And finally ... the temperature dropped
And finally ... the temperature dropped
Food for comfort and Halloween | 24.10.23
We turned on the heating. Finally. Who in their right mind would welcome this fact? We usually draw out the moment as long as possible, but this time it has been met with tempered trepidation. After weeks of a endlessly warm, humid autumn — finally. Thick coats and simmered food. My daughter asked whether it is now winter. She knows better, but it captures the mood.
And so, comfortingly, it is time to make soup. It’s the excuse to use up vegetables idling around in the kitchen and, caught by surprise, I used what was on hand. Onions and garlic (always there), a full head of celery — stalks, leaves, and all — a few carrots, and a crown prince squash. It made a very good, simple, un-spiced, vegetable-y soup, blended, topped with pumpkin seeds and one of the best autumn things — beads of pumpkin seed oil to finish.
I don’t often follow recipes for soup, but when I do these are some of my favourite, and there are recurring themes.
Gremolata —
Many years ago I ate an unforgettable lentil soup. It was in New York, at ABC Kitchen where Dan Kluger was the chef. The soup had two memorable qualities: it had an assertive backbone of celeriac and was served with a gremolata, finely chopped parsley, garlic, lemon zest, and chili.
Over the years the ghost of that incredible dish enlaced itself in my soup habits, and here are two recorded examples — from 2012 and 2021 — which I still make.
Spicy lentil and red kuri squash soup
Double celery soup with lentils and gremolata
Stock-less soups —
A possible hang up to making soup is the availability, or rather the lack of stock. I love making stock, I love using the stock to make soup, but also, as I’ve ascertained over the years, the absence of stock should not deter from soup.
A soup in shades of green
Five-ingredient pumpkin leek soup
Here the vegetables assert themselves and play off one another to create clear layers of flavour.
HALLOWEEN
Embracing the German idea that ‘Vorfreude (literally ‘pre-joy’) ist die schönste Freude’ — anticipation is the greatest joy — we, ahem, vigorously encouraged by Max, have started decorating the house for Halloween. This prompted a high stakes discussion among the children: ‘But we never decorate the house in advance,’ ‘No one here decorates their house before Halloween,’ ‘No, no, some houses do, I saw some that were already decorated!’ (‘Tis true and I am witness, having had to change course on our way home from school to be sure to pass by the Halloween houses). I agree, it is nice seeing spooky houses at this time of year, it reminds us of New York, and elicits ‘pre-joy’. And at least half the fun of Halloween is opening the door to trick or treaters and handing out candy (mini chocolate bars in our case). So decorations have begun. The entrance will descend into dereliction. Fallen leaves in the back garden will be meticulously swept and then dumped gleefully all over our front stoop. Bats and skeletons watch over the street from the dining room windows. The low wrought iron gate and our fledgling plant pots are slowly being infested by spiderwebs. A mix of low tech home made things and store bought props retrieved each year from the ‘Halloween box.’ Later, pumpkins will be carved and set out, their flickering lights an invitation to the trick or treaters. Halloween needn’t be just a one-day thing.
Cakes, cookies, sausage roll mummies, films to watch, books to read: I gathered our favourite Halloween traditions in one place.
Boo!
