My Favorite Black Bean Soup

And with a suddenness that has once again caught me off guard, the darkest time of year is here.

Meanwhile, our family has been furiously celebrating the light within, mostly through festivals at Kingston's school. Michaelmas, to remember our courage when we are faced with dark times; Martinmas (and its corresponding Lantern Walk), to make external our inner light, our lanterns guiding us in the darkness.

These activities were designed to remind us -- children and grown ups both - that though we may be faced with the unknown, we have the ability to summon strength and courage, light and goodness from inside ourselves. These festivals help us to remember again and again that light and dark each have their time as they move through the seasons, like the earth breathing in before exhaling again.

This has been good for me to remember, especially in the past several weeks. Since the night of November 8th, I've been mucking through, trying to sort out my feelings about our general collective state. I've been doing this, like more than half of the people in this country, because the candidate I threw in with did not win.

We are joined together in whatever happens next, no doubt about that. This makes it more important than ever for us to connect with those around us through conversation and shared experiences, good food and open minds.

Neighbors, friends, acquaintances and family. It doesn't take much. Invite them in for soup. Let it soothe us as we take comfort in one another's company. Together, we are resilient.

Comforting Black Bean Soup
This is the soup I could eat every day, rain or shine, whether I'm feeling happy, sad or worried about nothing and everything. It is extremely simple and requires pretty much no attention once you have thrown all the ingredients in the pot. If you want to make this vegan, simply omit the pork and throw in a piece of kombu to add that extra umami flavor that the pork otherwise gives this.

Adapted from The Kitchn.

Serves 4-6.

Ingredients
1 lb. dried black beans
2 medium red onions, finely chopped
1 red peppers, finely chopped
5 garlic cloves, finely chopped
3-4 slices thick-cut bacon (or substitute 1 large piece of kombu)
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 teaspoons salt
Black pepper
1/3 cup apple cider vinegar

Garnishes
Chopped cilantro
Chopped jalapeno
Chopped onion or scallion
Sour cream or grated cheese
Hot sauce (such as Tapatio or Cholula)

Instructions
Pick through beans, removing any stones or debris. In a large container, cover beans with a good 2 to 3 inches of water. Allow to soak overnight.

The following day, drain beans. Place in a large pot. Cover with about an inch of filtered water. Add onions, peppers, garlic, bacon, oil, salt and a generous amount of black pepper. Over high heat, bring the pot to boil then turn down to low simmer. Allow to simmer covered for 3 1/2 to 4 hours. At this point, the beans will be quite soft. Use a potato masher to gently press down on the beans. This will break down some of the beans while leaving some texture. If you are using kombu, the seaweed will have melted into your soup by this point. Continue to simmer 15 to 20 minutes then add vinegar. Cook an additional 15 minutes to mellow out the vinegar. Serve with garnishes and a dash of Mexican-style hot sauce if desired. This is great with cornbread.

The soup keeps for several days and continues to improve in flavor, as bean dishes often do. It will thicken up after refrigeration. Sometimes I add a little water when I warm it up, other times I eat it as is, thick and creamy.

Beef Short Rib and Kimchi Soup

Recently, a bronchial bug took hold of our household. We stayed in for days, glancing occasionally out the window as the cherry plum tree in our back yard slowly blossomed. At the beginning of the week, buds were visibly emerging from bare stems. Just four days later, the tree was filled in with blooms like a girl wearing hundreds of poofy pink bows in her hair, ready for a party.

Maybe it was the sight of the blossoms, or the appearance of blue skies two (two!) days in a row. Either way, we definitely started to feel more energetic. After lunch on the second day, we happened to look out the window to see a flash of bright yellow. Kingston immediately recognized it.

"Wood chipper!" He yelled running toward the door.

"Put on some shoes!" I shouted, "And a jacket!"

He stumbled over the piles of sneakers, boots and slippers in the front hallway and managed to shove his bare feet into a pair of snow boots. I hurled a jacket at him, and threw one on myself. Oh! And shoes. 

When we reach the cul-de-sac a minute later, we could see the city parks department guys already working, cutting off branches from a slightly tilted alder tree. One guy clutched a pole saw while the other worked from the high reaches of a cherry picker bucket. 

We watched from a safe distance and ended up staying for at least two hours, perched together on the edge of the curb. Kingston hardly took his eyes away from the whole operation while asking me question after question:

Q: "What that black thing on top of that part over there?" (Asked while pointing to the bright yellow woodchipping machine with the name "The Bandit" stenciled on its side.)
A: "Maybe that is part of the engine?" (Answered with a hopeful shrug.) 

I did my best, keeping in mind what I had once read in the Penelope Leach book, Your Baby and Child. There, Ms. Leach advises that if you don't know the answer to question, try to give one anyway. According to her, it isn't at all reassuring for a young child to hear an adult say, "I don't know." I don't doubt her one bit, as this definitely holds true for myself, an adult. When I have a question, I need answers!

While Kingston and I were still spectating though, one of the tree guys came over to tell us he was going to leave split firewood, cherry and alder, for anyone to take. Kingston declared that we should bring some home. By dinnertime, we had managed to move three Radio Flyer wagon loads up the hill. Then, with our hands, we reached into the wagon and plunked the wood down until we had a helter-skelter pile next to the house.

Hauling wood is tiring. It makes your arms and shoulders ache. It makes your belly rumble. So I was very glad that there was a pot of soup in the house, one I'd made over a couple of days. It is by no means an "authentic" or "traditional" Korean recipe, though the dish it might most be like is kimchi jigae. Rich and umani, this soup is neither too salty nor spicy, and is filled with fall-apart tender beef. It's fortifying and just right for the changing seasons, the return of health and hands on, spirit-lifting work. 

Beef Short Rib and Kimchi Soup
I like what Andy Ricker has to say about "authentic" and "traditional" foods in his Thai-centric cookbook, Pokpok: "The words imply an absolute cuisine...Both terms are nonsensical designations -- as if traditions are the same everywhere, as if they don't change, as if culinary ones don't evolve with particular speed." I wasn't trying for authenticity here. I just wanted to make some that's warming, soothing and super flavorful.

This is a weekend project type of recipe for most people, so do it a bit at a time. For example, cook the onions in the days prior, then the short ribs the day before, maybe squeezed in between other things you happen to be doing around the house. For me, this soup is easiest and most relaxing to make when I do it over a couple of days.

Adapted from thekitchn.com and Momofuku.

Serves 6.

Ingredients
3 large yellow onions, halved and thinly sliced
4 teaspoons neutral oil, divided
2 lbs. beef short ribs, bone in, English cut
8 cups beef broth, divided
6 cups kimchi, preferably napa cabbage or a mix of napa and daikon, roughly chopped
Couple handfuls of dried bonito flakes (katsuobushi)
3 tablespoons mirin, plus more to taste
3/4 cup sliced rice cakes
kosher salt, if needed
fresh black pepper, to taste

scallions, sliced on the diagonal, for garnish
julienned carrots, a couple of handfuls, for garnish

Instructions
For the short ribs:
Sprinkle short ribs with salt. Set aside. 

Heat a dutch oven or other large, lidded pot over a medium-high flame. Add 2 teaspoons oil then the sliced onions. Saute until they begin to soften then lower heat to medium-low, stirring every few minutes so that the onions don't burn. Continue cooking onions in this manner, lowering heat as needed, until they begin to caramelize, about 30 minutes. Remove onions from pot and set aside.

Turn heat to medium-high. Add another teaspoon of oil to pot. Sear the short ribs, allowing each side to brown before turning them using tongs. Once they are well-browned, about 15 minutes, return onions to pan and add 3 cups beef broth. Bring to boil then turn heat to very low, cover tightly and allow to simmer on stovetop for 2-3 hours, checking intermittently to make sure there is enough liquid so that it won't burn. Add broth as needed. You may alternatively cook this in a slow cooker for 8 hours on low. The meat on the ribs will be tender and gelatinous. Remove from bone and cut meat into bite-sized pieces. 

For the soup:
Heat a dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the last teaspoon of oil. Add kimchi, black pepper and bonito flakes and saute until warmed through. Stir in mirin, remaining broth and any remaining juices from the kimchi. Add short ribs, along with the onions and any juices and broth left from cooking the meat. Heat until meat and broth are warmed through. At this point, taste and adjust seasonings. If the soup is overly spicy, you can add a bit more mirin to temper it. Adjust salt and pepper to taste. Once you've adjusted the seasoning to your liking, add the rice cakes to the soup. Cook until the rice cakes are warmed through. 

Ladle into soup bowls and garnish with scallions and carrots. Serve with cooked rice on the side. 

Johnny's Guyanese Beef Curry

When I recently asked my husband, Marc, about his first food memory, he thought for a second then said, "Eating off a banana leaf at a wedding in Guyana." 

Suddenly, I saw him as a boy with large, dark eyes, a mass of wild hair nearly overtaking his face, narrow hands holding an enormous green leaf. I imagined him wearing a look of concentration while his fingers gripped the edges of a vegetal plate weighed down by spoonfuls of curry, pieces of heat-freckled roti resting on top.

The ruckus of happiness, music, and laughter would have nearly swallowed him in this moment. Anyone who has spent any time at a party thrown by a bunch of West Indians knows that these affairs are loud and welcoming, full of joy.

These days, curry is still Marc’s favorite thing to eat, and I know he is happy that I'm sharing this dish. According to him, life is vastly improved when curry is part of it.

I don't disagree. I grew up with my Cantonese mother's curry, a whole chicken hacked to pieces and cooked with starchy potatoes, onions, madras powder and coconut cream, all of it swimming in sauce and drippings. It was rich and full of deep flavor. Even as a kid, I couldn't stop eating it.

While every West Indian cook probably has his or her own version of curry, each with its unique quirks, this is the one I learned to make from Marc’s younger brother, Johnny. I’ve made some minor adjustments, but this is essentially his, even though his one caveat the day he walked me through this was that he never makes it exactly the same way twice. 

For me, food is like invisible netting. It has the ability to keep me held together when all the loose parts and pieces that are memories and experiences, moments nearly forgotten, might otherwise go tumbling onto the ground.  

So each time I make this curry for Marc, I hope it takes him back to Guyana, to that time when he was a very small boy eating off a banana leaf, this dish holding him intact as the person he once was, now is and will one day become.

Johnny's Guyanese Beef Curry
A tip! Whenever we cook curry in our house, we make sure all the doors to the other rooms, especially the laundry room, are first shut tightly. The scent of curry can permeate everything! Though delicious, it's not always what you want to smell (or smell like), especially when you're putting on a just-laundered shirt.

With rice or roti, serves 6 hungry people

Ingredients
For the curry paste:
4 tablespoons madras curry powder
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon toasted ground cumin
1 teaspoon jerk seasoning paste, store bought or homemade

3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons coconut oil

2 pounds beef chuck cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
1 3/4 pounds waxy potatoes, peeled and cut into 1 1/4-inch chunks
3 onions, cut in half then thickly sliced
2-3 dried red peppers, such as chile de arboles
10 fresh thyme sprigs
2 1/2 cups beef broth or water, or a combination, plus more as needed
Salt and pepper

Instructions
Make the curry paste:
In a small bowl, combine curry powder, tumeric, cumin and jerk seasoning paste. Add enough water to form a thick paste. Set aside.

Make the stew:
Place a dutch oven or other large pan (with a lid) over medium-high heat. When pan is heated, add two tablespoons of coconut oil. Add curry paste and minced garlic. Stir quickly, allowing the paste to cook for a minute or two until highly fragrant. 

Add beef to pan. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Turn meat, allowing curry paste to sear onto all sides of the pieces and meat starts to brown. Some of the paste may start sticking to the bottom of the pot. Just scrape it up. Add dried chilis and onions, stirring. Some liquid should come out of mixture, but if it appears too dry, add a bit of water or broth to loosen the mixture. Cover and turn heat down. Cook on low for 25 minutes. 

Uncover pot and fish out the dried chilis and discard. Add thyme sprigs. Taste for salt, adding to your liking. Add the 2 1/2 cups of broth or water. Cover and simmer on low for an additional 35 to 45 minutes.

Add potatoes and adjust liquid as needed. If it seems too dry or you want more sauce/gravy, add more broth or water at this time. Cover and cook an additional 25 minutes, until potatoes are soft. 

Taste again for salt, adjusting as needed. Remove thyme sprigs and discard. Serve over rice, with roti on the side, or wrapped inside a roti.

Senegalese Peanut Soup and A Soup Swap!

Well, that was a busy weekend. On Friday, we attended our first Michaelmas celebration. Since Kingston just started preschool three weeks ago, it was our first school festival.

As the grade schoolers gathered in a large circle, we sat at the edge of the wooded playground with other parents, friends and acquaintances eating our picnic dinner while we watched a dragon get slayed.

Because that wasn't enough excitement, Kingston helped use a two-man saw to cut a log into chunks. He then promptly went over to the hammering table and began putting 1-inch nails into a piece of wood he'd just cut. 

We watched the fifth grade parents work the apple press to make cider using fruit collected from all the families. We shared an abundance of home baked bread slathered with butter.

Then all the way home, Kingston chanted, "Michaelmas, apple sauce!" Just because.

But Saturday was a new day as we put our Friday adventures behind us. It was our Fall Soup Swap and it was a good one. 

If you have never been to or hosted a soup swap, maybe it's time to join in and make one happen. It is the best reason to gather a bunch of friends and neighbors together and a chance to fortify everybody when the weather starts to take on a chill.

All of the soups we had were delicious. Butternut squash and curry, carrot yogurt, Tuscan white bean, pumpkin and Jerry Traunfeld's herbed black bean concoction. I made Senegalese peanut soup. Everyone brought containers and filled them up before they went home.

Lately, I've been on a soup kick and I can't help it. Soup in all its incarnations is one the greatest things a person can cook or eat. It's not usually complicated, it's nutritious and you can generally feed a lot of people with a single pot. 

Our soup swap underscored all this plus more. People love sharing. People love trying out new flavors. They love taking home quarts of soup that they didn't have to cook. They are happy to know there will be a meal or two they won't have to make, other than heating something up. There's also the bonus of getting to visit with one another. 

Senegalese peanut soup is one of my favorites. The best version I've had is the one that Jim makes at The Rhody Cafe and the Farm to Market Bakery (next door to the cafe) down in Bow-Edison. If you ever find yourself driving south from Bellingham down Chuckanut Drive, you will see it on the left side just before you get to Bow Hill Road.

Jim's version is full of shredded chicken and is warming and complex. It's offered every day both at the Cafe and the Bakery, served with pieces of the Breadfarm's most perfect baguette.

But circling back to Michaelmas, it is a festival that has been celebrated since at least Roman times, if not earlier. There are different stories related to it including that of St. George slaying a dragon to save an entire village. 

It's a reminder of the personal dragons we each have and the need to find the courage to tame them. Gathering together, finding strength through community by sharing something as simple as soup is one small way to shore ourselves (in these northerly parts especially) against the darker months ahead.

As our school newsletter states, "Let's use the energy and focus of the Michaelmas season to resolve to be courageous -- which means 'take heart,' subdue our inner dragons and serve the good. Celebrate our inner strength and courage and let Hope and Love prevail."

Or, as Kingston says, "Michaelmas, applesauce!"

And as I say, "Soup Swap!"

Senegalese Peanut Soup
This soup happens to be dairy and gluten free, vegan and vegetarian. It does, however (and unavoidably) contain plenty of peanuts, as the name suggests.

Slightly adapted from Soup Club, a book that celebrates friendship, food and sharing through a soup club in New York City.

Makes 4 quarts.

Ingredients
2 cups roasted, salted peanuts
2 tablespoons coconut oil
2 small red onions, cut in half and sliced thinly
5 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed
4 oz. fresh ginger, peeled and finely minced
1 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons mild curry powder
pinch of red pepper flakes or cayenne
1 28-oz. can of diced tomatoes, with their juice
2 lbs. sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
1 13.5 oz. can of unsweetened coconut milk
1 bunch cilantro, divided
1 cup unsweetened natural peanut butter, well-stirred
8 ounces swiss chard leaves, sliced into wide ribbons

To finish the soup
additional salt
black pepper, freshly ground
chopped cilantro
crushed or whole roasted, salted peanuts

Instructions
Use the side of a large knife to crush the peanuts.

In a large pot, heat the coconut oil. Add the onions, ginger and garlic. Saute until soft, about 5 minutes. Add the salt, curry and red pepper flakes. Cook for 2-3 minutes longer until the spices are fragrant.

Stir in the tomatoes then the sweet potatoes. Cook for another 2-3 minutes, stirring. Roughly chop half of the cilantro and add to the pot. Add 4 1/4 cups water and the coconut milk then give the soup a good stir. Bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook for about 20 minutes, until the sweet potatoes are tender.

Remove from heat. Into another container ladle out 5 cups of the soup, including chunks of sweet potato and pieces of tomato and onion. Set aside.

Stir peanut butter into the remaining soup in pot. Use an immersion blender to puree until peanut butter is incorporated and soup is fairly smooth. Return the unblended portion to the pot. Add the chard and stir. Allow chard to wilt. Adjust soup for salt and add pepper as desired.

Serve in bowls garnished with cilantro and peanuts.

Carrot Jalapeno Soup with Two Garnishes

I was a vegetarian, then a vegan for over ten years. That is, until the day I walked by Zabar's in New York City when I was five months pregnant, realized that I would die if I didn't eat any salami, then turned around and went inside. Guess what I bought?

Yep, a salami and cheese sandwich on a kaiser roll. What I didn't know until after Marc and I returned from our trip was that pregnant women aren't supposed to be eating cold, cured meats such as salami since their immune systems are more vulnerable.

Well, it was another five days before we got on a plane to come home. In the meantime, I had to eat that same Zabar's sandwich every day (at least once), usually before I would walk across Central Park. That sandwich. It became a fixation, an overwhelming craving that seemed to come from some extremely desperate person I didn't know who was housed inside my body.

Thankfully, I was fine. My immune system didn't let me down. 

Since that Zabar's sandwich, I have continued eating omnivorously. I haven't regretted it, though I still do believe that it's best to eat a primarily plant-based diet.

Thoughts of my vegetarian and vegan past came up for me today when I was looking through a cookbook published in 2009: Tal Ronnen's The Conscious Cook. It was given to me by a friend when I first moved up to Washington. I revisited it today while trying to pare down my book collection.

Flipping through it, I recalled how I had studied its pages carefully in my attempts to be a thoughtful and "conscious" vegan. Then, I thought about how whole foods bloggers and cookbook writers today such as Heidi Swanson, Sarah Forte and Anna Jones approach plant-based eating in such a different and well, fresher, way.

See, if you look through Ronnen's book, though there are high points such as his amazing cashew cheese (who would have thought probiotic capsules could help make such a delicious thing!), you'll also notice the judicious use of processed meat substitutes and things like pre-made vegan mayo. I remember eating a lot of that back in the day.

Now I wouldn't consider doing such a thing. I prefer to prepare food that is closer to resembling something that was actually tended to and pulled out of the soil.  Really, if you're going to be a vegetarian, why not just eat a salad, with some roasted chickpeas and a lemon vinagrette, or maybe a tasty and nourishing vegetable and grain soup instead? Farinata with asparagus, like the recipe in My New Roots' cookbook is a fabulous and satisfying plant protein option.

This soup is just a friendly reminder to all the vegetarians out there to eat your veggies! Forget about all the pre-packaged stuff and just grab a bunch of carrots to make this minimal-effort, flavorful soup. 

Carrot Leek and Jalapeno Soup
I like using water when I make a vegetable puree soup. I want to really taste the actual vegetable and give it the starring role it deserves. If you don't have a leek in hand, it is perfectly acceptable to use an onion -- just not a red one. Dried jalapenos are actually even better used here than the fresh stuff. You might have some in the cupboard, go check. Toss them in just before you add the water and all will be well. And, veganize this by replacing the butter with coconut oil. Most importantly, don't leave out the garnishes! They transform this soup from a very nice meal into a spicy little party.

Makes A Quart.

Ingredients
1 1/2 pound carrots, sliced into 1/4" coins
1 large leek, light parts only, cut in half lengthwise then into thin slices
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Small handful of dried, chopped jalapeno peppers, or use 1/2 to 3/4 of a fresh chopped     jalapeno*
4 cups of water, plus more to thin as needed.
Salt 

Instructions
Over medium-low heat, melt butter. Add leeks, turning up heat to medium. Add two large pinches of kosher salt. Saute leeks until soft. Add carrots and continue to saute for a few more minutes. If using dried jalapenos, add them now, then add water. Water should just cover the vegetables. Bring to a boil then turn down to a gentle simmer. Cover and cook for about 20 minutes, until carrots have softened. If using fresh jalapenos, add them five minutes before you turn off the heat.

In batches, process the vegetable mixture in a blender. Or, alternatively, use an immersion blender. Thin with water as desired. Adjust salt to taste. Garnish with carrot top oil and jalapeno pickle.

Carrot Top Oil
1/2 cup carrot top leaves, removed from woody stems
1 cup cold-pressed sunflower oil
scant 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

Place carrot top leaves, oil, and salt in a blender, whiz together until emulsified.

Quick Jalapeno Pickle
1 fresh jalapeno pepper, cut into thin rings or diced
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon freshly-squeezed orange juice

Whisk together salt, vinegar and orange juice. Add jalapeno and allow to pickle for 5 to 10 minutes. The longer you allow the jalapenos to sit in the vinegar mixture, the more the heat of the pepper will mellow.