Forgotten Bean Soup

Bean Soup, as made (and forgotten about) by Ann

1 pound Anasazi or other medium-sized beans
2 cups (more or less) diced ham
2 medium onions, diced
1 medium carrot, diced
2 bay leaves
2 teaspoons dried thyme
2 teaspoons medium hot pepper
salt and pepper to taste

Wash beans and put in large pot with cold water to 2 inches above beans.  Bring to boil.  Cover and remove from heat; let sit for 1 hour.  Rinse.

Put everything in large pot with about 4 inches water above beans.  Bring to boil, reduce heat, and simmer 2 hours.

Either just before or just after eating this soup!

I mentioned this soup to my mom on the phone the other day, and she doesn't remember it - probably because it is not so much a recipe as a basic formula for a delicious bean soup.  Last time Dhruva and I visited New Mexico over the December break, there was a lovely mid-morning snow.  Snow in the desert is not only unusual - and thus more exciting - but it is also unusually beautiful.  Dhruva and I rushed outside for snow ball fights, snowman building, etc.  When we came back inside, the entire house smelled amazing - and this soup is what my mother was cooking.  There are few better, more comforting things on a cold day.  I had her write the recipe down for me, and it now has a place in my recipe book.  Since she forgot all about it, I wanted to give the "formula" back to her!

Ann's Version: Subconscious Bean Soup

Cassie and I had not discussed posting the bean soup recipe, but today while at the food coop I saw anasazi beans and got the urge for a filling soup.  I apparently wrote down the recipe for Cassie a couple of years ago but didn't keep a copy for myself since bean soup seems like a no-brainer.  Without using my brain I washed (but didn't presoak) a pound of anasazi beans and put them in a big pot with four smoked ham hocks (trying to use up things in the freezer), a chopped onion, 4 chopped garlic cloves, about 8 cups of water and a tablespoon of dried Peruvian huacatay.  I had no idea what this herb was and had bought it last summer for precisely that reason.  It apparently is also known as black mint or stinking roger (!?!) and tastes like a combo of mint and basil.  I also added a couple of fresh bay leaves from my quite vigorous small tree. After it came to a boil I simmered the soup for about an hour and a half until the beans were tender then added a couple of teaspoons of salt and some pepper.  This was the rare soup I didn't add either hot peppers or citrus juice to!  It was excellent and very satisfying.  Gordon thought it smelled good even with beans, onion, etc. so I gave him the cooked-to-death ham hocks which turned out to have very little meat on them.  More lovely soup for the freezer and future lunches!  Weird that Cassie and I both made anasazi bean soup on the same day without speaking, but how nice that our minds go in the same direction. 

Cassie's Version: Eventual Bean Soup

I finally made this again!  I posted the recipe quite a while ago but only got to actually preparing it last night.  I made the soup pretty much as written above, though I used an heirloom New England variety of bean instead of Anasazi, as that was all I could find.  The variety is called Jacob's Cattle Beans, and it is grown in Maine.  I have no idea what the name means, but they looked rather like Anasazi and were quite tasty.

To spice things up, I used a combination of a minced serrano, frozen from my mother's abundant supply, and several shakes of dried red pepper flakes (the spiciest ones you can imagine, made primarily from ground habaneros!).  At the very end, I added a scant capful of apple cider vinegar for a helpful bit of acidity.

This soup really is delicious!  Simple, filling, and extremely comforting.  It also makes the house smell wonderful.  Thanks, Mom!   

Wild Rice Soup

from Zingerman's Guide to Good Eating by Ari Weinzweig

2 T. butter
2 c. chopped leeks (about 2 lg. leeks)
1 rib celery, chopped
1 T. finely chopped parsley, plus more for garnish
1 minced garlic clove
5 c. chicken broth, plus more if needed
3 med. potatoes, cubed (about 3 c.)
1 med. parsnip in chunks (about 1 c.)
1-1/2 c. cooked wild rice (about 1/2 c. raw)
Salt and pepper

Melt the butter over med. high heat in a large stockpot, then add the leeks and saute until wilted, about 7 min.  Add the celery, 1 T. parlsey and garlic and saute for 2 min. more.  Add the broth, stir, and bring to a boil.  Reduce to simmer and add the potatoes and parsnip.  Simmer until they are tender, about 20 min.  Puree with a hand blender until smooth.  Stir in the cooked wild rice and heat through, adding more broth if it's too thick and salt and pepper to taste.  Garnish with chopped parsley.

ANN’S VERSION: Bad Night, Good Soup

I knew I’d be teaching until at least 7 p.m. last night, so I cooked the wild rice (just the right amount) the night before and thought it would be a quick supper to throw together.  Not so!  It wasn’t the soup per se, but events around the soup that delayed dinner until about 11 p.m.  By opening an email I thought was from one of my students I unleashed a really nasty virus on my computer, rendering it inoperable.  In the short bits of time between lessons I tried to clean it off, getting more and more frustrated.  Finally the last student left and I thought the soup would be reviving and soothing, but when I pulled the cold rice container from the back of the refrigerator where it was cleverly hidden there were only a few tablespoons left.  I had forgotten how Gordon can ferret out ready-to-eat food and I’d left the refrigerator unguarded for a few hours.  My cross-examination of him was less than kind, but I put another pot of rice on to simmer and got back to the computer. Soup and computer both were in good condition in a couple of hours, and Gordon even got a bowl of soup and deservedly so since he had brought the lovely long-grain wild rice back from his fishing trip to Canada.

Now, as to the soup preparation—the grocery store didn’t have either leeks or parsnips (I may have been the only shopper upset about this) so I substituted 6 small spring onions (I guess it’s spring somewhere in Mexico?) and a rutabaga, thinking they would be mellower than regular onions and turnips.  I followed the recipe up until the blending.  A wild rice soup with artichokes I  had in Michigan many years ago was always my idea of the ultimate comfort soup, so I added 2 cups of drained canned artichoke hearts (in brine, not oil) and pureed until it was still just a little lumpy (I prefer lumps as they fool me into feeling more filled up).  The little bit of  brine clinging to the artichoke added that essential hit of acidity.  The new batch of wild rice was done just when I ended the pureeing.  The rice went into the soup pot along with 2 more tablespoons of butter, more chopped parsley and quite a bit of salt and pepper.  It was really good for supper and really, really good for lunch today.  It did seem to thicken a fair amount overnight (kind of like loose mashed potatoes) so I’ll probably add some chicken broth next time I heat it up.

CASSIE'S VERSION: Mediocre Night... and Bad Soup

I suppose I've been putting off this post for so long because the soup I made was, unlike my mother's, truly bad.  I easily found all the ingredients at the grocery store (including a leek that was higher than my knee when placed alongside my shin, touching the floor!).  I too have Canadian wild rice, brought back from The North from my very generous father - and I had no one around to "mistakenly" eat what I prepared for the soup.  I thought it would be delicious and wise to add mushrooms sauteed in butter after I blended the soup - usually a good pairing with wild rice.  I also added two small minced serrano chiles, as I like everything spicy.  The result was absolutely terrible.  The biggest problem, I think, was the blending - blended potato is apparently quite repulsive.  Add to that the mushrooms and the butter sauce they cooked in, and I ended up with a very thick, murky, gray substance.  I ate it for two lunches and then put it down the garbage disposal.  I would have given this soup to Andrew Jackson! 

But tonight - tonight I am eating an always reliable, always delicious standby from my youth - potato leek soup!  No blending required!  I had to find some way to use up the tibia portion of my leek, since the fibula was sacrificed to the decidedly non-beautiful soup described above.