Just Imagine …

‘Beautiful soup so rich and green, waiting in a hot tureen sings Lewis Carroll’s lugubrious Mock Turtle in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. ‘Beautiful soup! Who cares for fish, Game or any other dish. Who would not give all else for two pennyworth only of beautiful soup?’  he continues in a voice which Carroll tells us is ‘choked with sobs’ The Mock Turtle  is fearful, presumably, that he will end up in the soup in more senses than one.

Soup  is one of the oldest, most digestible  and simple of  cooked dishes and, in some form or other it is known in every culture. It’s often quite  low  in calorific value, which makes it sadly  inadequate food for the poor in famine-stricken countries. But in prosperous  cultures many sorts of soup can be  a  healthy  and tasty meal choice.  Homemade soup  which, obviously, contains no preservatives, artificial  flavourings  and colourings –  is  lightly nourishing because, on the whole, the vitamins in the vegetables  are cooked in, blended  and eaten rather than boiled out and thrown away in the cooking water.

At its most improvisatory basic  ‘soup’,  which can be variously called pottage,  broth or chowder,  just consists of a few cooked vegetables and or grains cooked and mashed  up in a savoury  liquid base.  Traditionally soup is never  quite  the same twice because it was always an economical  mop-up dish cooked in a continuously simmering pot  with left-overs and bits and pieces which happened to be around.

Esau, in the book of Genesis (Genevan Bible Chapter 25) famously sold his birthright for a ‘mess of pottage’  –  a bowl of lentil soup. He was hungry and didn’t recognise the value of  the birthright. Nor, at that stage  did he have the measure of his brother Jacob’s cunning.

But I expect he felt warmly  full once he’d eaten it. Some of the best and most substantially tasty  soups  have been made from pulses –  peas,  beans and other legumes –  for thousands of years.  Almost every country seems to have its national dish of pulse-based soup:  from the spicy  dal soups of India to the fasolada of Greece or the red pea soup of Jamaica.  The Chick pea harira of Morocco is a nourishing soup traditionally  used to break the fast at dusk during the month-long feast of Ramadan.

And bean soup quirkily  appears on the menu in the restaurant of the House of Representatives  in Washington DC  every day. Why? The story is that in 1904, Joseph G (Uncle Joe) Cannon tried  to order bean soup on a very hot day only to be told that there wasn’t any. He made a huge fuss and insisted that it must ALWAYS  be available, rain, sunshine, snow storm or tropical heatwave notwithstanding. His orders are  heeded to this day.

In Western Countries and in China soup is often quite thin and light  most usually eaten as a elegant  first course or starter before  a main course. Elsewhere  denser soups are often eaten with plenty of bread and perhaps with cheese and or salad  as a substantial main course.  It’s worth experimenting with this as a way of eating.

A thick soup seems even more luxurious if you add a swirl of cream or a dash of sherry but these are not necessarily very healthy options. If you want the creamy texture without the calories  of cream, substitute low-fat fromage frais. Ensure that all sherry, or other wine is organically produced. And bear in mind that  freshly squeezed lemon juice will often give the same sort of lift to a soup that wine does.

Many soup recipes call for a base of stock. Alas, few of us now have a bubbling  stock pot permanently on the back of the stove from which we can take a few ladles.

There are two modern solutions. You can make your own stock by boiling for an hour or two the outside leaves of green vegetables and peelings form root vegetable  with some fresh and or dried herbs. It’s best to include a little onion or leek but don’t overdo it or they will over power everything else. Strain off the liquid and there’s your stock, Add a little salt if you wish. Home-made stock will freeze for two or three weeks without much loss of flavour.

The alternative is to use a stock or vegetable bouillon cube. There are quite a range now  available  in health food stores, delicatessens and supermarkets. Shop about until you find one you like. Ideally, stock for soup shouldn’t be too salty.

The following are (mock turtle-free)  soup recipes from around the globe. Each recipe will feed about four people but you may want to increase quantities if you’re serving the soup as a meal in itself. Enjoy!

Dal soup (India)

175g yellow split peas, soaked in plenty of water for a few hours in advance

1 large onion, peeled and chopped

50g sunflower oil

I clove garlic, crushed

10g turmeric

10g ground ginger

1 litre water

1 lemon, squeezed

seasalt

freshly ground black pepper

Rinse and drain the soaked split peas.  Fry the onion in the oil in a large saucepan for about five minutes. Add garlic turmeric and ginger and fry for a further five minutes. Sir in the split peas with the water. Bring it to the boil  and then let the mixture simmer very gently, pan lid on, for about 30 minutes.

Blend, liquidise or sieve the soup so that it is smooth.  Add  lemon juice and seasoning. Reheat before serving.

Chick pea harira (Morocco)

100g chick peas, soaked in plenty of water overnight and drained

I medium onion, peeled and finely chopped

50g olive oil

small bunch parsley, finely chopped

10g turmeric

10g ground cinnamon

2 litres water

seasalt

freshly ground black pepper

50g brown rice

40g wholemeal flour

100 ml water

I  free range egg, lightly beaten

I lemon. squeezed

Fry chickpeas with onions and spices in the olive in in a lareg saucepan for  3 or 4 minutes. Add the 2 litres of water and bring to the boil. Simmer, lid on, for about an hour util the chick peas are tender. Add seasoning and rice. Simmer for a further twenty minutes or so until the rice is cooked.

Gradually add 100ml of water to the flour  in a bowl, stirring continously to make a smooth paste.  Add to the soup. Cook it  for about another 15 minutes,  stirring occasionally as it thickens.

Remove from heat. Adjust seasoning and add beaten egg. Add lemon juice and let the soup stand for a few minutes to cook the egg before serving.

Spinach and pine nut soup (Italy)

450g fresh spinach, washed and shredded

40g sunflower margarine

I large onion, peeled and chopped

I clove garlic, crushed

15g wholemeal flour

I litre vegetable stock

50g cream or fromage frais

50g pine nuts

seasalt

freshly ground balck pepper

freshly grated nutmeg

Cook the spinach in a covered pan with a little seasalt without adding extra water. Chop it finely when it’s tender and set aside.

Cook and onion and garlic in the margarine in a large saucepan until they are transparent. Stir in the flour and cook briefly to make a paste. Add  the  sock bit by bit, stirring al the time. Bring to the boil.

Add the chopped spinach and cook for a few minute so that all the flavours blend. Lower the heat and add the cream or fromage frais with the nuts. Do not re-boil.

Serve with nutmeg.

Let’s hear it for soya beans, sometimes called endame beans. And I don’t mean dreadful processed stuff pretending to be something else. I mean beans.  Soya beans, which contain as much protein as meat, are legumes. They grow in pods like garden peas or broad beans and have been a staple part of the Chinese diet for over 4000 years. Full of fibre, low in saturated fats but high in heart-protecting antioxidants and genistin which is thought to inhibit cancer, soya beans are pretty good news especially as they also contain isoflavones – plant oestrogens – and nature’s alternative to HRT.

The low incidence of heart and colon cancer and of menopausal symptoms in China and Japan and has been attributed – in many studies – partly to high soya consumption.

Wholefood shops sell dried soya beans. These need soaking overnight in cold water and then boiling for three hours in fresh water or fast-cooked in a pressure cooker or microwave. So it makes sense to do a large batch and freeze spare portions of your finished dish. Soya beans have a good hearty texture but almost no taste. Because they absorb other flavours well, they’re good in curry, lemon, tomato or chilli sauces.  Just make a good strong sauce – or use a bought one – and simmer the cooked beans in it.  Alternatively you can use the frozen ones now widely sold in supermarkets.

Don’t forget tofu either. People are usually a bit Marmite about tofu but I love it. Sometimes known as ‘bean curd,’ it’s is an ancient solidified soya milk product.  This versatile and  widely stocked ingredient works well chopped and tossed with a little pesto to serve on pasta or steeped in spicy sauces.  The marinated or smoked types are delicious in stirfries and casseroles.  Plain “silken” tofu works well in desserts such as cheesecakes or chocolate mousse.

Each recipe will feed 2/4 people:

Soya bean  Curry

 300g cooked soya beans

medium onion

clove garlic

2 generous pinches each of coriander and cumin

rounded teaspoonful curry powder

pinch ground ginger

2 tomatoes

a few drops of lemon juice

125ml vegetable bouillon

150g best sultanas

egg- sized lump of creamed coconut

knob of  margarine or butter

salt and freshly ground black pepper

Chop the onion and crush the garlic. Heat the margarine in a saucepan and cook the onion and garlic gently with the spices. When onion is transparent add the tomatoes, skinned and chopped. Cook for a further two or three minutes, stirring. Add bouillon, lemon juice, curry powder and sultanas. Bring to boil, stirring. Remove from heat. Add the creamed coconut and leave it to melt into the curry sauce, stirring occasionally. Lastly add the beans. Simmer for 15 minutes for the flavours to blend. Season to taste.

Serve soya bean curry with brown rice and/or Indian bread.

Fruity tofu kebabs

250g tofu, fresh or marinated

small fresh pineapple

large mango

100g seedless black grapes

100g mango chutney

1 lemon and fresh herbs to garnish

 Drain the tofu and cut into 32 pieces. Cut pineapple into 32 pieces and mango into 24 little chunks. Thread long cocktail sticks or skewers with varied arrangements of tofu, pineapple, mango and grapes.  Brush with sieved mango chutney.  Grill for about five minutes until just browning. Serve on a bed of rice decorated with fresh herbs and lemon slices.

Roast soya bean  loaf

300g cooked soya beans, mashed.

1 large onion

2 large carrots

50g tomato puree

vegetable stock cube

soya oil

250g wholewheat breadcrumbs

2 large free range eggs, beaten

50g flaked almonds

salt and freshly ground black pepper

Chop the onions and carrots finely. Cook together in oil in a saucepan for 5-7 minutes. Add tomato puree and vegetable stock cube. Remove from heat.

Add breadcrumbs and mashed beans. Mix thoroughly. Lastly add the eggs. Mix and season. The texture should be stiff enough that the mixture can be picked up and moulded with floured hands (you can use soya flour).  Add more breadcrumbs if necessary.

Shape into a loaf shape. Place on an oiled baking sheet. Scatter flaked almonds on top.  Bake in moderate oven (around 180c) until firm and slightly browned.

Serve soya loaf with potatoes roasted in their skins in soya oil and a fresh green vegetable such as cabbage or spinach.

It’s the exploitative, expensive, tacky season of tat. St Valentine has a lot to answer for.  “Valentine’s Day” is commercially driven codswallop. It aims to separate gullible and soppy people from their hard earned cash – and succeeds. Red roses (which fail to blossom, droop depressingly the next day and may not be the only thing which does), candlelit meals in restaurants where you can see neither the menu nor what you’re eating and pricey gifts are nothing to do with anything.  Anyone who succumbs is simply handing over money to businesses only too ready to relieve fools of it.

Just who was St Valentine anyway? Well he might have been a third century Roman priest. Or maybe a bishop. Or perhaps there were two of them. It’s all pretty vague. Whatever the distant truth (if any) everyone’s agreed that he was, or they were, martyred by decapitation. Nasty – and not a lot to do with lovers, hearts, chocolates, rampant commerce  or beekeepers, for which St Valentine is, oddly, also patron saint.

The whole saint thing was invented by the Catholic Church in the 14^th century when it constructed the hagiography –  the nearest it has ever come to entertaining fiction. At that point – bit like organising a cabinet – each saint was assigned a department or a combination of departments, often arbitrarily. Thus Valentine got lovers and beekeepers, St Christopher got travellers, St Jude got lost causes and all the rest of it. You can imagine them all – if that’s your thing –  at some celestial cabinet meeting arguing for their various projects.

Few saints  have made the money that Valentine coaxes out of easily manipulated people every year, though. Interest in Valentine’s Day has soared in the last generation or two just as monogamous commitment in relationships has declined – a Johnsonian triumph of hope over experience it seems. And the card companies, restaurants, gift manufactures et al have dived in enthusiastically.  When I was a teenager in the 1960s, and marriage was usually still a serious commitment, one or two people sent anonymous  cards. It was all very minor, In the nineteenth century – the plot of Far From The Madding Crowd (1874) rests on it – it was a curiosity but hardly a Big Thing. Today we have shops full of red junk festooned with cupids, arrows and other nonsense capitalising (literally) on the spending lull between Christmas and Easter. Resist it I say. Real love is belittled by the tawdry triviality of it all.