Read Around My French Table Online
Authors: Dorie Greenspan
Around My French Table (16 page)
I served it generously peppered and plain, but it's a soup that welcomes embellishments, simple or lavish. For simple, consider drizzling the soup with a little walnut oil or dusting it with grated Parmesan or Comté. If you want to go lavish, top the soup with crème fraîche or, better still, crème fraîche and caviar—the slight saltiness of caviar is perfection with cauliflower. Or, if you're lucky enough to have a truffle, shave it over the soup; cauliflower and black truffles are an inspired combination. To get every bit of pleasure out of the combo, you should bring the hot soup to the table and shave the truffle over each person's bowl individually so that everyone can enjoy the fragrance that's released when the truffle is cut and further intensified when it's warmed by the soup.
For another elegant version of this soup, one that pairs it with a sister treasure from coastal Brittany, mussels, see Bonne Idée.
| 1 | tablespoon olive oil |
| 1 | tablespoon unsalted butter |
| 2 | Vidalia, Spanish, or large yellow onions (about ¾ pound), coarsely chopped |
| 2 | garlic cloves, split, germ removed, and thinly sliced |
| 3 | celery stalks, trimmed and thinly sliced |
| 2 | thyme sprigs, leaves only |
| Salt and freshly ground white pepper | |
| 1 | head cauliflower, leaves removed, broken into florets (discard the tough core) |
| 6 | cups chicken or vegetable broth |
| | |
| OPTIONAL TOPPINGS | |
| Extra-virgin olive oil or walnut oil | |
| Grated cheese | |
| Crushed toasted walnuts | |
| Crème fraîche or sour cream | |
| Caviar | |
| Shaved truffles |
Put the olive oil and butter in a large Dutch oven or soup pot and warm over low heat. When the butter is melted, add the onions, garlic, celery, thyme, ½ teaspoon salt, and a few grinds of white pepper. Stir until all the ingredients glisten with oil and butter, then cover the pot and cook slowly, stirring often, for 20 minutes.
Toss the cauliflower into the pot and pour in the broth. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat so that the broth simmers gently, and cook, uncovered, for another 20 minutes, or until the cauliflower is very soft.
Puree the soup in batches in a blender or food processor; or use an immersion blender. This soup is best when it is very smooth, so if you think it needs it, push it through a strainer. (If you've used a standard blender, this shouldn't be necessary.) Taste for salt and pepper; I like to pepper the soup generously.
Serve plain or garnished with the topping of your choice.
MAKES 8 SERVINGS
SERVING
Because it is elegant, this soup seems more suited to shallow soup plates than big bowls, but nothing about the crockery is going to change the enjoyment it delivers. If you'd like, top the soup with a drizzle of oil (olive or walnut), some grated cheese, toasted nuts, crème fraîche (or sour cream), caviar, or truffles.
STORING
The soup can be kept covered in the refrigerator for 3 days or, packed airtight, in the freezer for up to 2 months.
BONNE IDÉE
Cauliflower-Mussel Soup.
This isn't a Breton tradition, but since Brittany produces both cauliflower and mussels, it could be. Warm 1 tablespoon olive oil in a Dutch oven or soup pot, toss in a bay leaf, 1 small onion, cut into eighths, and a pinch of salt, and stir the ingredients around in the oil until they glisten. Stir in 1½ to 2 pounds mussels, scrubbed and debearded, and ½ cup dry white wine, cover the pot, and cook just until the mussels open, about 4 minutes. Shell the mussels and set them aside in a covered bowl. Discard the shells and strain the broth; discard the solids. Measure the mussel broth and use it in place of an equal quantity of the chicken or vegetable broth. At serving time, divide the mussels among the bowls and spoon the hot soup over them.
T
HE SOUTH OF FRANCE EQUIVALENT OF
chicken soup, this is the go-to cure for everything from the common cold to the just-as-common hangover. Known as
aigo bouido,
or boiled garlic, in Provençal dialect, it's a very old and very traditional recipe that relies on garlic, and a lot of it, to give it flavor, fragrance, and healing powers. The recipe was given to me by my friend the baker and cookbook author Nick Malgieri, who worked on the Côte d'Azur when he was starting out in pastry and who collected recipes from his fellow cooks as well as from the family with whom he lived.
It is usual to make this soup with water, but if you'd like a richer soup, you can use chicken broth. What's important is to use lots of plump, fresh, unblemished garlic. You need a fat head so that when you slice it, you end up with about ¾ cup slivers, which is a lot of garlic in anyone's book. Just in case you're wondering, after simmering, the garlic retains its flavor but loses its boldness.
A note on the egg yolks: Nick suggests 6 for the soup, 1 per person, but I buck tradition and use just 3. I'd suggest you start there and then decide if you want to add more (the yolks are considered a medicinal part of the brew). Because they are added at the end, the number can be a last-minute decision.
| 1 | large unblemished garlic head (with at least 10 cloves) |
| 6 | fresh sage leaves |
| 2 | bay leaves |
| 2 | large thyme sprigs |
| 6 | cups water or 3 cups water plus 3 cups chicken broth or vegetable broth |
| 3-6 | large egg yolks |
| 1 | cup freshly grated Parmesan |
| Freshly ground pepper | |
| Extra-virgin olive oil, for serving |
Separate the garlic into cloves and peel them. Split each clove and remove the little germ at the center, then thinly slice the garlic. (If you've got one of those mini mandolines or garlic slicers, now's a good time to use it.) Toss the slivers into a Dutch oven or soup pot.
Tie the sage, bay leaves, and thyme together with kitchen twine, or bundle them into a piece of cheesecloth and close with twine, and put this bouquet garni into the pot. Pour in the water or water and broth, add 1 teaspoon salt, and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and let the soup simmer gently for 30 minutes.
Pull out the bouquet garni (discard it), taste the soup, and decide whether or not you want to puree it. Nick points out that it's more traditional not to, but the choice is yours (I'm a non-puree-er). If you puree it, use a blender or food processor (or an immersion blender), then return the soup to the pot.
Bring the soup back to a boil, then lower the heat to a simmer. Whisk 3 yolks and the Parmesan together in a medium bowl and, whisking constantly, add a few ladlefuls of the soup. Now, whisking the soup, gradually add the yolks and cheese in a steady stream. Whisk for a minute and decide whether or not you want to add more yolks. If you do, whisk the additional yolk(s) in a bowl with a little soup before adding them. The yolks will thicken the soup somewhat, but not much. Remove the pot from the heat—if you keep it over heat too long, especially if you're not whisking, you risk curdling the yolks—and whisk for 1 minute more. Taste the soup for salt, season with pepper, and serve immediately, with a drizzle of olive oil over each portion.
MAKES 6 SERVINGS
SERVING
Ladle the soup into warm bowls or mugs—mugs are untraditional, but it seems to me that they're perfect for cure-alls—and drizzle about a teaspoon of olive oil over each serving.
STORING
Because of the egg yolks, the soup is not meant to be kept, but if you refrigerate any leftovers, you'll find that the cold soup is pretty good the next day.
As I was making pesto one day, a friend did a double take when he saw me removing the germ from the center of each clove of garlic. He'd never seen anyone do that, but I'd been doing it for so long that I no longer thought about it.
Removing the germ (some people call it the sprout), the slender tear drop-shaped central piece, is a trick I learned working in French kitchens. It's unnecessary with new garlic in the spring—when the cloves are soft and the germ is minuscule—but taking it out of older cloves can make the garlic taste less bitter. Just slice the clove in half lengthwise and use the tip of a paring knife to scoop out the germ.
Blanching is another way to tone down garlic's bite, and it's something I do when I'm using garlic raw but want it to be a tad mellower. Just pop the cloves into a pot of boiling water for a minute or two, drain, and carry on.
I'm not sure if these tricks make garlic more digestible—lots of people claim it's so—but they rid it of its harshest, sharpest, and most bitter flavors. I like to think they allow garlic to be its best—kinder, gentler—self.
I often give garlic's cousins, shallots and onions, a little pretreatment to make them gentler too: after I slice, dice, or chop them, I rinse them in cold water. The rinse rids them of that bitter liquid that seeps out when you're cutting them, leaving just their basic sweet and sharp flavors. In fact, if I'm going to use onions raw in a salad, I'll do one more thing—after I've rinsed them, I'll dunk them in a bowl of ice water and leave them there for a few minutes. This little dip makes them crisper, and crisp is always welcome in a salad.
T
HIS SMOOTH SOUP IS A TRUE
Parisian creation: it's made with
champignons de Paris,
or what we know as plain white or button mushrooms, and it's inspired by a soup I had in one of my favorite Paris bistros, Les Papilles (whose name means taste buds). At the little restaurant, the soup comes to the table in a big tureen, and you're encouraged to dip the ladle into it as often as you like. I love that way of serving—it's so welcoming and so generous.
When we had the soup at Les Papilles, our shallow soup plates were brought to the table sans soup but with a small mushroom "salad": thin slices of raw mushrooms seasoned with salt, pepper, chopped chives, and parsley and topped with a tiny bit of crème fraîche. When the hot soup was poured over the salad, the mushrooms cooked just slightly. You can easily adopt the practice at home, or you can be a little more casual about it and just float the seasoned mushroom slices on top of the soup. Either way, you'll get to enjoy that nice contrast between the cooked soup and the raw vegetable.
Just so you know, the name
champignons de Paris
is more honorific than correct these days. While the mushrooms did get their start near Paris—Louis XIV had them in the gardens at Versailles—and while they were found growing in the catacombs beneath Paris when construction for the metro began, today the mushrooms are more likely to come from the Loire Valley.
| FOR THE SOUP | |
| 2 | tablespoons unsalted butter |
| 1½ | large onions, coarsely chopped |
| 3 | large garlic cloves, split, germ removed, and coarsely chopped |
| Salt and freshly ground white pepper | |
| 1½ | pounds white mushrooms, wiped clean, trimmed, and sliced |
| ⅓ | cup dry white wine |
| 2 | parsley sprigs |
| 1 | rosemary sprig |
| 6 | cups chicken broth or water (if you're using water, you can add 2 large or 4 regular-sized chicken bouillon cubes) |
| | |
| FOR THE SALAD | |
| 6 | large white mushrooms, wiped clean and trimmed |
| 2 | scallions, white and light green parts only, thinly sliced (optional) |
| 2 | tablespoons minced fresh parsley |
| 1 | tablespoon minced fresh chives |
| Salt and freshly ground white pepper | |
| | |
| Crème fraîche, for serving (optional) |
TO MAKE THE SOUP:
Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in a large Dutch oven or soup pot over low heat. Toss in the onions and garlic, season with salt and white pepper, and cook, stirring often, for about 5 minutes, until the vegetables are soft. Add the mushrooms and the remaining tablespoon of butter, raise the heat to medium, and cook, continuing to stir, for another 3 minutes or so, until the mushrooms release their liquid. Increase the heat to high and cook until almost all of the liquid evaporates. Pour in the wine and let it boil until it, too, almost evaporates.
Toss the herbs into the pot, add the broth or water (and the bouillon cubes, if you're using them), and bring to a boil. Lower the heat, cover the pot almost completely, and cook at a gentle simmer for 20 minutes. If you can, pull out the rosemary sprig (it will have lost its leaves).
Working in small batches in a blender or food processor, puree the soup until it is very smooth; or use an immersion blender. If you're using a processor or an immersion blender, you probably won't get a super-smooth soup. If you'd like, you can push the pureed soup through a strainer, but it's really not necessary. Taste for salt and white pepper. Pour the soup back into the pot and heat it gently—it shouldn't boil, but it should be very hot.
