a sparkle. MUSHROOM BARLEY SOUP Total time: About 1 hour

1/3 cup dried mushrooms like porcini 2 tablespoons oil 1 medium onion, diced 1 medium carrot, diced 2 cloves garlic, minced 1/2 pound white mushrooms, washed, trimmed and coarsely cut 1/2 pound shiitake, cremini, portobello or other mushrooms, washed, trimmed and coarsely cut 1/2 cup pearled barley 6 cups no-salt-added beef broth or stock 3 tablespoons dry sherry Salt and pepper to taste 1 tablespoon wine vinegar

1. Cover dried mushrooms with 1 cup hot water, and set aside for 20 minutes. Drain, reserving liquid. Finely chop mushrooms.

2. Heat oil in heavy-bottomed deep pot. Sauté onions and carrots over medium heat until onions begin to color. Add garlic, and sauté for 30 seconds.

3. Add fresh mushrooms, and sauté for 5 minutes, until they begin to release liquid.

4. Raise heat and add barley; sauté until it begins to color. Add broth and sherry. Strain mushroom-soaking liquid and add to pot along with reconstituted mushrooms. Season with salt and pepper, and simmer for about 40 minutes, until barley is tender. Stir in vinegar; adjust seasonings and serve.

Yield: About 6 cups. In January, Comfort Comes On the Stove or in a Bowl

By January 21, 2004

It has never been my practice to concentrate on any one ingredient or foodstuff. Somehow, it would seem like giving a class rather than suggesting a real meal.

Now, I might as well confess that all the recipes here are for soup, but there is justification for it.

There are variations in the ingredients in soups, of course, but also in the way soups are eaten. Soups have such different characters. The sort you make by putting a few ingredients into a pan and then into a blender for a quick and easy supper, like the effortless soup here, is very different from the clear and light , which in turn has little in common with the and frankfurter soup, itself the best plain but wintry main course imaginable.

At this time of year, it can feel as good to have a stockpot of hot soup on the stove as it is to eat a bowl of it. Something simple and warming is just the food you want when someone in the house is feeling below par. Even when I am busy, I love making soup. You just chuck a few ingredients in a pan, add liquid and let it bubble. Nor does soup call for exactitude in measuring ingredients: this is not a precision art.

One of my regular near-instant meals is , which I make by tossing sliced scallions in a little garlic-infused oil (or using regular olive oil and mincing a clove of garlic into it) and then by adding from the freezer.

Once they have warmed a little, add some broth and let everything cook for 10 minutes or so before blending it all with freshly grated Parmesan or Cheddar.

You can add to this as you like: if you have bacon, chop two or so slices into the pan along with the scallions. If, like me, you often have dried-out Parmesan rinds lingering in the fridge, add one to the broth. (Remove the rind before putting the soup in the blender.) You can be even fancier by adding ground cumin to the scallions and some and a spritz of juice at the end when blending. But the best thing about this soup is the fact that it is made from ingredients that can be kept on standby.

The tom yum soup is about as different in character and content from the others as you can get, though it is not much more effort to make. The greatest part of the labor is shopping, for you are unlikely to have the ingredients on hand. Still, once you have gone out for tom yum paste, lime leaves, lemon grass, fish sauce and shrimp, you are really only about five minutes from a sinus-clearing, light but sustaining supper.

This is pretty much a Thai version of the more familiar Chinese . You can make it as mild as you like, but the version here is emphatically heat-giving.

My favorite soup, yellow split pea and frankfurter, is more comforting to eat than you can imagine, providing ballast and warmth for icy days and nights. I often forgo the frankfurters and just wallow in golden, grainy bowls full.

It takes a good hour to make, but requires very little effort. Into a large pan goes some oil, followed by chopped garlic, carrot and celery (I use a processor and really pulp them) and then a pinch of mace and just about two full cups of yellow split peas. Then I add bay leaves and chicken or vegetable broth.

I find mace to be the key here, though if you do not have any at hand add a little grated nutmeg toward the end of the cooking time. The split peas cook to a grainy purée, so there is no blending required. You can make vats of the stuff, reheating just enough for a bowl when you want it. With a little water added, it thickens enormously on standing. And believe me, you will want it. I could not get through January without it. TOM YUM SOUP Total time: 10 minutes

3 cups chicken stock or broth 1 scant tablespoon tom yum paste (available in Asian markets and speciality stores) 2 fresh kaffir lime leaves, finely chopped 1 stalk lemon grass, tender inner part only, roughly chopped Juice of half a lime 2 tablespoons fish sauce 1 small red Thai chili, finely chopped 1/2 teaspoon sugar 2 ounces enoki mushrooms, trimmed, or 1 cup button mushrooms, sliced 8 ounces raw shrimp, peeled 2 scallions, cut into short lengths and then into strips 2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro

1. In a medium saucepan, combine chicken stock, tom yum paste, kaffir lime leaves, lemon grass, lime juice and fish sauce. Add chili and sugar, and stir.

2. Place over high heat to bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium low. Add mushrooms, and simmer 1 to 2 minutes. Add shrimp and scallions, and simmer until shrimp is barely opaque, 2 to 3 more minutes.

3. To serve, divide soup between two bowls. Garnish each with 1 tablespoon cilantro, and serve.

Yield: 2 servings. EASY PEA SOUP Total time: 15 minutes

1 tablespoon garlic-infused oil 2 scallions, finely sliced 4 cups (two 10-ounce packages) frozen peas Chicken or vegetable stock concentrate (powder, paste or cube) 2 to 3 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese

1. Place a saucepan over medium-low heat, and add oil and scallions. Stir until heated, then add frozen peas. Stir well with a wooden spoon.

2. Add 3 cups water and stock concentrate to taste. Cover, and cook at a lively simmer until peas are tender, 5 to 10 minutes. Remove from heat, and allow to cool until no longer steaming.

3. Transfer soup to a blender. Add cheese, and purée until mixture is very smooth. Serve immediately or, if desired, reheat to taste.

Yield: 2 to 4 servings. YELLOW SPLIT PEA AND FRANKFURTER SOUP Total time: 1 hour 15 minutes

1 onion, peeled and cut into chunks 1 carrot, peeled and cut into chunks 1 stalk celery, cut into chunks 1 clove garlic, peeled 2 to 3 tablespoons vegetable oil 1/2 teaspoon ground mace 2 1/4 cups (1 pound) yellow split peas, rinsed 4 cups chicken or vegetable stock (may be made from concentrate), more as needed 2 bay leaves Approximately 8 frankfurters, cut into 1-inch pieces

1. In a food processor, combine onion, carrot, celery and garlic. Process until finely chopped.

2. Place a heavy, wide saucepan over medium heat, and add oil. When hot, add chopped vegetables, and sauté until soft but not colored, 5 to 10 minutes. Stir in mace. Add split peas, and stir to mix well.

3. Add 4 cups stock and the bay leaves, and bring to a boil. Cover, and reduce heat to low. Simmer until peas are very soft, about 1 hour. Stir soup with a wooden spoon. If desired, adjust thickness of soup with additional stock.

4. Add frankfurter pieces to soup, and simmer until well heated. Ladle into bowls and serve. (Alternatively, soup may be ladled into bowls and frankfurter pieces heated in a , and added to each bowl as desired.)

Yield: 6 to 8 servings. A Simple Broth With a Mild Kick

By MARTHA ROSE SHULMAN December 1, 2008

According to a Provençal saying, “Garlic soup is a life saver.” This simple broth, made by simmering crushed garlic cloves in water with sage or other herbs, is recommended as a cure for ailments as varied as hangovers, stomach ailments and colds. I think of it as dinner instead of a cure, and it is convenient especially if I haven’t gone to the market in a few days or if I’m feeling under the weather. I’ve collected many renditions of garlic soup in my travels throughout the Mediterranean and Mexico, and I’ve developed some of my own versions at home. I’ll share four of those recipes this week, along with the broth offered here, which makes a soothing vegetarian alternative to chicken stock.

Garlic has been known for its therapeutic benefits since ancient times. Studies have linked it to lower cholesterol, serum triglyceride levels and blood pressure. Sulfur- containing compounds including allicin, which give garlic its pungency, along with high levels of vitamin C, vitamin B6, manganese and selenium seem to be responsible for garlic’s beneficial cardiovascular effects. Allicin helps to prevent platelets in the blood from sticking together and is also a powerful antibacterial and antiviral agent that may be useful in weight control. GARLIC BROTH

Whole cloves of garlic, uncut and simmered gently for an hour with aromatics, yield a mild, sweet tasting, comforting broth. According to Johnny Bowden, a nutritionist, garlic needs to be crushed, sliced or chopped for its health-boosting compounds to be released. For this broth, I just crush the cloves lightly by leaning on them with the flat side of my knife; the less crushed they are, the milder the broth will taste.

2 heads garlic 2 quarts water 1 tablespoon olive oil A made with a bay leaf, a couple of sprigs each of thyme and parsley and a fresh sage leaf Salt to taste

1. Bring a medium saucepan full of water to a boil. Fill a bowl with ice and water. Separate the head of garlic into cloves and drop them into the boiling water. Blanch for 30 seconds, then transfer to the ice water. Allow to cool for a few minutes, then drain and remove the skins from the garlic cloves. They should be loose and easy to remove. Lightly crush the cloves by pressing on them with the flat side of a chef’s knife.

2. Place the garlic cloves in a large saucepan with the remaining ingredients and bring to a gentle boil. Reduce the heat, cover and simmer 1 hour. Strain. Taste and adjust salt as desired.

Yield: 2 quarts

Advance preparation: This can be made a day ahead and freezes well. But it’s at its best if it is eaten the same day it is made. GARLIC SOUP WITH POTATOES AND BROCCOLI

Garlic soup makes a soothing, satisfying meal and is a dish that you can turn to when you think your cupboards are bare. The classic Provençal version of this soup is made with little more than water, whole crushed garlic cloves, salt and olive oil; this version is more substantial and has a bit more flavor from the minced garlic.

7 cups water, chicken stock, or vegetable stock 4 plump garlic cloves, minced or put through a press A bouquet garni made with a bay leaf and a few sprigs each parsley and thyme, tied together Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste 3/4 pound Yukon gold or white rose potatoes, peeled if desired and cut in 1/2-inch dice 1/2 pound broccoli florets, broken up into small flowers 2 , beaten 2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley 2 to 3 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan

1. Bring the water or stock to a simmer in a large saucepan or soup pot. Add the minced garlic, the bouquet garni, salt and pepper, and the potatoes, cover and simmer for 15 minutes, until the potatoes are tender and the broth fragrant.

2. Add the broccoli and simmer uncovered for another 5 to 8 minutes, until the broccoli is tender.

3. Taste the soup and adjust seasonings, making sure that you have added enough salt (the flavors should be vivid). Beat the eggs in a bowl. Remove a ladleful of the soup and whisk it into the eggs to temper them. Turn the heat off under the soup, and stir in the egg mixture. The eggs should cloud the soup but they shouldn’t scramble. Stir in the parsley and serve, topping each bowl with grated Parmesan.

Yield: 4 servings.

Advance preparation: You can make the soup through Step 1 several hours ahead. Bring back to a simmer and proceed with Step 2.

Variations: Substitute 1 cup , such as elbow , shells, fusilli, or broken , for the potatoes. Simmer for 5 minutes before adding the broccoli, and proceed with the recipe.

Add one or two garlic croutons to each bowl ( slices of and rub with a cut clove of garlic)

*Substitute other green vegetables, such as green beans, peas, or chopped greens, for the broccoli. Vegetable Soups Ideal for Late Winter

By MARTHA ROSE SHULMAN March 16, 2009

Vegetable soups are a great way to incorporate into our diets some of those three to five daily servings of vegetables that the U.S. Department of Agriculture recommends. Finding a variety of vegetables is particularly challenging at this time of year in many parts of the country, where the farmers’ markets are often bare despite the fact that the calendar says it’s spring. Still, it’s easy to make delicious combinations of onions, garlic, carrots, celery, turnips and canned tomatoes, all vegetables that are easy to keep on hand even in the depths of winter.

I’m convinced that one of the reasons the French diet is such a healthy one, despite the butter and cheese, is that dinner in France is so often a simple made with whatever ingredients are fresh. Soups fill you up, they’re comforting, and they offer a lot of concentrated nutrition in a bowl at a reasonable cost, both caloric and monetary. They’re simple to make and forgiving.

Despite the fact that chefs use the chicken stock made daily, I’ve never met a French homemaker who did so. Water will be just fine for this week’s offerings. SPANISH VEGETABLE SOUP WITH CHICKPEAS AND CHARD

This thick meal brims with vegetables. The tang comes from a spoonful of vinegar that is tossed with toasted bread and added to the soup at the end of cooking.

1 1/2 cups chickpeas, washed, picked over, and soaked for six hours or overnight in 1 quart water Salt, preferably kosher salt, to taste 4 1/2-inch thick slices baguette 3 to 4 garlic cloves, 1 cut in half, the rest minced 1 1/2 tablespoons sherry vinegar 2 tablespoons olive oil 1 medium onion, chopped 1/2 pound carrots, peeled and diced 2 teaspoons sweet paprika 1 (28-ounce) can chopped tomatoes, with liquid 1/2 pound turnips, peeled and diced 2 cups shredded 3/4 pound Swiss chard, stemmed, washed and chopped 1/4 cup finely chopped flat leaf parsley leaves Pinch of threads

1. Drain the chickpeas and combine with 1 1/2 quarts fresh water in a large saucepan. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, add salt to taste, cover and simmer 1 to 1 1/2 hours, until tender.

2. Toast the bread until golden. Remove from the heat and rub with the cut clove of garlic, then tear the bread into smaller pieces. Place in a small bowl, and douse with the vinegar. Toss in the bowl, and set aside.

3. Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a heavy soup, and add the onion and carrots. Cook, stirring, until the onion is tender, about five minutes. Add 1/2 teaspoon salt, half the garlic and all the paprika, and stir together for a minute. Add the tomatoes and cook, stirring often until the tomatoes cook down and thicken, 10 to 15 minutes.

4. Add the chickpeas with their liquid, the turnips, cabbage and 2 1/2 cups water. Bring to a boil, add salt to taste, reduce the heat to low, and cook until the turnips are tender, about 20 minutes. Stir in the chard and the remaining garlic, and simmer another 10 minutes. Add lots of pepper, taste and adjust salt.

5. Add the parsley, bread and saffron. Stir, turn off the heat, and let the soup rest for 10 minutes. Serve hot.

Yield: 8 servings.

Advance preparation: You can make this through step 4 up to a day ahead of serving. You might want to hold off adding the chard until you reheat if you want it to have a nice color. Bring the soup to a simmer, add the chard and simmer 10 minutes, then proceed with step 5. Tender Beans, Without Soaking

By MELISSA CLARK October 29, 2010

For years, there was a nearly insurmountable barrier between me and a truly excellent pot of beans: the seemingly simple act of soaking the beans, a requirement of nearly every recipe I read.

Not that this is hard, but it does require forethought. Plus there was never enough room in my refrigerator to fit a large bowl of the beans to soak overnight.

Instead I relied on canned beans, deluding myself into thinking that they were just as good as homemade. But in reality they were far from ideal, too mushy and bland.

But then I read a recipe that made me reassess everything. It was for Mexican pinto beans that were not soaked, but simply tossed into a pot with vegetables and seasonings and simmered for three hours.

And there was no overly cautious warning about waiting for the beans to cook through before adding the salt, common advice in many American recipes. (With this recipe, the beans were seasoned at the beginning.)

The resulting beans were firm-textured yet silky, with a deep earthy flavor enhanced by the herbs and aromatics with which they simmered.

The next time I craved beans, I walked right past the canned-goods section in the supermarket and headed straight for a package of dried Great Northern beans. I was imagining a meaty, cold-weather stew laden with herbs and garlic, so I also picked up some sweet Italian sausages and hearty sprigs of rosemary.

I caramelized the sausages first, sautéing the vegetables with cumin and tomato paste in the drippings, and then added the beans and plenty of water, simmering them until the house was fragrant and the windows fogged up.

The stew was deeply flavored and complex, and the beans were tender and nuanced. Now that I know I no longer have to soak them, I suspect beans will be on the menu at my house all winter long. HERBED WHITE BEAN AND SAUSAGE STEW Total time: 2 1/2 hours

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, more for serving 1 pound sweet Italian sausage, sliced 3/4-inch thick 1 tablespoon tomato paste 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin 2 medium carrots, finely diced 2 celery stalks, finely diced 1 onion, chopped 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped 1 pound dried Great Northern beans, rinsed and picked through 2 teaspoons kosher salt, or to taste 2 thyme sprigs 1 large rosemary sprig 1 bay leaf 2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar, more for serving 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper, more to taste

1. Heat the oil in a large stockpot over medium-high heat. Add the sausage and brown until cooked through, about 7 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer to a plate lined with a paper towel.

2. Add the tomato paste and cumin to the pot. Cook, stirring, until dark golden, about 2 minutes. Add the carrots, celery, onion and garlic. Cook, stirring, until the vegetables have softened, about 5 minutes. Stir in the beans, 8 cups water, salt, thyme, rosemary and bay leaf. Turn the heat up to high and bring to a boil. Then reduce heat to low and simmer gently until the beans are tender, about 2 hours, adding more water if needed to make sure the beans remain submerged.

3. When the beans are tender, return the sausage to the pot. Simmer for 5 minutes. Stir in the vinegar and pepper. Taste and adjust seasoning. Ladle into warm bowls and serve drizzled with additional vinegar and olive oil.

Yield: 6 to 8 servings. Vegetable Soups, Smooth and Hearty

By MARTHA ROSE SHULMAN December 12, 2011

Puréed vegetable soups satisfy my craving for and prove the point that a dish doesn’t have to be rich, heavy or meaty to be comforting and filling. The classic French model is a rich affair, usually finished with cream, crème frâiche or a béchamel. But a potato or a half cup of rice added to the soup with the vegetables is just as efficient a thickener.

If you don’t have an immersion blender, you might think about putting one on your Christmas list. With this blender on a stick, you can purée the soups right in the pot you cooked them in. I’ve never found a food processor to be efficient for blending soups; there’s too much liquid in the mix, and that can run out of the bowl or prevent the blades from really puréeing the soup. You can achieve a smooth result if you use a blender, but puréeing in a blender is a hassle, and it can be scary, too, as the hot soup will blow the top off the blender if you close it tightly. If you do use a blender, fill the jar only about one- third full, and remove the lid’s detachable center and pull a dish towel down over the top so that the hot soup won’t splash out. PUREED TOMATO AND RED PEPPER SOUP

I noticed that the most popular boxed soup at my supermarket is a tomato and red pepper soup, so I decided to come up with my own version.

2 red bell peppers, roasted 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil 1 medium onion, chopped 1/2 cup diced carrot 1/2 cup diced celery Salt to taste 4 large garlic cloves, minced 1 28-ounce can chopped tomatoes with juice 1/4 cup tomato paste 2 sprigs fresh basil Pinch of 1/2 teaspoon sugar (optional) 1 1/2 quarts vegetable stock or water 1/4 cup rice, preferably a medium-grain rice like arborio Freshly ground pepper

For garnish (optional): Garlic croutons (toast thin slices of bread, rub with a cut clove of garlic, and cut into squares) Freshly grated Parmesan Slivered fresh basil leaves

1. Roast the peppers as directed, allow to cool in a covered bowl, then peel, seed and dice. Set aside.

2. Heat the oil over medium heat in a large, heavy soup pot and add the onion. Cook, stirring often, until onion is translucent, about 3 minutes, and add the carrot and celery and a generous pinch of salt. Cook, stirring often, until the vegetables are tender and fragrant, about 5 more minutes. Stir in the garlic and cook, stirring, until fragrant, 30 seconds to a minute. Add the tomatoes with their liquid, the tomato paste, basil sprigs, cinnamon, sugar if using, and salt to taste. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes have cooked down slightly and smell fragrant, about 10 minutes. 3. Add the diced roasted peppers, the stock or water, rice, and salt to taste. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, cover and simmer 30 minutes, stirring from time to time. Season with freshly ground pepper, taste and adjust salt. Remove the basil sprigs.

4. Using a hand blender, purée the soup, or use a blender and purée in batches, being careful to pull a dish towel down over the top and not to cover tightly with the blender lid, then return to the pot and heat through. Taste and adjust seasonings. Serve topped with croutons, Parmesan cheese, and/or slivered basil.

Yield: 6 servings.

Advance preparation: This will keep for about 3 days in the refrigerator and can be frozen. Chicken Stews, to Savor or Store Away

By MARTHA ROSE SHULMAN February 13, 2012

My niece is about to give birth to her first child, so I decided to fill her freezer with nourishing, comforting chicken stews for those first busy weeks. She loves to cook and to eat well, but she and her husband both know how little time there is when you come home from the hospital with a new baby. When I e-mailed her asking if she’d like this, she wrote back: “That would be the best gift ever! I have felt like cooking up until today…. But now I feel too tired to stand up.”

I wanted each of these stews to feature a nutritious vegetable along with the chicken and aromatics. In this way they are truly one-dish, nutrient-dense meals. Though I suggest serving them with rice, other grains or pasta, if carbs are an issue, know that these stews are very satisfying on their own.

I used skinless legs and boneless, skinless thighs for my chicken stews, and I sought out free-range organic chickens. While chicken breasts are lower in fat than the legs and thighs, they dry out when you stew them for very long. You can increase or decrease the number of chicken pieces according to your needs. If you’ve frozen a stew, it’s best to thaw it overnight in the refrigerator for the next night’s dinner. If the stew doesn’t thaw completely, heat gently in a or use your microwave’s defrost function.

Here’s a great thing to do with leftovers: Shred the chicken and stir back into the stew, then pile the mixture over grains and heat in the oven as a casserole, or toss it with pasta. GREEK CHICKEN STEW WITH CAULIFLOWER AND OLIVES

Cinnamon adds a subtle sweetness to this stew. If salt is an issue, omit the olives; the stew will still be delicious.

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil 1 large red onion, chopped 2 to 4 garlic cloves (to taste), minced 6 to 8 chicken legs and/or thighs, skinned 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar 1 28-ounce can chopped tomatoes, with juice, pulsed in a food processor 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon Salt and freshly ground pepper 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme, or 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves 1 small or 1/2 large cauliflower, cored, broken into florets, and sliced about 1/2 inch thick 12 kalamata olives (about 45 grams), rinsed, pitted and cut in half (optional) 1 to 2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley 1 to 2 ounces cheese, crumbled (optional)

1. Heat 1 tablespoon of the oil over medium-high heat in a large, deep, heavy lidded skillet or casserole and brown the chicken, in batches if necessary, about 5 minutes on each side. Remove the pieces to a plate or bowl as they’re browned. Pour off the fat from the pan. Add the vinegar to the pan and scrape up all the bits from the bottom of the pan.

2. Add the remaining tablespoon of the olive oil to the pan, and turn the heat down to medium. Add the onion and a generous pinch of salt and cook, stirring often and scraping the bottom of the pan, until it begins to soften, about 5 minutes. Turn the heat to low, cover and let the onion cook for 10 minutes, stirring from time to time, until it is lightly browned and very soft. Add the garlic and stir together for a minute or two more, until the garlic is fragrant, then add the tomatoes and their juice, the cinnamon, thyme, and salt and pepper to taste. Bring to a simmer and simmer 10 minutes, stirring from time to time, until the mixture is reduced slightly and fragrant.

3. Return the chicken pieces to the pot, along with any juices that have accumulated in the bowl. If necessary, add enough water to barely cover the chicken. Bring to a simmer, reduce the heat, cover and simmer 20 minutes. Add the cauliflower and kalamata olives and simmer for another 20 minutes, or until the cauliflower is tender and the chicken is just about falling off the bone. Stir in the parsley, taste and adjust seasonings. Serve with grains, with the feta sprinkled on top if desired.

Yield: 4 to 6 servings.

Advance preparation: The stew keeps for 3 or 4 days in the refrigerator and freezes well. With leftovers, make a delicious rice casserole by spreading cooked rice over the bottom of a baking dish and topping with the chicken and sauce. Heat through for 20 minutes at 325 degrees. How to Conquer the

By MARK BITTMAN February 23, 2012

There are two ways to think of cassoulet: First, as a canonical recipe from the South of France, in which the beans must be tarbais, the confit must be goose, the final topping browned . (The cassoulet I had in Tarbes was frankly amazing: it was prepared by a woman in her home, with tender, incomparably flavored beans that almost outshone the meats. It was one of those times I was sad to become full.)

The second way to think of cassoulet is as, not to put too fine a point on it, a glorified version of franks ‘n’ beans: you got your beans, your seasoning (garlic is essential), your sausage and then whatever other meat you might be able to get your hands on. Confit is obviously traditional, but when making traditional dishes, it’s important to remember that the people who “invented” them just used what they had. Confit — which is simply an old method of preserving duck or goose (or pork, for that matter) by sealing it in its own fat — was often available. But chances are that few people from southwestern France would have recognized Julia Child’s precisely codified recipe. The point is that liberties should not be viewed as inadequacies.

Having said all of that, I offer a cassoulet recipe I’ve developed over the years, and one I like. It’s not terribly difficult (I promise), so don’t be discouraged by the page of instruction that follows. Using a whole duck, this recipe builds on itself. You can choose to make it over the course of two days or four. There are several points at which you can decide to stop, refrigerate your ingredients and rest, or to forge ahead.

There is a clear order of operations. Cut up the duck; remove the skin from the legs and refrigerate them overnight. At this point, you can make the stock or pick up the recipe the next day. But you’ll need the fat from the stock in order to make the confit. And you’ll use the fat from the confit to brown the meat. But this cassoulet isn’t that demanding; it just takes time, and I’m here to say: You can do it. DUCK STOCK AND CONFIT Total time: 24 hours, largely unattended.

1 whole duck, 5 to 7 pounds Salt 10 garlic cloves, smashed 10 sprigs fresh thyme 1 , peeled and sliced 1 large onion, cut in half (don’t peel) 1 large carrot, cut in big chunks 2 celery ribs, cut in big chunks 1 bay leaf Several sprigs fresh parsley Black pepper Reserved duck fat from stock Olive oil as needed

1. Set the duck breast-side up on a cutting board. Using a boning knife, cut along one side of the breastbone; keep the back of your knife flush against that bone and follow the curve, cutting with the tip of your knife and pulling the meat back as you go. (It’s actually a kind of natural movement; trust yourself.) When you meet up with the skin from the legs, cut through the skin and detach the breast. Repeat with the second breast. The legs are now easy to see.

2. One leg at a time, cut through the skin, pulling the leg back as you go. Bend the leg backward to crack the joint, then cut through the joint (it’s easy to see once you’ve cracked it); detach the leg. Repeat with the second leg. Remove the skin from the legs with your fingers, loosening it with your knife as necessary; reserve. Remove and reserve any fat you encounter.

3. Lightly score the skin of the duck breasts to make a diamond pattern; be careful not to cut all the way through to the meat. Sprinkle with salt, cover and refrigerate until ready to use in the cassoulet.

4. Toss the duck legs with the garlic (use more if your cloves are small), thyme, shallot and a few pinches of salt. Refrigerate and marinate the duck legs overnight. 5. Heat the oven to 350. Put the duck carcass, onion, carrot and celery in a roasting pan. Roast, turning every now and then until quite well browned. Take your time; it’ll take at least an hour.

6. Transfer the contents of the roasting pan to a large pot; pour off the rendered fat and reserve it. Add the bay leaf, parsley and about 10 cups of water to the pot, and turn the heat to high.

7. Bring just to a boil, then lower the heat so the mixture sends up a few bubbles at a time. Cook, skimming and discarding any foam that accumulates, for at least 60 minutes and up to 2 hours. Cool slightly, then strain. Season with salt and pepper. Refrigerate the stock overnight. The next day, take the stock out of the refrigerator and remove the duck fat from the top; it will have solidified, and you’ll be able to scoop it right off.

8. Put the fat in a medium saucepan over medium heat. When the fat melts and reaches about 190 degrees, add the duck legs along with the garlic and as much olive oil (or duck fat) as necessary to submerge the legs. Discard the thyme and shallot.

9. Cook, never letting the heat exceed 200 degrees, until the meat is tender and easily pierced with a fork, about 11/2 hours. Let cool, then store the duck in the fat in the refrigerator until you’re ready to use it in the cassoulet.

Makes: 1 carcass for stock; 2 legs for confit; 2 breasts for ; about 8 cups stock; and 1 cup fat. WHOLE-DUCK CASSOULET Total time: 4 to 5 hours, partly unattended

4 cups dried white beans 1/2 pound not-too-smoky slab bacon Small bunch fresh parsley, leaves chopped, stems saved 10 sprigs fresh thyme 2 bay leaves 1 teaspoon whole cloves Salt and black pepper 1 pound boneless lamb shoulder, cut into 1-inch cubes Reserved fat, as needed 2 medium onions, sliced Duck confit 8 garlic cloves, peeled 2 cups duck stock, plus more as needed 4 cups chopped tomatoes 1 tablespoon chopped garlic 1/4 teaspoon cayenne 1/2 pound garlicky sausage, preferably in one piece 1 cup bread crumbs 2 boneless duck breasts

1. Bring 5 quarts of water to a boil in a large saucepan and add the beans. Remove from heat and let soak for 1 hour.

2. Cut the bacon slab into 4 large chunks and cover in water in another saucepan; turn the heat to medium, and when the water boils, turn it down to a gentle simmer. Cook for about 30 minutes.

3. Make a bouquet garni by combining the parsley stems, thyme, bay leaves and whole cloves in a piece of cheesecloth and tying it into a bundle. (I never use cheesecloth myself but turn to my old tea ball, which is around for only this purpose.) Add it, along with the bacon, to the beans; bring to a boil, then lower the heat to a gentle simmer. Cook, skimming occasionally, until the beans are just tender, 45 to 90 minutes. (Add water if necessary; ideally the beans will be moist but not swimming when they’re done.) Taste and adjust the seasoning if necessary.

4. Sprinkle the lamb with salt and pepper. Put 3 tablespoons reserved duck fat in a large pot over medium-high heat. When it’s hot, add the lamb and brown the pieces well. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until soft, 5 or 6 minutes; turn off heat.

5. Remove the duck confit from the refrigerator and scrape off the fat; debone and shred the meat. Add the meat and garlic cloves to the pot with the lamb, along with 2 cups duck stock, tomatoes, chopped garlic and cayenne. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a gentle simmer; cover. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the lamb is very tender, 1 to 11/2 hours. Taste and adjust the seasoning if necessary.

6. When you’re ready to assemble the cassoulet, discard the bouquet garni. Cut the fat from the meat and cut the meat into small pieces.

7. Heat 2 tablespoons reserved duck fat in a medium skillet over medium-high heat, add the sausage and cook, turning as necessary until well browned; transfer to a cutting board and slice into quarter-inch rounds; don’t wash out the pan.

8. Heat the oven to 375. Transfer a layer of beans to a large enameled cast-iron pot with a slotted spoon to leave behind most of the cooking liquid. Layer half of the sausage and bacon on top, then another layer of beans, then half the duck-and-lamb mixture; repeat the layers until you have used all the beans and meat.

9. Put the pot over medium heat and bring to a simmer, uncovered, then turn off heat. Cover with bread crumbs and chopped parsley leaves and bake, uncovered, for 20 minutes.

10. While the cassoulet is in the oven, put the skillet used for cooking the sausage over medium-high heat. When it’s hot, cook the duck breasts, skin-side down, until they release easily from the pan, 3 to 5 minutes. Turn and cook to rare, just another minute or 2. Remove the duck from the pan with a slotted spoon and pour the drippings from the pan over the cassoulet; reduce oven heat to 350.

11. Bake the cassoulet until it’s hot, bubbling and crusted around the edges, 30 to 40 minutes; add a little duck stock if it starts to look too dry. Slice the duck breasts on the diagonal and transfer them to the pot, tucking them into the bread crumbs. Cook until the breasts are medium rare, another 5 minutes or so, then serve. Soups From the Garden: Simple Vegetarian Broth

By MARTHA ROSE SHULMAN April 23, 2012

Not long ago I had a delicious vegetarian pho in a Vietnamese restaurant in Los Angeles. The broth was heady with sweet spices and, like the traditional meaty soup, was served with rice noodles, bean sprouts and fresh herbs. I asked the waiter if he knew how the chef made the stock, and the sous chef came out and told me it involved lots of vegetables (well, yes), spices and … MSG! Though I often get headaches after eating , this restaurant didn’t use much of it. Still, when I left, I was determined to come up with my own meatless version of pho, sans MSG.

I have made delicious classic beef pho using and to flavor the broth, but this time I just focused on the charred ginger and onion; the spice bag filled with star anise, peppercorns, cinnamon stick and cloves; and an abundance of sweet vegetables to obtain a light but highly aromatic broth. I achieved the flavor I wanted, and now had this beautiful vegan broth, with the option of fish sauce for nonvegetarians to add. This would be my canvas for the week’s recipes. I used classic wide rice noodles in some of my soups, untraditional soba in others and quinoa in one. Protein came in the form of tofu, and I mixed and matched seasonal vegetables. The herbs – cilantro, Thai basil, mint – are classic, and the chilies and lime, also classic, bump up the flavor. I served smaller portions as a starter at a dinner party, but mostly enjoyed my pho as dinner every night for a week, and I was sad to see it go. SIMPLE VEGETARIAN PHO BROTH

To create this broth I used lots of sweet vegetables and the spices that infuse traditional beef pho broth. If you are not vegetarian, you can add the fish sauce, which contributes flavor but is not necessary for this delicious broth. You can use the dark green portion of the leeks here — just cut away the very ends.

1 large onion (about 1/2 pound), peeled and quartered 1 3-inch piece of fresh ginger 3 quarts water 1 pound leeks (1 1/2 large), tough ends cut away, halved lengthwise, cleaned and cut in thick slices 2 medium turnips (about 10 ounces), peeled and cut in wedges 1 pound carrots (3 large), peeled and sliced thick 2 ounces mushroom stems (from about 8 ounces mushrooms), or 4 dried shiitakes 1 head of garlic, cut in half 2 stalks lemon grass, trimmed, smashed with the side of a knife, and sliced Salt to taste 1 to 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar (to taste), preferably raw 6 star anise pods 5 whole cloves 1 tablespoon black peppercorns A 2-to 3-inch cinnamon stick 1 to 2 tablespoons fish sauce (nuoc mam), to taste (optional)

1. Scorch the onion and ginger by holding the pieces above a flame with tongs, or in a dry pan if using an electric stove. Turn the pieces until they are scorched black in places on all sides. Slice the ginger lengthwise.

2. Combine the scorched onion and ginger with the water, leeks, turnips, carrots, mushroom stems or dried shiitakes, garlic, lemon grass, salt to taste and 1 tablespoon sugar in a large soup pot and bring to a boil. Tie the spices in a cheesecloth bag and add to the soup. Reduce the heat, cover and simmer for 1 hour. Add the fish sauce if using, and simmer for another hour (2 hours total, with or without the fish sauce). Strain through a cheesecloth-lined strainer. Taste and adjust salt and sugar.

Yield: 2 1/2 quarts, serving 6. Advance preparation: This will keep for a few days in the refrigerator and can be frozen. CLASSIC PHO

1 recipe broth, above 3/4 pound wide rice noodles 3 shallots, sliced paper-thin, separated into rings and soaked for 5 minutes in cold water, then drained and rinsed 1/2 cup Asian or purple basil leaves, slivered 4 scallions, chopped 1 cup chopped cilantro Several sprigs fresh mint 2 cups mung bean sprouts 2 to 4 bird or serrano chilies, finely chopped (to taste) 3 to 4 limes, cut in wedges

1. Have the broth at a simmer in a soup pot.

2. Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add the noodles. Cook until just al dente, firm to the bite, following the timing instructions on the package (my wide noodles take about 5 minutes). Drain and divide among 6 large soup bowls. Ladle in a generous amount of hot broth. Sprinkle on half the cilantro, the shallots, half the basil leaves and the green onions. Pass the bean sprouts, chopped chilies, the remaining basil and cilantro, mint sprigs and the lime wedges. Serve with chopsticks for the noodles and soup spoons for the broth.

Yield: 6 servings.

Advance preparation: The broth will keep for a few days in the refrigerator and can be frozen. The noodles can be cooked several hours ahead. Rinse them after draining and keep in a bowl. Just before serving, reheat by dunking briefly into a pot of simmering water and draining (it helps to place them in a strainer or pasta pot insert). Seafood as the Stock Answer

By MARK BITTMAN July 23, 2012

You can make any soup with water instead of stock, but the soups that drive you wild usually have a beautiful stock as their base. This is doubly true of , which should start with a stock so delicious that you can barely imagine improving on it.

That’s easy to produce, actually. The hard part is finding the ingredients, because over the years we’ve seen two changes that have made that task more challenging: the near disappearance of the fishmonger and the pre-filleting of fish. Not only is it difficult to find someone to ask for fish bones, it’s difficult to find someone who even has them.

But there are tricks. One is to grab them when you see them, and make the stock incrementally, which is not a big deal. Another is to use shrimp shells, which work beautifully. A third is to accumulate (or beg) bodies, which make fantastic stock. In any case, you combine whatever you have with some aromatics (thyme branches, onion, celery, carrot, garlic, peppercorns) add water and simmer for 15 to 30 minutes. Cool, strain and freeze if you like.

Earlier this summer, I found a fish market that would give me or anyone else free lobster bodies, practically a life-changing event. I quickly made a vat of stock (six bodies, a gallon of water), followed by a . (Risotto with lobster stock is killer.)

From then on, every time I bought fish, I squirreled away a little piece in the freezer: one , the belly flap of a striped , a piece of , a lobster claw and so on. The day I decided to slay some people with kindness, I defrosted those bits and my stock and headed to the fish market, where I bought , clams and a couple of scallops for a bouillabaisse.

From here the process is dead easy. You have to make one accompaniment: croutons. A second, garlicky mayonnaise called rouille, is optional. (It’s like the gremolata served with osso buco; yes, it’s traditional, but it’s also overkill. Still, it’s a nice form of overkill.) To make rouille, incorporate garlic, cayenne to taste and a bit of roasted pepper into homemade mayonnaise, or just stir very finely minced garlic and roasted pepper, along with some cayenne, into your Hellmann’s.

Saffron is also optional (I can’t make a $65-an-ounce ingredient mandatory), but it’s really good. The same goes for Pastis, the anise-flavored liqueur, which delivers an extra fennel-y kick.

It’s important to be both flexible about your fish choices and smart about your cooking. The choice hardly matters, though I would argue for a big assortment. For years, it was asserted that you could not make a real bouillabaisse, whatever that is, without rascasse, which means you might as well give up now. So I say use what you have, as no doubt the inventors of bouillabaisse did. I don’t think dark-fleshed fish works well here, but other than that I can think of no limitations. (Someone gave me two sea urchins yesterday; I used their little meat as garnish.)

When I say be smart about your cooking, I mean this: if you put a thin, delicate piece of flatfish in at the beginning of the cooking, its flavor will survive but its substance will not. Save the most delicate stuff for last, and consider, as I suggest with the scallops in the recipe here, simply putting ultra-fast-cooking fish in the bottom of the bowl, and allowing it to be cooked by the heat of the soup.

You can pretend it’s avant-garde cooking, but really it’s just sensible. BOUILLABAISSE Total time: 1 hour, with prepared lobster stock

Good olive oil, as needed 4 to 8 thick slices good bread 1 onion, chopped 4 cloves garlic, chopped 2 celery stalks, trimmed and chopped 1 carrot, trimmed and chopped 1 medium new potato, peeled and chopped 1 small bulb fennel, trimmed and chopped 1/4 teaspoon saffron, optional 3 cups lobster stock 2 cups chopped tomatoes, with their juice (canned are O.K.) Salt and pepper 1 to 1 1/2 pounds chopped boneless fish and shellfish, preferably a variety 8 littleneck clams 8 mussels 2 sea scallops 2 tablespoons Pernod or other pastis, optional Chopped fennel fronds, for garnish Chopped basil or parsley, for garnish Rouille, optional

1. Heat oven to 200 degrees; brush bread liberally with olive oil, and bake on a sheet, turning once, until golden and crisp. Set aside.

2. Add enough olive oil to a , deep skillet or shallow pot to make a thick layer (don’t skimp) on the bottom. In it, cook onion, garlic, celery, carrot, potato, fennel and saffron until glossy. Add stock and tomato and bring to a moderate boil; cook until thick and stewy rather than soupy. Season to taste; it should be so delicious that you don’t even care whether you add fish.

3. Lower heat to a simmer, and, as you add fish, adjust heat so that the liquid continues to bubble gently. Add fish in order of how long they will take to cook. Monkfish, striped bass and squid are fish that might require more than a few minutes, so add them first. About five minutes later add clams and mussels, holding back any fish that has been cooked or will cook in a flash. When mollusks open, add remaining fish. Cut scallops into quarters and place in the bottom of 4 bowls.

4. Add pastis if you’re using it; taste and adjust seasoning. Ladle hot soup and fish over the scallops, distributing clams and mussels evenly. Garnish and serve with croutons and rouille, if you’re using.

Yield: At least 4 servings.

Note: To make rouille, add 1/2 cup finely minced roasted, peeled and seeded red bell pepper, 2 cloves finely minced garlic and cayenne to taste to either homemade or store- bought mayonnaise. Winter Squash, Five Ways

By MARTHA ROSE SHULMAN October 29, 2012

This week it’s hard not to think about , even though most of you won’t be cooking your jack-o’-lanterns. But along with the pumpkins in bins outside my supermarket, there are as many kabocha squashes, butternuts, acorns and large, squat European pumpkins that the French call potirons. One big kabocha was enough for five different recipes this week ? a real bargain at $5.99.

The big winter squashes can be daunting if you don’t have a heavy-duty chef’s knife. The skin on kabochas, though, while thick, is not particularly hard. I used a cleaver to whack off big slices, which I roasted without peeling for some recipes, and peeled and cut into dice for others. If you need to dice the squash, cut off a big slice first, then cut that slice into manageable pieces, which you can then cut into thin slices, peel and dice.

You can use either butternut or kabocha squash in this week’s recipes, though the two are not identical in texture or flavor. Butternut is a denser, slightly sweeter squash, and kabocha has an earthier flavor. Kabocha squash absorbs flavors beautifully and is especially well suited for salads because of the nice way it absorbs tart dressings. They’re both high in vitamin A in the form of beta carotene, vitamin C, potassium, dietary fiber and manganese, folate, omega-3 fatty acids, vitamin B1, copper, vitamin B6, niacin and pantothenic acid. PUREED WINTER SQUASH SOUP WITH GINGER

One of the most comforting dishes you can make with winter squash is a puréed soup. I use rice to thicken this one, but you could also use a potato, or not add additional starch at all, as the squash itself has a lot of body. To enhance the flavor, this one calls for ginger, with a little lime juice and a swirl of yogurt added before serving.

1 tablespoon canola or rice bran oil 1 medium onion, chopped 1 carrot, diced 2 pounds peeled winter squash, like butternut or kabocha 2 garlic cloves, minced 1 tablespoon minced ginger 6 1/2 cups water, chicken stock or vegetable stock 1/3 cup rice Salt and freshly ground pepper 1/2 teaspoon ginger juice (made by grating a teaspoon of fresh ginger, wrapping in cheesecloth and squeezing the cheesecloth) Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg 1/2 lime 4 to 6 tablespoons plain yogurt

1. Heat the oil over medium heat in a large, heavy soup pot or Dutch oven and add the onion and carrot. Cook, stirring, until the vegetables are tender, about 5 minutes. Add the winter squash, garlic and minced ginger and cook, stirring, until the mixture smells fragrant, about 1 minute.

2. Add the water or stock, the rice and salt to taste and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, cover and simmer 45 minutes to 1 hour, until the squash is very tender.

3. Using a hand blender, or in batches in a regular blender, purée the soup. If using a regular blender, cover the top with a towel pulled down tight, rather than airtight with the lid. Return to the pot and heat through. Stir in the ginger juice, taste and season with salt and pepper. If desired, thin out with a little more water or stock.

4. Ladle the soup into bowls and add a tablespoon of yogurt (more to taste), then slowly swirl the yogurt into the soup with a spoon. Squeeze a few drops of lime juice onto each serving and sprinkle with whisper of nutmeg.

Yield: 4 to 6 servings.

Advance preparation: The soup will hold for several hours, in or out of the refrigerator. Proceed with Step 4 just before serving. About TBook Collections

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