At Long Last -- Chicken Tortilla Soup

I may be the last person on earth to make chicken tortilla soup, let alone eat it.  But it was worth the wait.  (Even though I wish someone would have told me before now just how good it is.  I’ve wasted a lot of time here.)

 

When I announced that we were going to have chicken tortilla soup, our son-in-law said something like, “Oh, we just had that at such-and-such."  And "Didn’t we just make that at home last week, hon?” 

  

And silly me thought this would be novel. For me it was a tad novel because I often just build a soup with what I have on hand.This time I followed a recipe, The Pioneer Woman's.  Almost to the letter! That definitely makes it novel.  

The reason I made this soup – like the reason I make a lot of things – was not so much based on a grand plan or my weekly menu.  Nope.  It was just because I had a couple fresh jalapenos on hand.  From little jalapenos, great soups grow.

I veered off the printed recipe path only twice:  by using the two measly jalapenos I had in the fridge and by using flour instead of corn tortillas.  No, wait.  I veered three times.  I also didn't cook a chicken; I used rotisserie chicken from the supermarket. Next time I will use the corn tortillas. More authentic. And . . . I'd be following the recipe!

I didn’t realize – although I certainly should have – that the tortillas, when cut into skinny strips, would behave just like fettuccine noodles. Sometimes it doesn’t take much to amuse me.

Chicken Tortilla Soup

slightly adapted from The Pioneer Woman

3 cups cooked chicken, shredded

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 cup diced onion

¼ cup diced red pepper

¼ cup diced green pepper

2 jalapenos, diced

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 teaspoon cumin

1 teaspoon chili powder

1 can (10 ounce) Rotel tomatoes and green chilies

32 ounces low sodium chicken broth

3 tablespoons tomato paste

4 cups hot water

2 cans (15 ounce) black beans, drained and rinsed

3 tablespoons cornmeal

5 whole tortillas (flour or corn) cut into uniform strips, about 2 inches long 

  

Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat.  Add onions, red and green peppers, jalapenos and minced garlic.  Stir and begin cooking, then add cumin and chili powder. Stir to combine and add the shredded chicken.  Stir again.

Add Rotel, chicken broth, tomato paste, water and beans.  Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer.  Simmer for 45 minutes, uncovered. 

Mix cornmeal with a small amount of water to make a paste and add to the soup.  Simmer for another 30 minutes. Check seasoning, adding more chili powder if needed.  Turn off heat and allow to sit for 15 to 20 minutes.  Five minutes before serving gently stir in the tortilla strips.

Garnish with any or all of the following:  sour cream, shredded cheese, diced red onion, chopped scallions, cilantro, avocado.

Winter Vegetables and Bulgur: The Last Soup of Winter (I hope, I hope, I hope!)

Punxsutawney Phil has come and gone, March 21st has been crossed off the calendar, my daffodils are desperately trying to poke through, the geese have come to the pond. Spring is teasing us all over the place. But we woke up to snow-covered ground this morning! What’s wrong with this picture? Even the robins look confused. Calls for another day of soup!

I want spring to come as badly as anyone. It’s been a long, gray, cold winter. Again. And the only thing I’ll miss about winter is that I won’t feel like making wonderful soups like this. I’m itching to get outside, wash the windows (!), clean up the perennial flower bed, getting the vegetable garden ready. (Although, I have to be admit, if there’s a kinda cool, little rainy, pretty gray summer day, I can be found making soup.)

In the meantime, I’m enjoying this hearty, warming and filling soup. My sister recommended this soup after another guest brought it to her new condo group’s monthly potluck. She loved it and I was anxious to try it, too. I had more than enough bulgur in the pantry and plenty of vegetables on hand. I even had the herbs de Provence the recipe called for; didn’t have to substitute my own mixture.

But I decided to make it the day I also decided it was high time I saw my three-week old new nephew. I called his mother and announced I was bringing lunch, too. She told me her husband had the day off and would be extra delighted that Mr. Rosemary might be along, too. Hmmm, I got to thinking, two big men just might not think this vegetarian soup would be hearty enough. So, without making a trip to the store, what could I do?

Since this isn’t my first rodeo, I have gotten in the habit of stashing a few freezer packets for just such moments. I decide to add about ¼ cup of chopped bacon and abut ½ cup of cooked chicken. That was all the soup needed to make it “manly.” Pretty quick to make and easy to tote.

In the end, Mr. Rosemary couldn’t make it, but the proud new daddy did – and I’m pretty sure the little bit of bacon did it.

Winter Vegetables and Bulgur
adapted from Bon Appetit 2006

2 tablespoons olive oil
4 cups ¾ inch pieces of root vegetables, peeled and chopped  (like carrots, turnips, celery root, parsnips – I  used carrots, parsnips, and turnips; wish I could have found golden beets)
2 cups chopped onions
4 cups vegetable broth
1 rounded teaspoon herbes de Provence
1 ½ cup bulgur (about 8 ounces)
1 6-ounce package baby spinach leaves
¼ cup cooked bacon pieces
½ cup cooked and chopped chicken pieces

Heat oil in a heavy large pot over high heat. Add root vegetables and onions. Sauté until beginning to brown, about 10 minutes. Add vegetable broth and herbes de Provence’ bring to boil. Add bulgur, bacon and chicken pieces; cover pot and reduce heat to low. Simmer until bulgur is almost tender, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes. Add spinach; stir until wilted, about 1 minute. Taste and add salt and/or pepper if you want.

"Goat's Beard" Soup

As I was making this luscious, velvety smooth and just-rich-enough Cream of Leek and Potato Soup, I was struck at what a pretty color it was: a lovely pastel green with a hint of yellow. It looked familiar and comforting. And it didn’t take me long to figure out why: it’s the color of my kitchen walls!

The paint chip was labeled “Goat’s Beard,” and I never really gave the name a second thought. It was the light shade of green I wanted to blend with the deeper sage green (called “Washed Khaki’) in the adjoining dining room and office/den, and coordinated perfectly with the golden orange (called “Himalayan Paw”) that accented the bulkhead all around. That Martha Stewart can get pretty creative even with paint names.

I merely thought these were unique names. Now I had to look up “goat’s beard.” It’s a perennial plant (aruncus dioicus) and the color of the flower does indeed look like my kitchen walls. (I learned this from my favorite perennial supplier, Bluestone Perennials, who happily shared this picture with me. Bluestone, based in Madison, Ohio, incidentally, ships anywhere at the right time for growing. Great greenhouse.)

I can figure out what Washed Khaki describes, but Himalayan Paw? Has to be a strange big cat, right? Kinda. It’s a popular Persian cat, although not big, but the colors of the pads, or paws, can vary widely. The closest thing I found to the color of my bulkhead was cinnamon-pink. Close enough.

Back to the soup.

I was inspired to make this soup thanks to The Splendid Table, the National Public Radio program hosted by Lynn Rossetto Kasper and Sally Swift. I subscribe to the weekly e-newsletter that never fails to offer something unique, but doable, for a weeknight. Highly recommend it. They were inspired by Julia Child. Imagine! All these great cooks right alongside me as I whipped up this soup and awed at my own walls!

As you can see, the recipe is not really a recipe, more like a framework, arming one with the right proportions to embellish to one’s heart content. I didn’t get carried away. Chopped chives was it. Next time, who knows.

I’m loving my new immersion blender. Making pureed soups like this is a piece of cake now. No transferring from pot to processor, in portions, and back again to the pot. No chance for spillage. It’s the best little appliance I ever introduced to my little kitchen, which can’t stand one more thing on the counter, or to store in the cupboard. A little rearranging was all it took to keep the new blender handy but hidden.

Master Recipe for Leek and Potato Soup
Adapted by The Splendid Table from Julia’s Kitchen Wisdom: Essential Techniques and Recipes from a Lifetime of Cooking, By Julia Child

Makes about 2 quarts, serving 6

3 cups sliced leeks, white and tender green parts
3 cups peeled and roughly chopped “baking” potatoes
6 cups water
11/2 teaspoons salt
½ cup sour cream or crème fraiche, optional

Bring ingredients to the boil in a 3 quart saucepan. Cover partially and simmer, until vegetables are tender. Correct seasoning. Serve as is, or puree and/or top each portion with a dollop of the cream.

Cream of Leek and Potato Soup: After simmering the soup, puree it and whisk in ½ cup heavy cream. Reheat to the simmer again before serving.

Other variations:

• Substitute onions for leeks
• Add a bunch of watercress to the base soup for the last few minutes of cooking before pureeing.
• Add anything else you have on hand, such as cauliflower, broccoli, green peas, spinach, raw or cooked, making it your house soupe du jour. (Actually, I did this, adding broccoli stalks, asparagus stalks, spinach leaves not pretty enough for a salad, etc., and, frankly, the color just couldn’t match my goat’s beard, so I’m sticking with leeks and potatoes!)

Here's my favorite picture hanging on my Goat's Beard kitchen wall.  Thanks, Amy!

A Simple Bayou Stew, with a Side of Jewelry

I used to work with a graphic artist who did the same thing every time we were discussing a project: He’d draw a triangle -- wherever, on a board, on a piece of paper, a napkin -- and he’d label the corners Good, Fast and Cheap. Then he’d say, “You can have two of these, but you can’t have all three!”

Didn't believe it then, and I don't believe it now, especially when it comes to cooking. 

It is possible -- quite possible – to make good food and make it well and quickly. It does take a little planning, a few things in the pantry, some effort, a bit of imagination.

But none of that means a whole lot of money or time. It might take a modicum of skill, but only a modicum. And with a little practice, a little repetition, that skill feeds itself along with the growing knowledge of what complements what.  Fresh ingredients are a big plus, but often, armed simple staples – rice, onion, a pepper, an egg or two, garlic and soy sauce -- one pan and twenty minutes, you can make a great dish like fried rice. And something as simple as keeping a jar of capers or chipotle in adobo sauce on hand can transform simple into exotic.

My step-daughter Krista and her husband Dan are like a lot of young parents who, after a full day of work, would rather spend time with their two pre-school (and lively!) boys or working on a home improvement project than cooking. (Can't blame them; those boys are pretty darn adorable!)

But they still want to eat well – healthily, inexpensively, and without a lot of time in the kitchen, something that everyone (even a sometimes finicky four year-old) -- will eat, and without getting stuck in a rut. Got to hand it to them, they’ve honed some pretty good habits to do that: shopping in bulk, stocking the freezer and pantry, keeping shopping lists, and planning weekly menus they actually post!

On a visit to their house several weeks ago, while Grandpa and I were busy playing with the boys, Krista and Dan slipped into the kitchen and whipped up this simple and very good soup/stew. They served it with some great bread and it was a wonderful lunch!

They told me the recipe came from a cookbook I’d given them some time ago: Cheap, Fast, Good! The authors, Beverly Mills and Alicia Ross, have assembled hundreds of dishes to make great food cheaply, along a whole lot of good advice about getting the most for your dollar. (I hear inflation’s coming!) The recipes are very family friendly, too. You can further healthy-up this recipe by using turkey kielbasa and low-sodium beef broth.

One of the reasons Krista needs all her spare time is so she can work on her hand-made jewelry, available on her etsy.com site. Classy and elegant stuff. She’s talented and imaginative with her designs.  I love her stuff!  Before taking a look at the recipe, take a look at this sampling; and be sure to visit her Behind the Moon etsy shop and her blog.

Bayou Stew
from Cheap, Fast, Good!

1 cup long grain rice
2/3 pound skinless boneless chicken breasts
2 tablespoons butter
2 large onions
8 ounces kielbasa sausage
1 medium sized green pepper (about 1 cup chopped)
2 cans (14 oz each) beef broth
2 teaspoons Cajun blend seasoning
2 tablespoons flour

For Rice: Bring 2 cups lightly salted water to boil in a covered saucepan. Add the rice. Stir and reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer until rice is tender, about 20 minutes.
Melt butter in 4 ½ qt Dutch oven over medium heat. Peel onion and finely chop them, adding to the pot as you chop. Cut the chicken into bite size pieces adding them to the pot as you chop. When all the chicken has been added, raise the heat to medium high. Cook stirring until the chicken is almost cooked through, about 4-5 minutes. Meanwhile cut the sausage in half lengthwise, the slice both halves into roughly ¼ in pieces.
Add broth to the pot, raise the heat to high and add the bell pepper, cover the pot and bring the soup to a boil.  Add Cajun seasoning and cook at a moderate boil until the green pepper is tender, about 3 minutes. (Uncover the pot partially if pot begins to boil over.)

In small jar with lid, mix flour with 3 tablespoons cold tap water. Cover jar and shake well until the mixture is combined and the lumps have disappeared. Gradually add the flour mixture to the soup stirring constantly until the soup has thickened slightly. Remove the pan from the heat. Divide the hot cooked rice among four large soup bowls and ladle soup over the rice and serve at once.  Four generous servings.

A Failed Dinner Becomes a 4 Star Lunch

Although I called my chicken roulade a failure, my husband disagreed. Actually, what he said (and I wouldn’t make this up!) as he waltzed into the kitchen while I was cooking was, “You’re amazing!”

Now what cook doesn’t want to hear that?

He was impressed that despite the fact that we’d been out all day, we were still about to enjoy a nice dinner, not just our usual impromptu frittata, all because I’d done some prep work in the morning before we left the house.

And I was pretty pleased with myself, too.  My chicken roulade was going to have a lightened up filling of Neufchatel cheese, spinach, and dried tomatoes spread on a thin layer of ham on top of the chicken breast.  

I’d done everything right – pounded the chicken breasts, made the filling, got my assembly line going, rolled the filled chicken pieces, tied them, spread them on a baking pan. Popped them in the fridge. Ready to go. I also cleaned and prepared broccoli for a simple side.

So when we got home, all I would have to do was roll the breasts in a little seasoned flour, and cook them in a bit of butter and olive oil on the stove while the broccoli steamed. We’d be eating in fifteen minutes.

Wrong.

Something went awry, not dangerously so, just enough to ruin my image of perfectly fanned pinwheels of chicken on the plate. What happened was this: Despite the steps I’d taken, I hadn’t made sure the chicken was evenly pounded, so when I sliced the perfectly browned rolls of chicken, I found pinkness here and there. In too much of a hurry to make sure it was right.

So I had to put them back in the pan and cook them more and in the process they lost their shape, not their taste, just their good looks.

The chicken un-roulade tasted great and I didn’t screw up the broccoli, dressed with a little lemon zest, butter and a sprinkle of red chile pepper. My husband couldn’t say enough good things about the dinner, commenting only that he wished there was more cheese.

And we tasted it all again in the next day’s soup!

All I had to do was chop up the remaining chicken pieces and filling, along with the leftover broccoli, a bit of cooked rice (kept in the freezer for just such soup-making), chicken broth and some green onions for the ta-da finish. The bit of cheese gave the soup just a smidgen of creaminess and all the other bits of red and green flavored bits tumbled together with the chicken, broccoli and rice for a colorful mélange of flavors. I could barely detect the little bit of nutmeg I’d added to the spinach filling giving just a delicate hint of spice.

I could not have planned it better. If I had, I might have given it five stars – and a name.