Nuts to Soup | Roasted Chestnut Soup with Thyme Cream

I never imagined that I'd be making soup from nuts -- I always thought of nuts as an additive, a very nice additive, but not the main part of anything, except for snacking. (And maybe my favorite pistachio ice cream.) But I've learned that chestnut soup is a very traditional fall soup, and a staple at many a Thanksgiving table.

It's a great soup.  It's rich, smooth and creamy, without cream. It gets its richness straight from the sweet chestnuts, which, I also learned is low in calories and has all kinds of other good things going for them, like they're the only nut that has Vitamin C. And they're gluten-free.

The only bad thing I can say about this recipe is that roasting and peeling the nuts is a bit of a chore. But it's worth the effort and certainly can be done ahead of time.

We're lucky to have a neighbor who gave us a couple chestnut tree saplings that finally bore fruit last year.  This was not a good year for our own trees but our neighbor still shared some of his.

The original recipe called for bottled chestnuts, which I've never even looked for in a store.  But at this time of year, chestnuts show up in many produce departments.

I  first posted this recipe about a year ago when I guest posted at Eat Yourself Skinny.  And I realized I never posted it here. So here you go . . . .



Roasted Chestnut Soup with Thyme Cream
adapted from Cooking Light
makes 10 servings

3 cups whole roasted (or bottled) chestnuts
2 cups chopped yellow onion
3/4 cup thinly sliced carrot
1 Tbsp olive oil
6 cups fat-free, lower-sodium chicken broth
5/8 tsp. kosher salt, divided
1/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons sherry (optional)
1/3 cup heavy whipping cream
1 1/2 tsp. chopped fresh thyme leaves

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

Prepare the chestnuts.  Cut an X in the bottom of each chestnut. Place chestnuts on a jelly-roll pan and bake for 15 minutes.  Place chestnuts in large bowl and cool to room temperature. When cool enough to handle, peel the shells from the chestnuts.  (If you can find bottled or vacuum packed chestnuts, no need for this step!)

Prepare the puree.  Combine onion, carrot and oil on same jelly-roll pain.  Toss to coat the vegetables.  Bake for 1/2 hour or until tender, stirring occasionally.  Add the chestnuts in bowl and stir in broth.  Pour half the mixture into a blender and blend until smooth.  Pour the pureed mixture into a large pot.  Repeat procedure with remaining broth mixture.  Or, if you're lucky enough to have an immersion blender, put everything into the large pot and puree it all at once in the pot.  Stir in the 1/2 teaspoon salt and pepper.  Place pot over medium high heat and bring to a simmer, then reduce heat and simmer 20 minutes. Add the sherry, if you like.

Prepare the whipped cream.  Place cream in medium bowl and beat with a hand mixer at high speed until soft peaks form.  Add remaining 1/8 teaspoon salt and beat at high speed until stiff peaks form.

Serve.  Ladle soup into bowls and top serving with about a teaspoon of whipped cream.  Sprinkle with thyme and serve.

I'm Thankful for Convenience Food

At the risk of ostracizing myself from my food blogging friends, one of the things I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving is convenience food. That statement goes against every foodie* fiber in my body. But it’s true.

I have a royal ball in the kitchen whether I’m by myself or with company and I love to cook with fresh ingredients and making good ol’ home-made meals from scratch, but I’d be lost without frozen puff pastry, canned tomatoes, or tomato paste in a tube. Or canned artichokes, canned beans or dried spices. Or dried pasta in every shape imaginable or seasoned bread crumbs or boxed chicken broth or bagged lettuce mixes. I like to roast my own red peppers, but jarred ones are pretty darn good. Making my own pastry (well, when it turns out okay) is terrific, but refrigerated dough will often do just fine. I admire people who make their own pumpkin puree, but when canned is so easy, and good, why?

I take great pleasure in planting and tending my own vegetable garden and then reaping the harvest. I buy most of my groceries at a family-owned supermarket that I know buys a lot of fresh food locally. Making and canning my own spaghetti sauce is more satisfying than I would have imagined. Picking my own salad greens in the morning and then having them for lunch is just delightful. We have apple trees and blueberry bushes. My eggs come from my neighbor’s chickens (a few of whom, I’m ashamed to say, my Weimeraner killed.)

I’m a pretty frugal cook: I save leftovers and reprise them into frittatas, soups and anything else I can dream up. I save bones to make my own chicken stock. (Although not always.) And my kitchen is pretty well-equipped – there’s always something new I’ll want! -- with all the tools and appliances I need to do all that.

Still, I can be a lazy cook. And despite the fact that the kitchen is my favorite room in the house, it’s not the only room. We’re all busy people and I’m thankful that on a particularly busy day, I can go into the kitchen and between my refrigerator and pantry, I can whip up a pretty good and healthy meal in 20 minutes. Or, if I plan ahead well enough, my husband and I can come home to a slow-cooker meal, getting the comfort whiffs of a fragrant pot roast as soon as we open the door.

I also am not unaware of the irony that at this season of thanksgiving when we traditionally express our appreciation for all our blessings, especially food, that many people do not have the privilege of arguing over what kind of food is the best, the tastiest, the healthiest. I appreciate all the food science and enterprising manufacturers who make cooking easy and fun for me. I am very thankful that I have the choice to be a lazy cook now and again – and a can opener to be lazy with.

* I still hate the word “foodie” - can’t we come up with something that doesn’t make me sound like a rock-and-roll band groupie? I’m not a gourmet, not an epicurean. I’m a pretty good cook and I like to cook and try new things. I guess that makes me a foodie, but I still don’t like it.