French onion and roast vegetable soup

So I had made my three-minute Spelt bread and had resisted the temptation to eat the entire loaf, warm out of the oven.  I thought that I would instead try to incorporate it into something slightly more substantial and meal-like.  I had some yummy, smooth and nutty tasting Doddington cheese purchased from Neal's Yard Dairy and I could just taste it melted on the bread.  A French onion soup would be perfect.  But I also happened to have some leftover roasted vegetables -- unusual since I tend to eat every last morsel of roasted roots whenever I make them.  ("Just a few carrots and potatoes?  That's not really enough to save.  Better finish them off now.")  There it was: a French-onion-style soup, with leftover roasted vegetables and melted cheese on toast.  Lunch, turned up to 11.

I did bring my second portion of soup to work the next day, sadly sans pain au fromage chaud.  It was still pretty good, but lacked that Je ne sais quoi.  I guess melted cheese really does make everything better.  Tant pis!

French onion and roast vegetable soup

Assortment roasted root vegetables (carrot, parsnip, celeriac, potato, etc), cut into 1 inch cubes

2 Roasted garlic cloves, or 1 large raw clove, minced

One large onion, thinly sliced

1 T. flour

4 C. vegetable broth

1 T. soy sauce

For each serving:

1 slice toasted Spelt bread with melted cheese

Saute onion in sauce pan over low heat until soft, golden and sweet (about 20-30 minutes).

Either add in minced garlic, or squeeze in the roasted cloves and mash with the spoon.  Stir flour through onion and garlic and cook for a few minutes, then add vegetable broth and heat until slightly thickened.  Add soy sauce (optional, but I like the extra flavor).

Melt cheese onto bread, then float in the soup.

Serves 2

Speedy, seedy spelt bread

Bread may be my kryponite, my Achilles heel, my Watergate.  When faced with a warm loaf, my willpower blows away like the chaff from the wheat.  Bread recipes are the same.  Almost as good as tasting the bread, is reading about making it.  At least I try to rationalize the baking, so if I've spent the time mixing, kneading, and rising the loaf, then at least I've earned my daily bread.  

And so I obsess about different grains.  White, whole wheat, rye, buckwheat -- flours by the dozen.   A bag of spelt flour I had knocking around finally inspired me this morning and I decided I needed to use it.  I can't take credit for originating this recipe, which came from the Telegraph (found online -- not a regular reader) but I will certainly be using it again.

The article promises a gorgeous, seeded loaf with no kneading and no rising time.  Bread in 3 minutes sounds too good to be true.  But it isn't.  It's very good, and very true.  I guess I'll have to find another rationalization.

1 lb 2 oz/500g spelt flour

2 sachets/10g fast acting yeast

1/2 tsp salt

2 oz/50g sunflower seeds

2 oz/50g linseeds

2 oz/50g sesame seeds

17 oz/500 ml warm water

Pre-heat oven to 200c/400f.

Mix all dry ingredients, then add water and mix well.  Shape dough into an oiled loaf pan and bake for about an hour.  (Or let the bread rise overnight in a cool place for a slightly lighter result.) Remove loaf, take out of pan, and put it back in the oven for another 5-10 minutes.

Lemon squares

It's about this time of year that it seems like we somehow stumbled through the wardrobe into the eternal Narnian winter, with no hope of anything but cold and darkness for the rest of our days.  We've just about used up our supply of optimism, rotated through all of our sweaters, worn out our hats, lost a few gloves, and gotten thoroughly bored of our so-called cozy winter evenings.   In our discontent of winter, what better than some little squares of sweet, lemony sunshine, full of the promise of the coming spring?

I was in the mood for something with lemons, wavering between a lemon pudding cake, a lemon tart, or maybe a lemon icebox pie.  I finally decided that a batch of lemon squares would do the trick.   They couldn't be easier: simple shortbread base, an intensely lemony topping, and a good dusting of powdered sugar to finish.  I like to spice up the shortbread with some finely chopped crystallized ginger, the exact amount depending on how gingerly I feel like treading.

 

These can be kept but are best eaten on the same day.  If an entire pan sounds a bit much, just get a few hungry friends (or one large boyfriend) around, leave them in the middle of the table, and I have never found it to be a problem.  Everyone will be much happier afterwards.

Short crust base:

1/2 C/1 stick/113 g unsalted butter

1/4 C powdered sugar

1 C pastry flour

1-2 T. crystallized ginger

1/8 tsp salt

Lemon topping:

4 large eggs

1 1/2 C granulated sugar

3/4 C fresh lemon juice

zest of 2 lemons

1/3 C all-purpose flour

3 Tbsp powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 350°F and butter an 8 x 8 inch pan.

For crust: Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.  Add the flour and salt and beat until the dough just comes together. Press into the bottom of your greased pan and bake for about 20 minutes, or until lightly browned.

Filling: In a bowl whisk together eggs and granulated sugar until combined well and stir in lemon juice and flour. Pour lemon mixture over hot crust. Reduce oven temperature to 300°F. and bake until set, about 30 minutes. Cool completely in pan and cut into squares. Sift powdered sugar over bars before serving.

Makes 16 squares

Lentil soup

Monday was a snow day in London.  We woke up to a great, whopping, six inches of snow, which paralyzed one of the largest metropolitan areas in the world.  Yes, we are wimps.  Living in the northeast for years, regularly getting storms that drop several feet of snow, I never once got to miss classes or work.  A few inches of powder here?  The entire city ground to a halt.

Forced to stay home, make snow men and snow angels, naturally I also had to cook up a good and warming lunch.  What better than soup?  Specifically a hearty, flavorful, meat on the cold bones kind of soup.  Lentils and potatoes did the trick, and the best part was, for once, I got to take a nice photo in natural light.  Working long days means it's dark when I leave in the morning and dark when I get home at night, so my poor dishes languish under unflattering energy saving lightbulbs (as do we all).  The beautiful, diffuse light in the snow made my soup look even better here than it did in person.

And why did it take me 5 days to upload this post?  One of the laws of nature: shorter weeks always seem longer and busier than normal ones.

Lentil soup:

1 medium onion or 1 large leek, chopped

1 fat garlic clove, minced

1 large carrot, chopped

1 C. brown lentils

2 medium potatoes (peeled or unpeeled), cut into 1 inch cubes

1 can chopped tomatoes

4-6 C. water or vegetable stock

2 C. broccoli cut into florets, or other greens (kale, savoy cabbage, spinach)

Saute the onion and carrot until they begin to soften.  Add the garlic and cook for another minute or two.

Add the lentils, potatoes, tomatoes, and water, and let simmer for about 25 minutes until the lentils are soft and potatoes are cooked through.  Stir in broccoli and cook only a few minutes, until the florets soften but remain bright green.

Serves 4

Barley and quinoa stuffed squash

I never seem to have enough time or energy, so I love anything that gives me a little extra.  One pot meals?  Fantastic -- less to clean up.  Food that provides its own dish?  Even better.  Squash was made to become the golden bowl for any variety of fillings.  

Squash always seemed to be such a funny name for a plant that is, in fact, rather expansive.  A few bits of trivia: the English word "squash" derives from askuatasquash (a green thing eaten raw) from the Narragansett language (according to my Wikipedia).  The game of Squash seems to have gotten its name from a rather more literal description of what the ball does when it hits the wall.  And we also have Squash the drink, popular in England and the Commonwealth, which is a fruit-based juice concentrate that becomes a juice drink when diluted with water.  Imagine liquid Tang and you're on the right track.

I prefer my Squash to be of the green/yellow/orange thing eaten roasted variety.  I wouldn't recommend trying to hit one against a wall.

One squash of your choice.  Kabocha, sugar pumpkin, or delicata are all good since they have a generous cavity for stuffing.  This amount of stuffing will probably fill two butternut squash.

1 medium onion, chopped (or 4 fat green onions, sliced thinly)

1 large clove garlic, minced

3/4 C. barley

1/4 C. quinoa

2 C. water

1/4 C. dried cherries, chopped

1/4 C. toasted walnuts, chopped

1-2 T. balsamic vinegar

1 tsp salt, or to taste

2 T. chopped fresh parsley

Preheat oven to 350.  Cut squash in half, brush with olive oil, and place cut side down on a pan into the oven and bake for approximately 45 minutes, or until tender.

 

In a medium saucepan, cook the onion and garlic until soft.  Add the barley and water, bring to the boil, then reduce heat and simmer for about 15 minutes.  Add quinoa, and cook until the barley is soft and the quinoa has popped open (another 15 minutes or so).  Most of the water should have been absorbed, so watch the pan at this point so it doesn't burn.  

Stir in the cherries, walnuts, salt and vinegar to taste.  Stuff into the baked squash and return to the oven for 5 minutes.  Top with parsley.

Serves 2 as a main dish.

Celeriac and potato soup

I think we are by now all familiar with my obsession with root vegetables.  I'll go underground for just about anything, but suddenly my vegetable box kept turning up some gnarled and gnarly roots: celeriac.  Smooth on one side, the other a mass of little, hair-like roots, the rough exterior hides the pale and delicate flavor on the inside.  Celeriac is fantastic mashed with potatoes, but I like to make it into a creamy soup.  The subtle flavor of celery is set off perfectly by serving it with some thinly sliced baguette spread with a creamy blue like St Agur. 

Because celeriac comes in so many shapes and sizes, and the amount of flesh you can get out of the root side is so variable, I tend to do this recipe by weight.  I also throw in a can of white beans before blending to give it some extra protein and body.  You could leave them out, peel the potatoes, strain the soup through a fine sieve, and serve a silky, light soup.  I personally like the heartier, more rustic version pictured here.   

1 large onion, chopped

1 big clove garlic, minced

1 celery root (about 1.5 lbs.), peeled and cut into 1 inch cubes

2 medium potatoes (about 3/4 to 1 lbs.), cut into 1 inch cubes

4-6 cups vegetable stock depending on how thick or thin you want the soup

1 can white beans 

A good pinch of freshly ground pepper

Parsley

Chop onion and cook it gently in a stock pot.  Add the garlic, and once it's softened, add the celeriac, potatoes, and vegetable stock.  Bring to the boil, then lower heat and let simmer until the vegetables are soft.  Add the beans, then blend until smooth.  Garnish with parsley or blue cheese toasts.

Serves 4.

Linguine with tuna and greens

Admitting you have a problem is the first step to getting help, so here goes:  I'm a canaholic.  I know we're not supposed to use canned beans, canned tomatoes, or other things that we should be buying, canning, and boiling in bulk ourselves, but I just can't give up the habit.  My shelf is stacked high with all varieties of beans, chopped tomatoes, whole tomatoes, anchovies, sardines, and, my favorite staple, tuna.  This is not your grandmother's tuna casserole tuna.  These is not the water packed, shreds of tuna you may have used for tuna sandwiches in the dining hall.  Bumblebee tuna -- though it may have its place in the annals of food history, nestled between cream of mushroom soup and breadcrumbs -- I could probably give up cold turkey.  But quality, Italian style, olive oil packed tuna: I just can't quit it.

This is a great weeknight meal which (I think) sounds pretty good, but tastes even better.  Quick, easy, and made from ingredients which I usually have on my shelf.  Any time the craving strikes, I'm good to go.

1 lb. linguine

1/3 C. olive oil

2 large garlic cloves, minced

big pinch red pepper flakes

7oz./200g can good quality tuna in olive oil

4 C. (or more) arugula or other leafy green

Salt and pepper to taste

Parmesan (optional)

Wedge of lemon (not optional)

Cook pasta in salted, boiling water. While pasta cooks, heat olive oil, garlic and red pepper flakes over low heat until garlic is fragrant and soft.

Add tuna and break it up as you stir it around. Season with salt to taste.

Drain pasta, reserving 1 C. pasta water. Return pasta to pan and stir in arugula over medium heat until wilted. Add tuna mixture to pasta, adding pasta water as necessary to thin the sauce and moisten the pasta.

Serve with parmesan if desired, and a good squeeze of lemon -- mandatory.

Serves 4-6.