The virtues of soup have never eluded me. It is my steadfast food companion and has been for all the years of my life. From canned childhood favorites to fortifying, wholesome, homemade, stick-to-your-ribs, main course soups that I grew up on and learned to make as I got older, nothing scores higher on the comfort scale for me than a simmering pot of seasonal soup.
Ready when you are, Love, it says, sitting there on the stove.
No rush, never pushy, it can wait all day, and with an aroma that envelops me like a long, heartfelt embrace delivered from someone I have missed and truly adore, it is a soft landing at the end of the day.
Soup is easy, relaxed and gifts us a sense of calm. I believe it has something to do with the way we breathe as we eat it. Each spoonful delivers a deep, full inhale as we tip it to our lips, then we hold our breath as we swallow before finally exhaling at the end. It is hard to rush through that process. Soup slows us down and we take our time.
As the primary cook in my family, I appreciate that the work of making soup is all on the front end. There are exceptions where you must remain vigilant through the process, but for the most part, it is just wash, chop and . . . that’s really it.
Okay, you do technically have to put what you prepped into some sort of a vessel and add some liquid, but after that and hardly much more, you are free to roam. Leave it simmering or turn it off and finish it later. Soup does not mind. It is laid back. And, it only improves the next day (or even the next), which is so my kind of cooking. No constant monitoring, no worry and it is the coziest way I know to show off your plentitude of homegrown, or market procured, fresh produce.
Besides, spring produce has arrived — and so has the pageantry. We are covered up in flowers and wild blooms, and apparently, shifting from drab to gorgeous was all I needed to put a skip back in my step. The azaleas are at the end of their run, but were extra spectacular this year. The slightly more understated camellias, gardenias and magnolia blossoms will soon grace us with their beauty and intoxicating fragrance, but there is no shortage of perfume in the air with all the purple wisteria vines and star-shaped jasmine trellising up garden fences, arbors and carport pilings all around my little community.
In eye catching shades of vibrant chartreuse, stubbly new growth covers previously bare branches of cypress trees and brightens the tips of dark evergreen live oaks and wax myrtle; all our flora are sporting their royal Spring regalia.
With dainty sprouts peaking up through rich soil beds and the overflowing pots of fresh herbs, this season is a delight. I will not wax poetic about the first baskets of strawberries coming in, but oh how I want to! All this freshness is like stepping into a Hallmark movie, sunshine and butterflies as far as the eye can see.
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After the rich and hearty stews of winter, I am craving lighter textures and brighter flavors, and everything I see — little green peas, thin spiky asparagus, feathery fronds of fennel — I want.
Spring vegetables have arrived to lift my palate (and my mood).
This soup encompasses all of it: the color, the smells, the variety, the abundance. It is loaded with fresh vegetables and herbs and invites you to add just about anything you simply could not bear to leave behind at the farmers market. It does, however, always include two things: lettuce and peas, a quintessential spring pairing in my book.
I was introduced to Lettuce and Peas as a side dish some twenty years ago and those two ingredients became the backbone of many of my spring soups. Before trying it I did not know you could cook salad greens. Preposterous really, how it never even crossed my mind.
At any rate, Lettuce and Peas is delicate and so simple to make. Simmer fresh green garden peas and chopped iceberg in butter with a little salt, pepper and an optional pinch of sugar. Cook until the peas are tender, and serve alongside or on top of a piece of fish or other mild protein. Add fresh herbs if you like — mint is nice — or a tablespoon of cream. It is definitely one to add to your list for the season, and it might inspire you — as it did for me — to create all sorts of dishes around which to celebrate springtime.
Ingredients
1 onion, small dice
2 carrots, chopped
3 celery stalks, chopped
3 cups of chopped, mixed, fresh vegetables: green onions, leeks, asparagus (save tips to add at the end of cooking), Jerusalem artichokes (or a new potato), cabbage, radishes
Salt and pepper
1 cup green peas, fresh or frozen
1 head romaine or iceberg, chopped
4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
Fresh dill and parsley
Juice of 1 to 2 lemons
Optional: sour cream or creme fraiche, for serving
Optional: grated Parmesan, for serving
Directions
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In a soup pot over low heat, add oil and sweat onions. Stir and add a little water, then cover with a lid and allow them to cook slow. Keep them moist with water.
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Uncover once onions are translucent and add carrots, celery and sturdier vegetables in your mix.
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Add broth and raise heat. Stir to combine for several minutes, allowing the vegetables to wilt. Add water if needed, but only enough to just cover vegetables. Bring to a low boil and reduce to simmer.
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Add a handful of dill, saving some for garnish and a sprinkling of parsley. Add salt if needed. Cook 10 to 15 minutes more, until vegetables are tender.
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Add peas and lettuce. Simmer 10 minutes.
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Add juice of 1 lemon and taste before adding the second.
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To serve, ladle into bowls and then add a dollop of sour cream or creme fraiche. Top with grated Parmesan, if desired.
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Garnish with fresh herbs and decorative bits of vegetables.
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