For me, this is not just a soup, but also a quick dinner when I add some quinoa or rice to it. This soup is mild, but when I make it for myself, I add hot sauce or green chillies while blending the onions and garlic. You can also add leftover vegetables to it.
We like to make up big batches of this homey chowder when the local sweet corn is at its peak. Do not toss out those corn cobs; they make a fabulous stock that gives this soup its wonderful corn-y flavor.
I absolutely love making this soup now that I have figured out how to make it using my food processor. It used to be quite labor-intensive to cut all the vegetables by hand. Now, I just throw them into the food processor to chop into small pieces, then toss them into my Dutch oven. So quick, so simple, and I also vastly prefer the texture of the soup prepared this way to the traditional way I was taught to make it. The vegetables don’t all come out the same perfect size, which I like, and the rice or pasta is cooked at the same time, making it possible to get my soup on the table pretty quickly.
You can, literally, put any vegetables in soupe au pistou. In spring, I add asparagus and loads of fresh peas. In summer, more ripe tomatoes. In fall, I add butternut squash. It is a substantial soup, and served with a baguette, it could easily be the meal’s main course. A green salad is a nice accompaniment.
Confession: I’ve always found potato-leek soup to be a little on the gluey side. So, when I make it at home, I try to add a green element, especially in spring months. Asparagus becomes quite subtle in this soup and pairs well with the anise-y fennel and peppery arugula in the background. Any manner of peas (sweet, sugar snap, snow) could be swapped for the asparagus. Because we are pulverizing much of the fiber in this recipe, I garnish the soup with a few raw asparagus spears as a carb companion.
This is the ultimate one-pot meal that feeds many and comforts all. By far, my favorite traditional main course. Essentially a soup made with meat (a combination of beef and pork) or seafood and root vegetables, the dish varies from home to home and town to town.
A whole book could be written about this dish, since it has been adapted and appropriated by many countries across Latin America and the Caribbean. Hence, sancocho recipes are personal, unscripted, often use locally available ingredients , and can be watered down if unexpected mouths show up.
Serving and eating sancocho is particularly personal. I go with how it was always served at my mother’s home: Once the soup is ready, the roots, corn, and meats are taken out of the broth and divided onto large platters. The broth is then strained, skimmed, and reheated to be served on the side along with lime wedges, avocado slices, white rice, and ají.
Each person gets a plate and a bowl, and they assemble their own sancocho as they wish. Some cut the roots and meats up to add back into the broth, while others eat it separately and sip the broth between bites. Whichever way you choose is fine.
Regardless, there is a lot of silverware involved.
Kim Chi loves this simple Korean seaweed soup that is traditionally eaten on birthdays and after giving birth, but it is delicious anytime! This is home food of the first order and rarely found in restaurants so making it at home is essential. Healthy, simple to make and very, very soothing, Kim equates this soup it to a “warm hug”
Of all the recipes in this book, this savory dish is the one I make the most often, not just because it’s delicious, but because it connects me to my past. Throughout childhood, my grandma would make me various versions of this soup, and as an adult, it brings me so much comfort to make it and share it with others. Expect a vegan, Mexican-inspired twist on a Chicken and Rice Soup with tofu swapped in for the chicken and with the addition of fresh lemon juice and cilantro. So delicious!
One of my favorite things to do with a batch of Sunday Focaccia is to dunk it into this simple Mediterranean-inspired soup. It features a combination of fennel and dill, which evokes the food I grew up with in a Greek American home. The best thing about the soup is that it’s quick to make (it’ll only need 20 minutes to simmer), and like most soups, it tastes even better after a day or two.
I first made this soup on a camp stove in my camper van during a six-month road trip, and then again and again and again as the nights grew colder, snowier, windier, darker. It starts with instant soup noodle mix—never leave home without it!—and then follows along the tradition of stracciatella, egg drop soup, hot and sour soup, and sopa de ajo, which are all cloudy with ribbons of egg. As the soup mix simmers, beat an egg in a soup bowl (the warm soup will cook any egg stuck to the bowl). Tear vegetables with your hands to save a knife and cutting board. Add the vegetables towards the end of the soup simmering, then stream in the egg. In a few seconds, what appears resembles clouds, or maybe rags (straccetti means “little rags”), or flowers (the direct translation of the Chinese name for egg drop soup is “egg flower soup”). In one pot, in a few minutes, on a stovetop or campfire, this soup is there for you: starch, vegetable, protein, warmth, comfort, and all.
A “virtual” cream soup, this is a creamy soup made without the cream. We don’t want to oversell, but this soup comes together in a blink and proves simple really can fly.
The spicing opportunities in this recipe are limitless. If you skip the puree, the soup takes on a totally different life. The essential finale is fresh lemon and generous spoonfuls of whole milk yogurt.