Adis is a traditional lentil stew made with just a few simple ingredients: lentils, onions, tomatoes, and spices. My mom used to prepare it for me when we lived in Brussels. (I was often anemic, and this dish has always been one of my favorite iron-rich meals.) Sometimes she would enhance it with some khlii (see Preserved Beef, page 73), or add leafy greens and carrots for a nutritional boost. In this version, I’ve opted for sun-dried tomatoes for their sweet, intense flavor and kale for its earthy notes as well as its nutritional value. The vinegary red onion topping is optional, but it brings an appealing sweet-tart punch to the dish. I usually serve this comforting stew with crusty bread, but rice and quinoa are also good options.
We grow exceptional carrots. Our spring carrots are super sweet, thanks to a combination of the Nantes variety, our rich soil, and the cool Capay Valley spring nights. During harvest, some carrots inevitably break or are cosmetically imperfect. These are perfect for transforming into this delightful spring soup. Jenna
The Iranian festival of Yalda takes place on the winter solstice and is an evening spent sharing poetry and snacking on red fruits such as pomegranates, which symbolize the crimson hues of the sun rising after the longest night. Fesenjan, a sumptuous sweet-and-sour stew made with ground walnuts and pomegranate molasses, is often cooked for this celebration. It is cooked low and slow, and you can tell that it is ready when the nuts release their oils and you see a clear slick of oil sitting on top of the sauce. The timing is dependent on the variety of walnuts you use, so if you’ve reached the end of the suggested cooking time and the oils haven’t released yet, give it another 30 minutes to an hour until they do. Golpar is an earthy, citrusy spice you can source online or in Iranian stores, though you can also make the dish without.
This is inspired by a Roman recipe called pasta e piselli. As is the case with so many Italian dishes, it is deceptively simple but packed full of flavour and is sure to please diners of all ages. Brodo – Italian for broth – is often made with meat stock, so do use a chicken stock here, unless you’re serving to vegetarians. This is a recipe that will welcome a spare Parmesan rind: it will impart so much flavour. Just add it to the liquid as it cooks and discard before serving.
This is one of those simple soups that, after making and enjoying it just once, you won’t even need a recipe for it. The addition of Chinese five-spice, with its combination of star anise, fennel seed, Szechuan pepper, clove and cinnamon, really enhances the humble carrot and apple combination, giving it a well-rounded flavour complexity with minimal effort.
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.
Lisa’s first trip to Dakar was special for many reasons, not least of which was her introduction to my aunt Marie’s sauce feuille. This dish is a genuine representation of my roots—generous, heartwarming, and nourishing in all the right ways. It’s traditionally made with moringa, cassava or sweet potato leaves, and cabbage. Here, I use collard greens, which are easy to find and still create that homey green color and rich, textured flavor, but if you can source the more traditional cassava leaves, use them!