Curried Pumpkin Soup

This is the second post in a series: "what to do with a ten-pound pumpkin."

I finally decided to cook the pumpkin that had been sitting on our countertop since the final U Street Farmers Market of 2010.  That is, since late November.  (Yes, winter squash really does keep that long.)

It was my first experience with this variety of pumpkin.  I can’t remember what the producer said it was called.  I only remember that he said it was one of his favorites.  And since it was the end of the season, we got the whole thing – all ten pounds of it – for something like 2 or 3 dollars… I keep wanting to call it a Cinderella pumpkin because of it’s folklore-ish charm, but upon further research, I found that it’s definitely not a pumpkin of the Cinderella variety.   It might, however, be a “fairytale” pumpkin.  Maybe someone can correct my rudimentary pumpkin classification skills.

It was also my first experience cooking a pumpkin of this magnitude.  Starting with close to ten pounds, I ended up with about 6 pounds (10 cups) of roasted pumpkin puree.  It’s a lot, but certainly not more I know what to do with.  I have a laundry list of pumpkin dishes I’d like to try, hence this series.  First up: curried pumpkin soup.

Curried Pumpkin Soup (made with fresh pumpkin)

Serves 4 to 6.

3 cups (24 oz) roasted pumpkin puree (see below)
vegetable oil for roasting and frying (I used grapeseed.)
4 cups pumpkin broth (see below)
1 ½ cups low sodium chicken (or vegetable) broth  
              or 1 teaspoon broth concentrate (such as “Better than Bouillon”) + 1 ½ cups water
1 medium red onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
¾ fine sea salt
¼ teaspoon ground white pepper
1 ½ teaspoons curry powder
1 tablespoon heavy cream

Roasting Pumpkin
Preheat oven to 400°F.

Cut pumpkin into manageable sections (4 to 8 pieces, depending on pumpkin’s size).  Scoop out seeds and fibers and reserve for later use.

Brush or rub pumpkin with oil and place flesh down in a large roasting pan or half sheet pan.



Roast until pumpkin is fork-tender (30 to 45 minutes, depending on size of pieces).  Once pumpkin has finished roasting, set aside to cool.  



When roasted pumpkin is cool enough to handle, scoop out flesh from skin using a spoon.  Use a knife to remove any remaining skin. 

Puree pumpkin in a food processor until smooth, in batches if necessary.  (Pumpkin will keep in the refrigerator for several days or in the freezer for several months.)

Pumpkin Broth
While the pumpkin is roasting, prepare the broth.  In a medium-size pot, combine pumpkin seed and fibers, about 1/4 of the onion, and 5 cups of water.  Bring to boil.  Reduce heat and allow to simmer for at least 30 minutes, skimming any scum off the top, as necessary.  Season with 1/2 teaspoon salt.  Strain through a fine mesh strainer and discard solids.

Pumpkin Soup
In a medium size pot, heat about 2 teaspoons of oil over medium heat.  Add remaining onion and sauté until translucent, about 5 minutes.  Add minced garlic and cook another minute.

Add pumpkin puree, pumpkin broth, and chicken broth (or concentrate+water).  Bring to boil. 

Reduce heat and allow to simmer for cook for 15-20 minutes.  If soup is too thick, thin with water as necessary.  Season with white pepper, 1/4 teaspoon sea salt, and curry powder.  Taste for seasoning (and add more if desired). 

Stir in cream just before serving.

October in November

Several weeks ago, we had November in October.  This week it’s October in November.

I recently went to the 14&U farmers' market looking for the fresh lima beans I had seen at previous markets.  They didn’t have any lima beans, but they did have another fresh bean, which the seller at Garner's Produce told us were called “October beans” and extolled the virtues of  their rich, earthy flavor and meaty texture.  At $5 for a 1-pound bag, they were a bit pricey, but we thought it might be worth it to give them a try.  (And considering that they can replace the meat in a meal and last the two of us two meals apiece, it wasn’t a bad investment.)  Our friend at Garner wasn’t kidding about how delicious they are.  We went back for two more bags this past Saturday.

Their more complex flavor and meaty texture notwithstanding, cooking with fresh beans was such a pleasure.  It was so easy just to come home from work, throw a few ingredients in a pot and have dinner an hour later. 

I was curious to know more about these so-called October beans, so I did a little looking around on the internet.  As it turns out, they are the very same beans my grandmother used to grow in her garden!  They’re the ones I wrote about last year when I made my grandmother’s soup.  My mother vaguely remembered that they were called “horticulture beans,” but neither of us knew where to find them.

They answer to many names, including October beans, horticulture beans, horticultural beans, French horticultural beans, cranberry beans, speckled cranberry beans, shelly beans, shell beans, and wren’s egg beans, to name a few.

Mystery solved!  I thought.    When I looked at pictures, I realized that they may not be quite the same thing – but they did seem to be called by the same set of names. 

Back at the market this past Saturday, I asked the producer about this apparent discrepancy and he explained that, when fully mature, his beans would also be speckled like the ones I had seen online.  He was having to pick them before fully mature this year because they were late to ripen because of the weather.  (Or something to that effect. I don’t remember his exact words.)  Second mystery solved.

Then I remembered a image from our recent trip to Italy:  Could these also be the same beans we had seen at the market in Venice? 

There, they were simply called “beans,” but their shells look awfully similar to those of October beans…

It makes me so happy to have discovered these beans again.  When I spoke to my mother this evening and told her I had found horticulture beans, she was equally thrilled (which also makes me happy).

For our first taste of October beans, I wanted try something simple, so that the flavor of the beans would shine through.

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October Bean Soup
printable recipe

5 oz. center-cut bacon, cut into small pieces
1 small or ½ large onion (yellow or red), chopped
2 small carrots, chopped
14 oz. fresh October Beans*
2 cups chicken broth
6 cups water
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
6 oz. short pasta, whole wheat or homemade**
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

*If you can’t find October beans, you may substitute another white bean, such as cannellini. If beans are dried, they should be soaked overnight.  If they’re canned, reduce water by about half and reduce cooking time to about 20 minutes.
**Whenever possible, I prefer to use homemade egg pasta like my grandmother did.  If I have homemade spaghetti or fettucine on hand, I break it into smaller (2- to 3-inch) pieces before adding it to the soup. This is also a great place to use the small scraps from a batch of longer pasta.

In a large pot (I use a Dutch oven), cook the bacon over medium heat until mostly cooked.  Add the chopped vegetables and sauté, stirring occasionally, until the onions are translucent. 

Add the beans, broth, and water and bring to a boil.  Reduce to a simmer and cook for 45 minutes to 1 hour, until beans reach the desired consistency.  Stir frequently and add additional water, as needed.  When the beans are almost cooked, season with salt and pepper.

Increase heat slightly to bring the soup make to a full boil.  Add the pasta and cook just until al dente. Do not overcook because the pasta will continue to soften in the hot soup.  (Homemade, dried fettuccine will cook in about 3 minutes, while the whole wheat pasta we used takes 10-11 minutes.)

Variation: The second time around, I made variation similar to my grandma’s soup. (These are the same beans she used, after all.) I added 2-3 teaspoons of tomato paste and a couple dashes of white wine vinegar just before adding the pasta.  This was intended to mimic her addition of ketchup to the broth.  It came very close.  Next time I might try adding a teaspoon of brown sugar (since ketchup is basically tomatoes, vinegar, and sugar).

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The first time around, we used whole wheat pasta: 

The second batch, made with homemade fettuccine:

hello, fall: ham and bean soup

Today is the first day of fall that actually feels like fall!  We woke up to a cool, drizzly Sunday, and after three days of 90-degree weather, it’s a welcome change.

As my self-proclaimed idea guy, Brian is always dreaming up things he’d like me to cook.  Often they’re inspired by ingredients we have on hand and other times they’re dredged up from childhood memories in his parents’ kitchens or restaurants around St. Louis.  When the weather turned cooler a few weeks ago, Brian decided that he wanted ham and bean soup like his dad used to make.  Since we recently decided to try to avoid canned food, I was excited to cook with dried beans for the first time (super easy and cheaper than canned beans).  The search for a smoked ham hock for the base of the soup brought me to Eastern Market for the first time in over 2 years (and the second time since I’ve lived in DC).   I appreciate the market even more this time than I did two years ago, and I’m planning to make it a regular stop!  It’s so refreshing to find real butchers.  (Not like the ones at the grocery store, who looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language when I asked for a ham hock.)

The recipe below is based upon instructions from Brian’s dad, with a few of my own tweaks.

Ham and Cannellini Bean Soup
printable recipe

1 pound dried cannellini beans
1 smoked ham hock
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/2 medium onion, chopped
1 large stalk celery, chopped
2 medium carrots, peeled and chopped
2 bay leaves
2 cups fully cooked ham, diced (about 1/2 pound)
freshly ground black pepper
salt, as needed

The night before making the soup, pick through the beans and discard any that are wrinkled or discolored.  Then rinse the beans and soak overnight in a pot with 6 cups of water. 

Drain the beans.

In a large pot or Dutch oven,  cover the ham hock with water by about 2 inches.  Bring to boil.  Reduce heat slightly and maintain a gentle boil for 1 hour, adding water as necessary to cover ham. 

    After about 45 minutes, sauté chopped vegetables over medium heat with about 1 tablespoon vegetable oil, until vegetables are tender and just begin to brown.

Add the vegetables, bay leaves, and drained beans to the pot with the ham hock.

Cover and boil for another 1.5 to 3 hours, until the beans reach desired tenderness and ham hock is falling off the bone, like so:

During approximately the last 1/2 hour of cooking, add the diced ham. 

Before serving, remove bay leaves and ham hock from soup.  Discard skin, fat, and bone,  Chop remaining ham and add back to the pot. 

Season with freshly ground black pepper and salt, if needed (ours didn’t need any additional salt).

    

Serve with cornbread, an onion wedge, and a small mound of sea salt.*

*The McCue method for eating ham and bean soup:

- Take one layer of onion wedge.
- Dip onion in salt.
- Bite onion.
- Take a bite of soup.
- (I was scared at first, too.  But it was quite tasty and fun!)

Happy Autumn!

Grandma’s Soup (Fall Back, Part 3)

October 1, 2009

No one knows the exact history of this soup, except that my mother’s family has been making it for a long time.  Whether my grandmother or her mother or some previous  generation originated the recipe I am not sure, but it has since been passed down through my mother to my sisters and me.  It’s something like what Americans think of as “Tuscan bean soup” or “pasta e fagioli”: a rustic, inexpensive but filling soup of homemade pasta, vegetables, and beans.  The perfect meal for those days when you’re short on cash or abstaining from meat.  Or if you just feel like a hug from your grandma who may not be around anymore…

Some of my most vivid memories of visits to my grandparents’ farm in Northwest Arkansas are of this soup.  We always arrived late in the evening, and Grandma always had a pot of soup keeping warm on the stove for us.  As we groggily stumbled through the door, disoriented by the long car ride, the  first thing I would notice was the familiar aroma of Grandma’s soup.  Sitting around the table with a hot bowl of soup and a few saltine crackers or a slice of homemade bread was the perfect welcome. 

The first time I ever made this soup was during my junior year of undergrad, about two years after my grandmother had passed away.  I remember standing over the stove in a townhouse I shared with two friends, waiting for the soup to come together.  The moment that familiar smell hit my nose, it brought me to tears.  It’s still one of the most significant cooking moments of my life.  I remember thinking how amazing it was that something so simple could be so powerful, that the aroma of this soup could affect me so deeply and make me feel like I was right back in Grandma’s kitchen. 

Even now it brings back so many memories:   My adult relatives crowded around the table after dinner playing cards and my grandmother’s laugh.   Snipping fresh green beans on the front porch with Grandma.  Picking blackberries for cobbler.  Exploring the “timber.”  Tractor rides.  Getting unexpectedly snowed in and Grandpa building us a sled from scratch. Playing on bales stacked to the top of the hay barn in the late Fall and our disappointment  in finding the barn empty come Spring.   

There’s certainly a part of me that longs for those days.  I would appreciate so many things about my grandparents’ way of life  so much more now.   Vegetables came straight from the garden, and those that weren’t eaten fresh my grandma canned for the winter.  Grandpa’s cows grazed freely in large, open pastures.   The recent movement towards eating locally and reports on the significant health benefits of grass-fed beef make me think of the farm.  Whenever I succeed in doing something like not buying bread in over a month (baking it myself), I feel that in some small way, I am closer to them and the spirit of simpler times.  Maybe someday I’ll even have a vegetable garden of my own.

Pasta e Fagioli alla Nonna (Grandma’s Soup)
printable recipe

2-3 tbsp. olive oil
1 medium onion, diced
2 cans cannellini beans*, undrained
3-4 chicken bouillon cubes (I use 3-4 tsp. “Better than Bouillon”)
2 medium potatoes**, peeled and chopped
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
~1/3 cup ketchup
Homemade pasta (about 3 cups)
Salt and pepper to taste
Dash of oregano

In a large soup pot heat 2-3 tbsp olive oil.  Sauté onion, stirring occasionally.


Meanwhile, mash 1 can of beans with a potato masher or fork.  (This will make for a nice, thick broth!)

 
When onions are translucent, add mashed beans and 4 cups water.  Bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally.

 

Add chicken bouillon, stir to dissolve.  Add vegetables and second can of beans.  Stir in ketchup and a dash of oregano.
Cook until vegetables are tender.
Add pasta and cook about 10 minutes more. 
Season with salt and pepper to taste.

* My grandmother used something called “horticulture beans,” but since they are not easy to find, cannellini, great northern, and pinto beans (or a combination of the above) can be used. 

 

**  I always add (frozen) green peas and sometimes leave out the potatoes in favor of more green vegetables.