Soup from the Late Autumn Market Pantry: Cabbage & White Bean with Root Vegetables

Last Sunday we woke up to what seemed like the umpteenth day in a row of gray skies.  I love gray days...but they had been around for so long at that point that even I was tired of them.  I just wanted to hole up in the house with a book....and put on a big pot of soup for dinner.  I didn't even want to go to the store, so whatever soup I made had to be something that could be made with things I had on hand.

Fortunately, my pantry is well-stocked with winter storage vegetables from my famers' market right now.  Cabbage, turnips, sweet potatoes, winter squash, onions, garlic, leeks...  Not to mention my regular staples of cured meats (bacon/pancetta, prosciutto/ham)....and a couple varieties of dried beans.   I even had some stock on hand.  (Although, I am not afraid to make my soups with water, so lack of stock would not have been a deal breaker...I would have just added more onion and/or leek to the soup.) Knowing I had the makings of soup on hand I decided to put some beans on to soak (using my modified quick soak method) and wait until later in the day to think about exactly what kind of soup I was going to make. 

As I considered what to make, the presence of the cabbage and dried beans in my stash put me in mind of a classic hearty soup-stew from the Southwest corner of France (the Landes, the Béarn and the Pyrénées) called Garbure.  In addition to cabbage and beans it typically includes one of the famed preserved meats of the region—duck, goose or pork confit, along with the gelatinous broth produced by the confit process (sometimes called "duck/goose jelly").  Unfortunately I don't live in the south of France so these things aren't to be found in my working pantry.  But rich meats and broths do not have to be included in a Garbure—there are many versions that are made with a simple broth or even a combination of water and broth.  The real hallmark of Garbure is the cabbage.

The remaining vegetables that are included in the soup are those that would be abundant on the farm during the winter months—leeks, onions, potatoes, turnips and carrots.  If you shop at your Farmers' market, these will be the things you will have too. 

Traditional versions of Garbure are said to be so thick that a wooden spoon or a ladle will stand erect when thrust into the center of the soup. This thick mixture is then ladled into individual bowls over slabs of brown bread (in much the same way Americans sometimes serve Ham & Bean soup ladled over a chunk of cornbread or a split biscuit). 

The soup I made for our dinner was much lighter and broth-y than these traditional Garbures.  I didn't add any starchy white potatoes, which tends to thicken a soup (and is particularly noticeable in successive reheats).  Furthermore, I added a higher proportion of liquids than is probably typical. 

The vegetables you use when you make Garbure are up to you...as long as they are winter vegetables.  I liked the idea of an all white/cream/pale yellow/pale green soup, so I didn't include any carrots...or orange sweet potatoes or winter squash.  All of these would be at home in this soup, but I happened to have some white sweet potatoes (Bonita) from my market, so I chose to use them and forged ahead with the idea of a monochromatic soup.  Potatoes would obviously have been fine, but as mentioned above they add thickness, and I really wanted a lighter soup.  I also added leeks and turnips (some lovely Goldball turnips...but classic white, purple top turnips would be fine). I could have included celery—adding them to the soup with the leeks and onions—but just chose not to.

As you can see, this is a homey, flexible soup.  For the given quantity of cabbage and beans, four or five cups of additional vegetables is about right.  Water/stock/bean cooking liquid can then be added to achieve the body and thickness that you prefer. 

After I made my soup I realized that it would make a perfect post-Thanksgiving soup... if you happened to be the one who roasted the bird.  Chunks of dark meat...along with a dose of any of the salty pan drippings left from the roasting process...would make fantastic stand-ins for the traditional duck or goose confit and accompanying "jelly." Unfortunately, it didn't fall to me to roast the turkey this year.  But I know it would be delicious, so I will have to keep it in mind for the next time it is my turn to host the big meal.  Cold, gray days...perfect for soup...are never in short supply in late November.    

Cabbage & White Bean Soup with Root Vegetables

2/3 cup (about 4 1/2 to 5 oz.) dried great northern beans, soaked (overnight or with quick soak method)

olive oil

2 cloves garlic, peeled

Several sprigs thyme

1 to 2 T. olive oil

2 oz. bacon (or salt pork), cut in a 1/4-inch dice

1 large or 2 small leeks—white and pale green parts only, halved, well-rinsed and cut in a 1/3-to 1/2-inch dice (about 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 cups)

2 cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced cross-wise

1/2 medium onion, diced (1 cup)

2/3 lb. turnip, peeled and cut in a 1/3- to 1/2-inch dice (2 cups)

2/3 lb. sweet potato (a "white" variety, if available), peeled and cut in a 1/3- to 1/2-inch dice (2 cups)

3/4 lb. wedge of cabbage, cored and cut into a rough 1/2-inch dice (3 cups)

4 c. Chicken Stock

2 c. Water

Olive oil

Finely minced flat leaf parsley

Drain and rinse the beans.  Place them in a large saucepan and cover with fresh water by 2 inches.  Bring to a boil.  Lower the heat and skim off the foam that has risen to the surface.  Add a generous drizzle of olive oil, the garlic and thyme.  Cook the beans at a gentle simmer, stirring occasionally, until the beans are tender.  Or, place the soaked, drained beans in a shallow gratin with the garlic and thyme.  Drizzle with the olive oil.  Cover with boiling water by an inch, cover the pan with a tight fitting lid, or a piece of foil.  Transfer to a 325° oven and bake until tender.  Whether you cook the beans on the stove top or in the oven, they will take about an hour and 15 minutes to cook.  Add salt to taste when the beans are half cooked.  Beans may be cooked ahead.  Cool the beans in their cooking liquid.

In a large stockpot, heat the olive oil over medium heat.  Add the bacon and cook until rendered and beginning to turn golden and crisp around the edges. Add the leeks, onions, and the garlic along with a pinch of salt and continue to cook until the vegetables have begun to soften—about 10 to 15 minutes.  (If you are adding any carrots or celery, add them with the leeks and onions.)

Add the turnip, sweet potatoes and cabbage and stir to coat in the fat and cooked vegetables.  Add a good pinch of salt and continue to cook, stirring occasionally until you can hear the vegetables sizzling and see that the cabbage has begun to wilt/soften.  Add the stock and enough water to just cover the vegetables—they should be snug, but move freely and easily when stirred.  In any case, the amount of liquid is up to you.  Use less water if you want thick, hearty soup and use more if you want a lighter, broth-y soup.  Be mindful that the cabbage will collapse a bit as it cooks. 

Bring the soup to a simmer.  Taste and season the soup with salt.  Cover the pot, leaving the lid slightly ajar.  Simmer, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are just tender—about 20 to 25 minutes.  Add the cooked beans with their liquid.  Return the soup to a gentle simmer and cook briefly (5 minutes or so) to allow the flavors to blend.  Correct the seasoning, adding freshly ground black pepper, if you like.  Serve drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled generously with parsley.  Serve with a loaf of crusty bread and some cheese.

Makes 2 1/2 quarts soup (enough for 5 or 6 servings)

Printable Version

Dandelion Greens... In a Gratin with White Beans, Tomatoes & Garlic Sausage

All summer long I have noticed that one of the growers at my farmers' market has had dandelion greens for sale at their stall.  I have intended several times to grab a bunch, but for some reason I never did.  But a couple of weeks ago, I finally remembered to take a minute to ask about them. 

The variety they are growing is a red ribbed Italian heirloom—a member of the chicory family.  They told me that like other members of this family, the dandelion greens can be quite bitter and they have found that they are best when cooked.  Since I love some of the other chicories (endive, frisée and escarole), I bought a bunch.  When treated properly, the bitter edge of these lettuces and greens can be delicious and interesting.  It's just a matter of combining them with things that will balance and compliment the bitterness.  Judicious use of acidity (tomato, citrus, vinegar, etc.), salt (cured meats, anchovy, olives, etc.) and fat (fatty meats, olive oil, etc.) can turn something that is one dimensionally bitter into something that has delicious complexity and flavor. 

The dandelion greens that I purchased—with their ruby colored ribs—reminded me of chard and beet greens...both of which can also be slightly bitter (although not as bitter as chicory).  In the fall and winter I love pairing these kinds of greens with bland starchy things...  Things like polenta, potatoes and white beans.

Considering all this, I decided to use my dandelion greens in a French-style shell bean gratin.  Beans and greens are one of my favorite food combinations.  Whether combined in a soup...or the gratin...the greens that are used for a preparation like this are given ample cooking time to sort of "give up" their bitterness.

When I have prepared gratins like this in the past, I have occasionally included some optional tomato.  Their acidity serves to brighten the blandness of the beans and can be a nice addition.  In the case of my gratin with the dandelion greens, the acidity of the tomato seemed like an essential.

Finally, I added some salty, fatty, garlic sausages to the mix.  Not only did they provide a perfect foil for the dandelion greens, they turned what I have always considered a side dish into a satisfying entrée.   I'm certain you could omit the sausage...but since this makes a fantastic one dish meal when you include it, I'm not sure you would want to. 

One final observation about this gratin:  As you look at the image of the gratin before it goes into the oven and compare it to the image of the finished, baked gratin, you will be struck with how beautiful the unbaked one is.  You might be tempted when you make it to just serve it before baking it.  After all, all of the ingredients are cooked, so why not serve the more beautiful version?  And while I know the unbaked version would be good, it will lack the delicious intermingling of flavors that happens during the baking process.  Just like a good stew or braise that tastes even better after it has had a day to sit, so the baking process of the gratin produces a richness of flavor that can't be matched in the unbaked version.  Besides, making this simple medley of beans, greens, tomatoes and sausage into a gratin allows you to work ahead—something that is a huge bonus for anyone who cooks.  

I couldn't believe how delicious and flavorful my gratin was.  I don't know if it was the addition of the dandelion greens...or simply the combination of a few perfect flavor partners, but I will definitely be making it again.  And I will certainly be making a point in the future to find more ways to serve dandelion greens at my table. 

Gratin of White Beans with Dandelion Greens & Garlic Sausage

1 cup Great Northern beans, soaked over-night

6 T. Olive Oil, divided

1 well-branched sprig of thyme

1/2 medium onion (red or yellow), finely diced

2 to 3 cloves garlic, peeled and minced

1/2 T. minced Thyme

1/2 c. diced tomatoes (can use canned plum or a 6 oz. vine ripe, peeled, seeded neatly diced)

1 bunch of Dandelion greens, stems cut off where the leaves start (discard the stems—you should have a scant 2 oz. trimmed greens), leaves and remaining tender ribs cut cross-wise into 1/2-inch wide ribbons and thoroughly rinsed

6 to 8 oz. garlic sausage, browned and sliced into fat chunks on a slight diagonal

1/2 to 3/4 cup toasted breadcrumbs (see below)

Drain and rinse the beans.  Place them in a large saucepan and cover with fresh water by 2 inches.  Bring to a boil.  Lower the heat and skim off the foam that has risen to the surface.  Add 2 T. of olive oil and a sprig of thyme.  Cook the beans at a gentle simmer, stirring occasionally, until the beans are tender.  Or, place the soaked, drained beans in a shallow gratin, drizzle with the olive oil and add a sprig of thyme.  Cover with boiling water by an inch, cover the pan with a tight fitting lid, or a piece of foil.  Transfer to a 325° oven and bake until tender.  Whether you cook the beans on the stove top or in the oven, they will take about an hour and 15 minutes to cook.  Add salt to taste when the beans are half cooked.  Beans may be cooked ahead.  Cool the beans in their cooking liquid.

To prepare the gratin, warm 2 T. of olive oil in a wide sauté pan.  Add the onion, minced thyme and some salt.  Gently sweat the onions until they are tender and translucent (about 10 minutes).  Add the garlic and continue to cook until fragrant.  Add the tomatoes and cook for 5 minutes.  Add the greens along with a ladleful of the bean cooking liquid and cook until the greens are wilted and tender. Taste and salt as necessary.

Drain the beans and save the cooking liquid.  Add the beans to the onion mixture and toss to distribute all of the ingredients evenly.  Heat through.  Transfer to a 1 1/2 to 2 quart gratin (or other shallow baking dish).  If using, tuck the sausages into the beans so that they are level with the surface.  Ladle over enough bean liquid to almost cover.  Drizzle the remaining 2 T. of olive oil over the gratin.  (You may prepare the gratin to this point up to a day in advance.  Refrigerate.  Bring to room temperature before continuing.)  Cover the top of the gratin with the toasted breadcrumbs.  Bake the gratin in a 350° oven until bubbling and golden brown on top (about 45 minutes).  Check the gratin occasionally while it bakes.  If it appears to be drying out too much, add more bean liquid.  If not browned to your liking when it is bubbling and hot through, briefly run under the broiler until the crumbs are tinged with golden brown.  Serves 2 to 3 

Notes & Variations:

• Use a precooked sausage such as Kielbasa, Linguiça or Aidells Roasted Garlic & Gruyère Chicken Sausage (my favorite) 
• To make a simple side dish of beans and greens, simply omit the sausage. Without the sausage, the gratin will serve 4 to 6 as a side dish. 
• You may use any kind of white bean that you prefer...Cannellini, Flageolet, etc. Just be aware that not all varieties will cook in the same amount of time as the Great Northerns. 
• You may use greens other than dandelions. A small bunch (or half a bunch, if you prefer) of chard or kale (any kind) will work. If you use a whole bunch, you will have about twice as much trimmed weight as with the dandelions. For the both chard and kale, remove all of the ribs/stems. The chard may be added exactly as the dandelions. The kale should be blanched since it takes much longer to cook. To blanch it, drop the clean, trimmed and sliced kale in boiling, salted water and cook until tender. Drain and spread on a baking sheet to cool. Add to the onion and tomatoes and heat through. 
• To make toasted breadcrumbs, use the food processor to process sliced/torn "day-old" bread (crusts removed if they are very hard) until bread is in uniform soft crumbs. Spread crumbs on a rimmed cookie sheet and “toast” in a 350 degree oven until golden brown and dry, stirring occasionally (about 10 minutes). Drizzle crumbs with olive oil and toss to combine. Crumbs can be used immediately or cooled and stored airtight at room temperature for a week or so...or frozen for longer.
• Recipe is easily doubled. Use a 3 quart gratin/shallow baking dish. 

Printable Version

White Bean Soup with Butternut Squash, Farro & Ham

After an unusually warm and dry winter, I was expecting more of the same for spring.  But so far, spring has been cool and wet.  And I love it.  I love the way the spring greens pop in the soft gray light...

...and I love the rain.  As always, I am looking forward to the new, fresh foods of spring.  But these cool days have put me in the mood for more substantial—and a bit unseasonal—fare. 

On one of our recent rainy days I was flipping through a favorite cookbook (One Good Dish by David Tanis)  looking for the details of a particular recipe when the book fell open to a picture of his "winter minestrone" (white bean soup with winter squash).  I have never made the soup that is pictured—rather that recipe was a springboard for a soup that has since become a favorite.  Either version would have been perfect for the chilly, drizzly day.

In addition to the white beans, the original soup included pasta, pancetta and what I thought was a rather skimpy amount of winter squash.  The first time I made the soup, I doubled the quantity of squash.  I also happened to have some chunks of the end of a Serrano ham in my freezer, so I replaced the pancetta with that.  Even though pancetta might be more common in minestrone, I love ham in a bean soup...and it was a delicious substitution.  I have since made it with ordinary American-style ham—which might not be as good as a fine air cured ham (like Serrano or Prosciutto), but was still delicious.  Finally, I got rid of the pasta altogether and added farro to the soup.  I discovered a few years ago how delicious farro can be in soup.  Moreover, it gives the soup a nice keeping quality that it doesn't have when made with pasta.  Pasta, if added to the entire batch, will become bloated and soggy as it sits (it needs to be cooked and stored separately and added to the leftovers as needed to avoid this).  Farro maintains its texture...even when the soup is kept for several days.

One of the things I like the most about this soup is the way the squash is roasted before adding it to the soup.  When diced squash is cooked in the soup, it can break up into the broth.  This is usually a desired quality, since it adds body and color to the soup.  But when roasted and added at the end it maintains a discrete presence.  The effect—both from a visual and a taste perspective—is very nice.   

For some reason I never got around to making this soup this past winter.   And since days when I'll be hungry for such a soup are dwindling, I decided to make it now.  If you happen to have a cool spring day in your future, you should make it.  I think you will find the combination of flavors and textures to be wonderfully satisfying.  And if you don’t make it now, be sure to save the recipe someplace where it will cross your line of vision next fall when winter squash begins to fill the markets once again.

White Bean Soup with Butternut Squash, Farro & Ham

3 T. olive oil, divided

3 to 3 1/2 oz. ham, cut in a 1/3-inch dice
1 medium onion (about 8 to 9 oz.), cut into small dice
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 t. fennel seed, crushed
1/8 t. red pepper flakes, or to taste
1/2 lb. Great Northern beans, soaked overnight in cold water, drained and rinsed
Water
1 lb. Butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut into 1/2-inch dice

1/2 c. pearled or semi-pearled farro

1 t. minced fresh rosemary

Olive oil for drizzling

In a soup pot, heat a tablespoon of the olive oil over medium-high heat.  Add the ham and cook, stirring occasionally until browned in spots—about 3 to 5 minutes.  Add another tablespoon of olive oil, then add the onion, garlic, fennel seeds, and pepper flakes along with a pinch of salt.  Stir to coat in the fat.   Reduce the heat and gently sweat the onions until soft and tender—adding more oil if the pan seems dry—about 10 to 15 minutes. 

Add the beans and enough water to cover the beans by about an inch or so and bring to a simmer.  Maintain a simmer, stirring occasionally and adding hot water as necessary to keep the beans covered by an inch of liquid.  When the beans are about half cooked, season to taste with salt.  Continue to cook until the beans are very tender—about 45 minutes to an hour total cooking time. 

While the beans cook, prepare the squash and farro:

In a large bowl, toss the cubed squash with a tablespoon or so of olive oil.  Season with salt and pepper and spread on a baking sheet large enough to hold the squash in a snug single layer. Transfer to a 400° oven and roast, turning the squash once, until tender and caramelized in spots—about 30 minutes.  Set aside.

Cook the farro in a pot of boiling salted water until just tender—about 25 minutes.  Drain and spread on a baking sheet until needed.

When the beans are tender, add the squash, farro and rosemary, along with enough boiling water so that the soup elements are submerged and moving freely.  Continue to simmer for 5 minutes or so to allow the flavors to blend.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  Ladle in to warm soup bowls and served drizzled with olive oil. 

Makes 2 to 2 1/2 quarts.  Recipe is easily doubled.

Note:  The soup will thicken as it sits.  Be ready to add more water when reheating on subsequent days. 

(Recipe adapted from Winter Minestrone in One Good Dish by David Tanis)

Printable Version

Beans & Greens in Broth with Italian Sausage & Orecchiette

Sometimes necessity produces meals that are merely edible.  These meals might be filling and nourishing, but in the end, they are (mercifully) not terribly memorable.  On the other hand, there are those—hopefully more frequent—occasions when the odds and ends of a pantry come together in such a way that a new favorite is born.  Such was the case for me when I recently found myself with a large quantity of beet greens in my produce bin. 

These particular beet greens were especially beautiful. To me this seemed unusual for this time of year—I noticed them when I purchased the beets (which also happened to be pretty nice).  Since the greens were so lovely, I was determined to use them before they lost their freshness.  With this in mind, I gave them a prominent place in my produce drawer where they would announce their presence to me every time I opened the drawer.  I am pleased to report that it worked. 

When I finally used them, I combined them with some Cannellini beans and Italian Sausage in a simple broth-based dish.  The dish was light—but wholly satisfying—and it was entirely composed of things I happened to have on hand.  I only used a small handful of beans—mostly because that was all that was left in the bottom of the bag, but also because the dish I had in my mind was more broth-y than bean soup-like.   The Italian Sausage is something I always keep in my freezer…and it is delicious with beans and greens.  Finally—in order to create a dish with a bit more substance—to the greens, beans and sausage, I added some orecchiette pasta (just a small amount…I wasn’t trying to make a “pasta” dish). 

Instead of browning the sausage links and dicing or slicing them….or crumbling the sausage up and browning it….I decided to form the sausage meat into tiny little balls and drop these into the simmering broth at the very end of the cooking time.  The sausage remains soft, juicy and tender this way, but best of all, the little balls gave the humble bowl of beans and greens a whimsical look and an out of the ordinary air….far beyond the amount of work required to make them.  

To form them, simply dampen your hands, pinch off a small piece of the sausage meat (casings removed if you purchase links) and then with slightly damp palms, roll the bit of sausage into a ball.  Remember to keep them small…a half pound of sausage should yield about 64.  When they are this small, they will cook quickly, match the size of the cannellini beans and nestle neatly into the cup shaped orecchiette.

If you have homemade stock in your freezer, this dish would be a great place to use some.  The broth figures prominently in the flavor of the final dish, and while I am not opposed to using good canned broths, there are times when using a nice homemade stock is worth it.  I think this is one of those times.  The bean cooking liquid too adds a lot of flavor to this dish…flavor you will miss if you use canned beans.  So, if you can, plan ahead and soak the beans overnight….or quick soak them as I describe another “beans and greens” dish post.  I’m sure the final dish will taste fine if made with canned beans and canned broth….but it will most likely lack the special quality of a dish made with homemade broth and dried beans.

As I mentioned at the first, this dish came about because of the beet greens I already had on hand.  Normally, beet greens are not something I purchase….I only have them if I have had a need for some beets.  Since I am far more likely to purchase Swiss Chard, I made this dish a second time with Swiss Chard.  I am happy to report that it is delicious with the chard.  

I think it is better with the beet greens—they seem to have more substance than the chard and also a bit more flavor—but still, it was very good…definitely worth making.  In fact, I imagine you could make this dish with any green you liked, as long as you cook them in a way (and for a length of time) that is appropriate for your chosen green.  As for me though, I think I will tuck this recipe away as one of my favorite ways to use beet greens.  I may even make a point of finding a reason to purchase beets whenever I happen to see a few bunches with especially fine greens…just so I will be able to have this dish.  

  

Beans & Greens in Broth with Italian Sausage & Orecchiette

1/3 lb. (a scant cup) Cannellini beans), soaked overnight, or quick soaked

Olive oil

4 to 6 cloves of garlic, peeled

One or two sprigs of rosemary

Salt

1 red onion, (about 8 oz.), trimmed, peeled and finely diced

Pinch of hot pepper flakes, to taste

2/3 lb. of trimmed greens (no stems or ribs)—from about 3 bunches of beets or two bunches of Swiss Chard—cut into fat ribbons (a wide chiffonade), and rinsed in several changes of water

About 2 2/3 cups rich chicken stock—more or less, depending on how brothy you want the final dish to be

8 oz. Italian Sausage—sweet or hot, as you prefer—casings removed, if necessary and the meat formed into tiny little meatballs (you should get about 60 to 64)

8 oz. Orecchiette pasta

Freshly grated Parmesan

Ingredients for half a recipe

Drain and rinse the beans and place in a small sauce pan.  Add enough cold water to cover by a couple of inches.  Add a couple of cloves of garlic and a sprig or two of rosemary.  

Bring to a boil and skim off any foam that comes to the surface.  Add a generous drizzle of olive oil, reduce the heat.  Maintain a gentle simmer, stirring occasionally, until the beans are very tender…about an hour to an hour and a half.  When the beans are half cooked, season to taste with salt.   Add hot water to the pan as necessary to maintain enough liquid to cover the beans by a half inch to an inch.   

When the beans are cooked, remove the garlic cloves and the rosemary.  Set the beans aside (leave them in the cooking liquid) until ready to add them to the final dish.  You may cook the beans a day or so ahead if you like.  Cool and store the beans in their cooking liquid.  

Warm about 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a large, wide sauté pan with straight sides or a Dutch oven set over medium heat.  Add the red onion, along with a pinch of salt, and sweat until very tender and  beginning to caramelize, reducing the heat if the onions begin to color before they are tender—about 10 to 15 minutes.  While the onions cook, mince two or three cloves of garlic.  When the onions are ready, add the garlic and pepper flakes and continue to cook until fragrant…a minute or two.  Add the greens to the pan (along with any water clinging to them) a handful at a time, turning with tongs to coat in the oil, and adding another handful as the previous one begins to collapse.  Season with salt (be careful—the sausage will be salty and the greens will continue to collapse) and continue to cook until the greens are just tender.

While the greens cook, bring a large pot of water to the boil.  Salt the water generously (about a teaspoon per quart).  Drop the orecchiette into the boiling salted water and cook until al dente.  Drain, toss with a bit of olive oil and set aside in a warm spot. 

When the greens are tender, add the chicken stock along with the beans and their cooking liquid.  Bring the broth to a simmer.  Add the meatballs to the simmering liquid. Continue to simmer until the meatballs are just cooked through…about five to seven minutes (cut one open to make sure it is cooked through).  Taste the broth and adjust the seasoning.

Divide the warm pasta among warmed shallow soup bowls.  Divide the beans, greens, sausage and broth among the bowls.  Drizzle with olive oil if you like and top with freshly grated parmesan.  Serve immediately….with crusty bread, biscuits or cornbread.

Serves 4 to 6, depending on appetites.

Printable Recipe

Market Inspirations: Asparagus & White Bean Salad with Arugula (and a bonus recipe for a Versatile Two-Olive Sauce for Fish)

As we sat down to dinner on Saturday I was struck by how much I love this time of year.  It is finally warm enough to eat out of doors...and the food that fills our plates is fresh from the market.  What could be finer? Our meal was just a simple white bean salad, but it was made special by the presence of local asparagus and arugula...purchased that morning...directly from the people who grew it.  It was so delicious.  What a privilege and pleasure it is to be cooking from the market again.

I served our salad with some pan-seared salmon.  I am partial to salmon in the spring and early summer...it is so lovely with the early pale green vegetables...asparagus, as well as artichokes and peas...but I think the salad would be good with any number of varieties of fish and seafood.  Scallops, Shrimp, Halibut and Swordfish all come to mind.   As originally conceived, this salad was a vehicle for leftover salmon (whether poached, roasted, baked, grilled or pan-seared)...broken into large chunks and folded in with the asparagus.  In this form it would make a great salad for a buffet...or a boxed lunch (bearing in mind that the acidity of the vinaigrette will dull the color of the asparagus).  It would also be pretty good without any fish at all.

I like this salad a lot—just as written—but on Saturday I left the olives out and topped the salmon with a delicious olive sauce instead.  

On this particular occasion, the sauce was a leftover (from a dinner earlier in the week of halibut with broccoli and couscous), but it was so good I will certainly make a point to serve the two together again.  The sauce—a loose tapenade-like concoction from Joyce Goldstein's Kitchen Conversations—is spiked with a generous dose of orange zest and juice, making it an especially good companion for the asparagus.  Even if you don't make this salad, this is a great sauce to have in your repertoire if you like fish. 

Finally, since the white beans are the backbone of this salad, I really think they should be freshly cooked from dried.  But if cooking dried beans is a task you hate, you can of course make a very nice salad with a good quality canned bean (just make sure you rinse them before adding them to the salad).   At one time I was a bit of a snob about canned beans...really frowned on using them.  But over the years I have discovered that they can be a pretty good product...a "convenience" food that isn't awful or too much of a compromise.  I keep canned items to a bare minimum in my kitchen, but I admit to always having a can or two of beans (especially cannellini, chickpeas and black beans) on hand.  If you would like to cook dried beans for this salad, I am including a great method from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone.  It uses the gentle heat of the oven to produce soft, creamy beans that still retain their shape—exactly what one wants in a salad. 

White Bean Salad with Asparagus & Arugula

For the vinaigrette:

1/4 c. freshly squeezed lemon juice

1/2 to 1 t. fennel seed, toasted and finely crushed

1 clove garlic, smashed to a purée with a pinch of salt

1/2 c. olive oil

Salt & freshly ground pepper

For the salad:

3 c. cannellini beans, canned or cooked from dry (see note below)

1/2 c. finely diced red onion, well rinsed under cold running water

1/4 c. chopped flat-leaf parsley

2 T. chiffonade mint

16 to 20 Kalamata olives, halved (optional)
1 medium bunch asparagus, trimmed, sliced on the diagonal into 1 1/2-inch lengths, then blanched and refreshed under cold running water

4 or 5 handfuls arugula (or other favorite salad green)

1/3 c. toasted pistachios, chopped (optional)

To make the vinaigrette, in a small bowl whisk together the lemon juice and garlic.  Gradually whisk in the olive oil in a thin stream to form an emulsion.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Set aside.   

To make the salad, drain and rinse the beans and place in a large bowl.  Add the onions, the herbs, olives (if using) and about half the vinaigrette.  Toss to coat.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  At this point, the beans can be left to marinate for up to 30 minutes.

To finish the salad, place the arugula in a large bowl.  Season with salt and pepper and drizzle with some of the vinaigrette.  Toss to coat and divide among four serving plates, spreading out to form a base for the rest of the salad.  Add the asparagus to the beans and gently toss to coat, adding more vinaigrette if necessary.  Divide the bean mixture among the plates, mounding in attractively on top of the greens.  If desired, sprinkle each salad with some of the chopped pistachios.

Serves 4

Notes: 

• To cook the beans from dried for a salad, soak them in water over night (to get three cups cooked, you will need to start with 1 1/4 to 1 1/3 cups dried). Drain the soaked beans, rinse them and transfer to a shallow baking dish. Drizzle with olive oil. Cover the beans with boiling water by one inch. Cover the pan with foil or a lid and transfer to a 325° oven. Bake until the beans are tender all the way through, salting when they are half cooked. This will take about 2 hours—depending on how fresh the dried beans are. Cool and store (in the refrigerator) in their cooking liquid until ready to use.
• You can serve this salad as is or as I did with some salmon (or other fish) cooked however you like. To pan sear the salmon (as pictured): heat a sauté pan (large enough to comfortably hold all of the fish) over medium-high heat. While the pan is heating, season the fish on both sides with salt & pepper. Add a thin film of oil to the pan. When the oil is very hot, add the fish, skinned side up (if the fish is skinless....if serving with the skin, put the side with the skin down first). Cook until nicely browned (or the skin is crisp if serving with the skin), regulating the heat as necessary to prevent smoking but at the same time, maintaining an active sizzle. Turn and cook the fish, until barely opaque in the center (reducing the heat further, if necessary). A good rule of thumb for cooking fish is to cook it 10 minutes total per inch of thickness. If you like you may sear the first side, turn the fish over and then transfer the whole pan to a hot oven and finish cooking in the oven. When the fish is cooked the way you like, remove it from the pan and keep warm.

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Black & Green Olive Sauce with Rosemary, Orange & Garlic

1/4 c. chopped Kalamata olives
1/4 c. chopped green Picholine olives
2 t. finely minced garlic
1 T. grated orange zest
1 T. minced fresh rosemary (see note)
2 T. fresh lemon juice
2 T. fresh orange juice
1/2 to 2/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/2 t. freshly ground black pepper
2 to 3 T. minced Italian flat leaf parsley (optional)

Combine all the ingredients and let sit at room temperature for up to an hour to allow the flavors to blend. Serve over grilled, pan-seared, poached or roasted fish. Refrigerate any unused portion. Serves 6 to 8.

Note: The original recipe calls for 2 T. rosemary. I didn't have that much on hand when I made the sauce this last time. I really liked the lesser amount...you should include the amount that you prefer.

(Recipe adapted from Kitchen Conversations by Joyce Goldstein)

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Two olive sauce with halibut, broccoli and
couscous with toasted pine nuts, currants and spring onions..

 

Ham & Bean Soup

Spring seems very late this year. I am hesitant to ever use the word "normal" to describe our Midwestern weather...but even so, this year does seem a bit unusual...the grass is just now beginning to green up a bit. I heard the weatherman use the phrase "ridiculously cold" to describe our current April temperatures. Last night, since we were under a hard freeze warning, I went out and picked the few daffodils that have been brave enough to bloom and brought them indoors rather than allow them to be lost to the cold. We have enjoyed them today...along with a fire in the fireplace from the last of the year's firewood.

The lateness of spring, combined with the fact that Easter was a bit early this year, put me in the unusual position of wanting to make Ham & Bean soup with the remains of our Easter ham. It is a mystery to me why the Easter holiday is traditionally celebrated with the consumption of a pork product...but so it is. Typically our leftover Easter ham is destined for sandwiches (which is just fine with me...I love a good ham sandwich)....or maybe a casserole with potatoes or a pasta with asparagus...but never ham & bean soup. Ham & bean soup is where the leftovers of a Christmas....or New Years... ham end up. And since my family almost never has ham over the winter holiday, I almost never get to make real Ham & Bean Soup...and by "real", I mean made with a meaty ham bone instead of a diced chunk of boneless ham.

The ham and bean soup that I make is—to borrow the weatherman's word—ridiculously simple. In fact, it is a great example of the magic of simplicity. In her book "The Supper Book" Marion Cunningham tells the charming story of how as a young bride she attempted to replicate her mother-in-law's delicious ham & bean soup for her husband. After much trial and error she finally gave up and just asked her mother-in-law for the recipe. When the recipe arrived she was shocked to discover that the soup had only four ingredients—ham, beans, onions & water. She said it was a lesson she never forgot—sometimes less really is more.

I have only changed her recipe in one respect. Instead of throwing all of the ingredients in a pot and just letting it cook, I begin by softening the onions in a bit of fat. I use olive oil, but butter would be good too. I don't think I ever make soup without including this step—it draws out the sweetness of the onions and serves to infuse the fat with their flavor...fat that will then permeate the entire soup. But if you prefer, you may make the soup without this step (I'm sure the soup will still be delicious.)

I have a distinct memory of the first time I ever tasted ham & bean soup. I was staying for a week with my paternal grandparents. Unlike Marion Cunningham's husband, my Dad must not have liked his mother's ham & bean soup, because it had never appeared on the table at my house. My grandparents were a bit mystified that I had never had it and that I didn't even know what it was. I remember that I thought it was delicious. I came home asking for it (to no avail, if memory serves).

The soup I had that first time was very thick, made with butter beans (a small lima bean) and served spooned over a warm, split biscuit. The soup I make is not as thick as my Grandma's. And I don't think I have ever made it with butter beans. I always use Great Northerns. But I imagine any bean would be good when paired with the ham. Even with these slight changes, I think my ham & bean soup is essentially the same one my grandmother (and countless others) would have made. As for the biscuit, years later I learned from a colleague that in her family they always served Ham & Bean soup ladled over warm, buttered cornbread. I have adopted this pairing of ham & beans with cornbread...but I keep the cornbread out of the soup bowl and serve it on the side (with lots of butter).

All in all, today turned out to be an extraordinary Spring day...one that encouraged stopping to ponder and appreciate the uniqueness of the moment: Sunny, bright blue April skies and daffodils ... accompanied by a cold breeze, a crackling fire and a warm bowl of Easter Ham & Bean soup.

Ham & Bean Soup

1 lb. dried white beans (Great Northern, Baby limas, Navy, etc.)
olive oil or butter
2 medium onions (about 1 lb), diced
1 meaty ham bone, or 2 cups diced ham

Rinse the beans and place in a deep container (large enough to hold at least twice the volume of beans). Fill the container with cold water and let the beans soak overnight. I put my soaking beans in the refrigerator, but if your room is cool, they can be left at room temperature. (If you are short on time you can use the quick soak method described in my post for White Bean Soup with Sausage & Swiss Chard.)

Drain the beans and rinse. Warm a tablespoon or two of oil or butter in a 6 quart pot set over moderate heat. Add the onions and sweat briefly so that the onions will begin to soften. Add the beans and the ham bone (or chopped ham) . Add cold water to cover the beans by about an inch to an inch and a half. Bring to a simmer. Skim away and discard any foam that comes to the surface. Continue to cook the soup at a gentle simmer, stirring occasionally.

After the soup has been cooking for about an hour, remove the ham bone and pull all the meat away from the bone. Return the bone to the pot and continue to simmer the soup until the beans are very tender—about another half hour. While the soup continues to simmer, go through the meat from the bone and remove any hard bits of gristle or excess fat and discard. Coarsely chop the meat and return it to the pot.

As the soup simmers, if it becomes too thick, simply add a little water to thin it to your preferred consistency. When the beans are tender, taste and correct the seasoning. Depending on your ham, you may or may not need to add more salt. Add a generous grinding of black pepper and divide among serving bowls. Serve with cornbread or biscuits on the side. Serves 6.

(Recipe adapted from The Supper Book by Marion Cunningham)

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