Soup/Stew

I’m a bean lover but chickpeas are my favorite, so I make them the star of this spicy, satisfying rustic soup. I top off this bowl of comfort with some crispy, crunchy croutons and a drizzle of big fat finishing oil, and it takes me right back to Tuscany!

When tart apple and sweet carrot cook down slowly with smoked paprika they make a savory jam for these fall-off-the-bone tender ribs.

My favorite firework is the Friendship Pagoda. A little bright yellow house spins ’round like a top, emits sparks, and then up pops a pagoda and a little light glows within. My son Joe’s best first-grade friend is named Edison Seto. They make quite a pair. I love to see them out at recess walking with arms slung over each other’s shoulder. Joe has had friends, of course, before first grade, but they were all friends of the family. Edison is the first friend he has made on his own. It looks as if Joe is a good judge of character, for Edison is as sweet as can be. Edison lives in the family’s New Sunlight Market with his parents, grandparents, and tiny sister, Grace. Joe loves to play over at Edison’s. I would too; they get to ride their scooters up and down the aisles, snagging Little Debbie snack cakes for each lap. Edison’s family is from China and this has turned Joe into quite a fan of anything the slightest bit Chinese. This soup was inspired by their friendship and by the fine collard greens from the New Sunlight Market.

Once bound by the southeastern borders, pimiento cheese has slowly swept the nation. This soup was just a matter of time. A big batch of this is perfect for Super Bowl parties and such.

The peas, left whole, pop in your mouth with sweetness in each bite. The whipped salted cream browns underneath the broiler and blankets each spoonful with a froth.

Salsify is the root of a member of the sunflower family, although the plants—also called “goat’s beard”—have a flower that looks more like a giant dandelion. The roots range from inky black to golden orange to turnip white. Salsify carries the nickname “oyster plant” due to its unique flavor, which has often been described as “oystery.” I can’t say I agree, but I do like it. The most popular variety grown for cooking is Mammoth Sandwich Island, which looks like a parsnip. “Scorzanera” is the Godfather-sounding name for black salsify. Both types can be used interchangeably in this recipe. When working with salsify remember to treat it as you would an apple by placing it in water with a little lemon juice in it to keep the salsify from turning brown. Peel it just as you would a carrot, working near the sink, as it produces a milky sap that you will want to rinse off.

When I see the river rise and hear the birds sing, I think of my late dear friend Charlie Jacobs and his tune “Rhythm of Spring.” His association between native produce and more innocent days elevates the memory of spring smells to a sort of romance. He beguiles us. And he tells us that from our soil comes the ingredient we need to find meaning. When I make this soup in the first cool days of spring, I’ll serve it warm, and when the days begin to lengthen and turn warm, I like to serve it cool.

This classic Tex-Mex stew (see photograph page 10) is rich and delicious without the hours of simmering that most stews require. I cannot imagine ever eating this without Aunt Edna’s Homemade Flour Tortillas (page 171) to soak up every last drop of flavorful sauce.

Ropa vieja translates literally to “old clothes,” which is what the shredded meat, visually, may bring to mind. The smell and taste of this dish, however, are nothing short of heavenly. Please don’t be intimidated by the long list of ingredients. There is only a little bit of chopping required; the whole point is to put a bunch of things together and forget about it for hours (although you’re welcome to taste along the way if you prefer—or can’t resist!). The shredded meat should stand for at least 15 minutes before serving, but if you have more time, let it stand longer, as it just gets better and better. This dish’s origins are Caribbean, so serve it with other foods from the same region, especially white rice, black beans, and plantains.

These days I’m more likely to eat Chili con Carne with flavorful Corn Bread (page 181), but when I was a kid, “Frito pie” was one of our favorite after-school snacks: Place a generous handful of Fritos or other corn chips in the bottom of a bowl, ladle over some hot Chili con Carne, and top with cheddar cheese. Every delicious bite is cheesy, crunchy, and meaty! Mexican chorizo is a fresh (not dried) pork sausage seasoned with chiles; it makes all the difference between this Chili con Carne and more basic versions. This chili is better if it’s made a day ahead.

My fabulous hairdresser on the set of Desperate Housewives, Gabor, shared this recipe with me. In fact, he shared the very recipe his grandmother had used for decades—the card it was on must have been about eighty years old and was written in Hungarian! It took Gabor some time to decipher it, but I’m grateful for his efforts. It’s so delicious! It’s funny to think that almost every culture has some variation on the big pot of fragrant, nourishing stew. I’m glad to have been introduced to this one. The bell peppers add sweetness and color; the dish is really beautiful when made with green, red, yellow, and orange peppers, but feel free to use whatever you prefer or can get your hands on. The stew is amazing served over buttered egg noodles. And don’t worry about leftovers; this is even better after sitting in the fridge for a day or two.

This soup can be pulled together in minutes, and it’s one of the most soul-satisfying things I make. It should be very brothy so the orzo just floats in the rich, lemony broth. The pasta will absorb the broth as it sits, so serve as soon as it’s ready.

I love the refreshing flavor and heat of fresh ginger and this soup shows it off beautifully, especially if you use the full three tablespoons of ginger listed below. It even causes a pleasant burn in the back of your throat. If you prefer a little less assertiveness, use just two tablespoons. Either way, keep in mind that ginger becomes more pronounced over time, so although the soup stores very well, the ginger’s bite will become stronger. Many recipes for carrot and other pureed vegetable soups call for toppings of one kind or another, but I really prefer to let the natural flavors of the soup and veggies shine through, so I skip them. You can always top with a scattering of whatever fresh herb is in the soup, though, which is very pretty and highlights the flavors already in the soup. Be sure to cook the carrots until they are very tender so that they’ll puree to a silky smooth soup.

When I was a kid we grew all our own vegetables, especially calabasa, or squash. LOTS of squash. To be honest, I got a little sick of it (don’t worry—my mom already knows). Then I grew up and figured out a few surefire ways to show off the delicious earthiness and sweetness of summer squash. This soup is one of them; the lemon gives it great tang and the soup is unexpectedly creamy, even though there’s not a bit of cream or milk in it. Be sure to puree this soup in batches—don’t pour the soup over the level of the top of the food processor blade. This soup is brothy before it’s pureed, and it’ll seep out of the work bowl and all over the counter if you’re not careful.

My friends request this recipe more often than any other. I am often asked if it’s a family recipe. I take it as a compliment that people always seem so surprised to hear that I found it in a magazine when I was about twelve years old. I’ve made it so many times since then and it has evolved into what it is today. I think it’s so delicious—and popular!—because of its clear but very flavorful broth. So often tortilla soup is heavy, but this one is hearty without being unpleasantly thick. In fact, I make such a large batch because everyone always wants seconds and thirds. On the rare occasions that I’ve had leftovers, I’ve discovered that the soup keeps very well, and even gets better, stored in a tightly covered container in the refrigerator. The garnishes keep well stored in zip-top bags; keep the fried tortilla strips at room temperature and everything else in the refrigerator. When serving the second day, just place all the garnishes at the bottom of the bowl and ladle the soup over. I use two kinds of dried chiles—ancho and pasilla—because they add more depth and smoky notes to the broth. Use more or fewer chiles depending on how strong you want their flavor to be. For more on dried chiles, see page 96.

This soup is as smooth as velvet and has the warm, orange hue of autumn that always looks beautiful in the soup bowl. The cream adds richness, but you can leave it out for a lighter soup that is nonetheless very satisfying.

Every summer my family vacations in Harvey Cedars on Long Beach Island, New Jersey. Say what you want about New Jersey but let me tell you, when it comes to produce and seafood, it’s hard to beat. Most people you talk to know all about the tomatoes and corn, but there is so much more. How about the clams? My family gets ours from a local clammer. The scallop boats come in daily. The swordfish is exceptional and the crabs are as good as they are anywhere. I’m inspired by all of these things, and I’ve included most of them in this one dish. It may seem like a lot of ingredients, and it is. If you want to leave something out go ahead, or add something to it by all means. All the action happens in one pot, making this a great beach house dish.

This out-of-the-ordinary stew is seriously good and its enticing aroma seductive. The sauce is smooth and complex: cinnamon, mustard, cumin, fenugreek, and cardamom all add up to an intriguing flavor that really lingers. The parsley-almond garnish adds brightness to the dish. Sweet, nutty, and crunchy, with layers of Indian spices, this killer recipe is a musttry. Serve it over basmati rice.

A departure from classic chicken stew, this one-pot wonder with Middle Eastern flair is a little bit exotic but not off-putting or difficult to make in the slightest. In fact, my kids love it. The sweet apricots and salty olives play nicely off each other and collide under a shower of cilantro to jack up the flavor even more. The recipe should make a little extra for leftovers, which are even better the next day.

This hearty vegetarian stew has special memories for me. I used to make it almost every day when I was broke, back when I was trying to open my first restaurant. And yet I never get tired of it. This dish has layers of flavors, comes together pretty rapidly, and leaves you fully satisfied.