Soup/Stew

All right, Armenia can’t really be considered “Middle East,” but it is part of the botanically very important Trans-Causcasian region that begins in Iran. Botanically important because nearly all of our favorite stone fruits (cherries, peaches, apricots, etc.) had their beginnings in this region. This unusual soup combines the apricots of the region with lentils and vegetables. There are many variations and many ingredient possibilities, including bell peppers, tomatoes, mint, allspice, cinnamon, and paprika. In some versions, the lentils and vegetables are left whole; in others, they are puréed. Vary the soup to suit your taste.

Many years ago as a student at the University of California, Berkeley, I was invited to a dinner given by professor Laura Nader, a Lebanese American professor of Middle Eastern studies and sister of maverick politician Ralph Nader. Her dinner was simple and elegant, and the main course was a sort of Lebanese ratatouille. It was a delicious first for me, and contained many of the same elements as its French counterpart—eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes and green pepper—but its seasonings, rather than being the basil and garlic of the French version, were more typical of the Middle East. You might serve the dish with rice and a simple salad of romaine lettuce, just as Professor Nader did so long ago. I would also offer some crusty bread on the side.

Wild mushrooms abound in the mountains of northern Greece, and like everywhere else in the world where wild mushrooms grow, they make their seasonal appearance in stewpots throughout the region. Much to the surprise of many nonresidents, pasta is very common in Greece, too.

The ingredients in this simple vegetable stew are made to order for the long, slow heat of the communal oven or the slow cooker. Flavors meld, juices blend together, and the whole thing is a fragrant, pleasurable afternoon’s work.

This classic Greek soup is one of my favorites when I want to “lighten up” from a gustatory standpoint. It makes the perfect chicken soup substitute when you are just not feeling up to snuff, or a good light dinner when you’ve had enough of the restaurant-and-fine-dining circuit. It is traditionally made with chicken broth and small bits of chicken, but I think the meatless version yields even truer, clearer flavors. A touch of ground cumin adds yet another dimension to the flavor.

Most split pea soup recipes are ridiculously predictable. Some onion, a bit of carrot, maybe some cut-up spuds. A ham hock. Inevitably, split peas are the main attraction, usually cooked to a mushy consistency. But I was looking for texture and additional flavor, so I added some dried chanterelle mushrooms; half an onion, thinly sliced well browned; some chopped tomatoes; fresh celery leaves; carrots; and spinach. I considered adding liquid smoke because the ham hock was out. But as luck would have it, one of my wooden spoons caught on fire, so I let it burn, then put out the fire and stuck the charred spoon in the soup. If a winemaker can use charred oak to enhance flavors of her wine, then why can’t I use charred wood for that desired essence of smoke in my soup? (P.S. DO NOT try this at home! Using a smoked salt should achieve similar effects without the fire!)

One of the great joys of my childhood was having my mother read to me from Heidi. Heidi drank goat’s milk from a bowl for breakfast and had soup for dinner. In the Swiss Alps, Heidi enjoyed a feast that has sustained and nurtured people the world over for many centuries: soups, sometimes featuring the simplest of ingredients (as simple as some oats or flour, a nip of onion, and some broth or milk). Soups like this one have been made and drunk in France’s mountainous regions for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. All you need are some really flavorful ingredients, a creative mind, and a loving heart. Note: Don’t buy hard, flavorless tomatoes in the dead of winter and expect this simple soup to taste good! Use the best, freshest tomatoes you can find, preferably from your own garden, picked at the peak of ripeness on a late summer’s day. This is not a winter soup.

It’s delicious. It’s typical of the kind of peasant soup you might find in a mountainous region where barley grows plentifully, and mushrooms are to be had in season. And best of all, it’s a put-the-stuff-in-the-pot-and-walkaway-from-it no-brainer.

There is a Mexican restaurant in my town that specializes in caldos, or Mexican broth-based soups like this sopa de ajo. Everyone goes there to get take-out caldo when they feel a cold or flu coming on, but most of the time, everyone goes there just because they like caldo!

I think of black beans in Mexican cuisine as an almost upscale replacement for pinto beans, but in actual fact, they have been part of the meso-American culinary repertoire for thousands of years. This is a simple, flavorful, nutritious one-pot meal.

Chili, a quintessential slow cooker meal, is not a traditional Mexican dish. Rather, it seems to be Southwestern in its inception. It is sort of a combination of the dried beans and chiles so readily available in the Southwest with the wonderful spices brought by Europeans to Mexico. This particular version is generously seasoned with spices and chili powder and has been pieced together by me over the course of a few years. The following recipe makes a big mess o’ chili and is best done in a 6- or 7-quart slow cooker.

Amarillo means “yellow” in Spanish, and it is also the name of one of the seven classic moles, or sauces, from Oaxaca, known as “The Land of Seven Moles.” Though far from yellow (it’s more of a brick red), it can be used as a base for a delicious and very spicy vegetable stew that can stand alone or be served over rice to cut its heat.

One of the beautiful things about traditional Indian cooking is that each cook grinds her own spices, and each dish therefore bears the unique thumbprint of its creator. Freshly ground spices give this simple soup a gourmet touch.

Another delicious Indian soup, similar to the Spicy Indian Lentil and Tomato Soup (page 26), but with rice and a very different blend of spices.

Muslims from Persia and Central Asia invaded India from the north and ruled much of the country during the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries. As a culture, they are called “Mogul.” They brought with them a period of relative peace and affluence, unifying the native cultures and cuisines of India with those of the Persian Empire. Adding yogurt to a dish is a Mogul touch, as is sealing food with dough in a clay pot and cooking it directly over the coals of a fire. The following recipe is a typical Mogul-style dish, cooked in your slow cooker instead of over a fire. Add the yogurt at the last minute to avoid curdling. (Note: If you cut the eggplant into cubes, the dish makes an excellent sauce for pasta.) Serve with basmati rice.

One of the questions I’m often asked is “How do you stay so thin?” I want to respond by saying that I’m about average for my height and age, but instead I tell people that I eat only my own desserts. I’m not just being a salesman, it’s close to the truth. Aside from the occasional treat, for everyday meals, I prefer to make desserts that are well balanced rather than outrageously rich. I’ll often serve small slivers of cake, a plate of cookies, or scoops of icy sorbet along with a fresh fruit compote and have never met with resistance from any of my guests. When it comes to this virtuous fruit soup, the thin sheet of crackly coconut meringue always seals the deal for those who are doubtful that lean can taste luxurious.

This popular Thai soup, known in its native tongue as tom kha gai, uses some choice ingredients that may be a little difficult to find, but I’ve listed substitutes for them in case there isn’t a specialty Asian market in your neck of the woods.

Chili con carne is one of my favorite one-pot crowd-pleasers, and incorporating a healthy dose of Sriracha just makes it that much more delectable. However, I must disclose to my fellow chili-philes: consider having an antacid aperitif (or two) before voraciously devouring this recipe. You’ve been warned. Enjoy with Bacon-Sriracha Cornbread (page 78).

Lentil soup was one of my grandfather’s favorites, and my “five-alarm” version of it certainly pays homage to his dedicated service as a firefighter. Just when the heat of the Sriracha feels like it might engulf your palate, the finishing dollop of sour cream really helps tame the flames

The inherent sweetness of corn works so unbelievably well with the smoky undertones imparted by roasting it over a direct flame, you’ll be craving a hot soup even on the warmest of days.