“Shhh! I gotta focus. I’m shifting into soup mode.”
— George Costanza, “The Soup Nazi” episode, Seinfeld
I realize this might be an unpopular opinion, especially among my fellow New Englanders, but nevertheless, I will unapologetically admit that I don’t hate January; in fact, I quite enjoy it. Part of my fondness for the first month of the year stems from my love of fresh starts, clean slates, and… new office supplies: A brand-new weekly planner, with its crisp, blank pages waiting to be filled with adventures and appointments and vacations and celebrations, makes me a little giddy with anticipation. But the other part of my affection for January comes from the slower pace that this month brings. After the holiday madness that is December, with all of its attendant cookie baking (and eating) and hosting and gathering and traveling and consuming of indulgent fare (none of which I am complaining about!), I relish the return to my routine and ordinary, everyday life. I really like ordinary, everyday life. But first, I need to recuperate from not-so-ordinary, chaotic holiday life, when I practically lived in my kitchen, and where butter, sugar, and cheese were my trusty companions. I always need a recovery week (or two) after the holidays, a break from cooking and baking morning ‘til night, during which the boys and I subsist on leftovers, freezer meals, and takeout. And then, (somewhat) rested and (more or less) recharged, it’s time to begin again, and I return to my kitchen refreshed and ready to tackle a new year of culinary adventures.
Inevitably, I begin with soup. A cursory look at the January issues of the many food magazines that have been arriving in my mailbox tells me that I should be ringing in this first month of the New Year with lots of green juices, smoothies, and salads. Now, as much as I enjoy consuming leafy greens and other vegetables in these various (chilly) forms, it is winter in New England after all, and it is C-O-L-D; frosty smoothies and cool salads will only remind me of this. But a nourishing, steaming H-O-T bowl of soup—especially one brimming with vibrantly colored vegetables, creamy beans, and toothsome whole grains—is the perfect antidote to the harshness of winter and the previous month of holiday excess. It is winter comfort food that fills you up and warms you from the inside out, yet won’t leave you feeling sluggish or weighed down.
Making soup is my favorite kind of cooking, and one of my favorite ways to spend time in my kitchen, especially on a snowy winter afternoon. After the frenetic pace of the holidays, losing myself in the rhythmic chopping of ingredients and the delightful aroma of a homemade soup simmering away on the stove becomes a meditation of sorts, slowing my hurried mind and allowing me to catch my breath, if only for a little while. And although making soup is not a complicated process, its series of steps that turn a handful of humble, wholesome ingredients into a delicious bowl of nourishing goodness can make you feel like a real, competent chef, without any advanced culinary skills required. Building flavor layer by layer, seasoning as you go… making a pot of soup can be a fun way to spend a leisurely Sunday afternoon, and you end up with dinner (and/or lunch) for days!
On these slower-paced Sundays in January, I also find I have more time, and therefore more patience, and I gladly welcome my young helpers into the kitchen. My younger son helps by peeling an onion or shallot, while my older son might be tasked with slicing mushrooms or peeling carrots. Although these are simple tasks, my boys still take great pride in knowing that they helped make dinner. And as a parent and cook, the process of making soup with your kids can make you feel like you are on top of your parenting/family-dinner game, a virtual rock star in the kitchen! And we could all use more moments like that in our lives, right?
This is the soup we have been making—and eating—all of January: a hearty minestrone of sorts, chock-full of vegetables, beans, and farro (a nutritious, fiber-rich whole grain that is popular in Italy). Its current, winter iteration in our house includes an assortment of vegetables, featuring sweet butternut squash balanced with the acidic tang of tomatoes and the meaty, umami flavor of cremini mushrooms. Are you already imagining your kids’ objections to these vegetables? Fear not! This soup takes kindly to substitutions. Switch up the vegetables for what’s in season in your area or what your family likes to eat. As for the farro, if you haven’t had the pleasure of eating it before now, I encourage you to give it a try. It’s a whole grain with a nutty flavor and a pleasingly chewy texture, similar to wheat berries or barley (which you can substitute if you can’t find farro). A few years ago, it was nearly impossible to find farro where I live, but now it’s more widely available. You can also substitute brown rice or even pasta for the farro, if you prefer. When I first started making this soup years ago when my kids were younger, I used a small pasta, such as ditalini or small shells, and then gradually transitioned to the farro. They gobble up the soup just as quickly now with the farro as they did with the pasta. Just start where you are.
So when you feel like you need some respite from the chaos and busyness of the holidays, or a month of too many cookies and too few vegetables, or just the cold reality of winter, may I suggest starting with this nourishing soup. Soup is always a good place to start.
Barley or wheat berries are a fine substitute for the farro if you have trouble finding it. You can even substitute brown rice or a small pasta, such as ditalini or small shells. I always cook the whole grains or pasta (especially pasta!) separately then add them to the soup during the last few minutes of cooking, rather than cooking the grains or pasta in the soup itself. I’ve found that this extra step keeps the grains or pasta from getting too soft and mushy and also from absorbing too much of the broth. Another advantage to using farro in this soup is that any leftover soup keeps well in the refrigerator for a few days and reheats beautifully while still retaining farro’s toothsome texture; I can’t always say the same for pasta. (Have I convinced you yet, farro newbies, to give this ancient grain a try?)
A few more notes I’d like to mention about making soup:
-- I try to use homemade stock (chicken or vegetable) when making this soup; it really does make a difference in flavor. But, truth be told, sometimes I don’t have any homemade stock on hand, I’m feeling kind of lazy, and I want soup NOW. A good-tasting, all-natural, store-bought broth with recognizable ingredients is a perfectly acceptable substitute. I try to seek out a low-sodium variety so that I can better control the amount of salt in the soup.
-- Season your soup with salt throughout the cooking process (e.g., when you add the onion, celery, and carrots, then again when you add the rest of the vegetables), not just at the end. Doing so helps to keep your soup from tasting “salty,” rather than properly seasoned. And keep in mind that your stock or broth will likely be salty, so go cautiously. A pinch of salt at each stage is usually enough.
-- I don’t remember where I originally saw this idea, but I recently started adding a leftover Parmesan rind to my pots of soup, letting it simmer away while the soup cooks, then fishing it out just before serving. It imparts a tremendous amount of flavor to the soup, and I urge you to give it a try! When you reach the end of a wedge of Parmesan, don’t discard it; pop it into a resealable plastic freezer bag or other freezer-safe storage container. Then when you’re making soup, reach into your freezer, grab a rind, and add it to your simmering pot of soup. It’s magical! And if you want to try this idea but don’t have any spent Parmesan rinds, look for containers of Parmesan rinds for sale in the cheese section of your local grocery store. (My local Whole Foods Market sells containers of two or three rinds for a couple of dollars.)
- -- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- -- 1 medium yellow onion, finely diced
- -- 1 medium shallot, finely diced
- -- 3 or 4 medium carrots, peeled and diced
- -- 2 stalks celery, diced
- -- 1½ tablespoons dried Italian seasoning
- -- 2½ cups peeled and diced butternut squash
- -- 1 (10-ounce) package of cremini mushrooms, sliced
- -- 4 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
- -- 1 (28-ounce) can diced tomatoes, undrained
- -- 8 cups (64 ounces) vegetable or chicken stock/broth (homemade or store-bought), plus more if needed to thin the soup (especially if reheating the next day)
- -- 1 Parmesan cheese rind (optional, but encouraged)
- -- 3 cups cooked white (cannellini) beans, or 2 (15-ounce) cans white (cannellini) beans, drained and rinsed
- -- 3 cups cooked farro * (or grain or pasta of your choice)
- -- Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
To serve:- -- Olive oil (optional)
- -- Pesto (optional)
- -- Grated Parmesan cheese (optional)
- In a large soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion, shallot, carrots, celery, Italian seasoning, and a generous pinch of salt and pepper; sauté, stirring frequently, until the onion and shallot are translucent and just starting to become golden, about 8 to 10 minutes.
- Add the squash, mushrooms, garlic, and another pinch of salt and pepper; stir and sauté until the mushrooms start to release some of their juices, about 5 minutes.
- Add the canned tomatoes with their juices, the broth or stock, and the Parmesan rind. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer uncovered until the vegetables are tender (but not mushy!), about 15 to 25 minutes. (Depending on how large or small you diced the squash, the time can vary.)
- Stir the beans and farro into the soup, and simmer a few minutes more until heated through. If the soup is too thick for your liking, add more stock or broth (or even water in a pinch).
- Remove and discard cheese rind. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve bowls of soup drizzled with olive oil or pesto and/or sprinkled with Parmesan cheese, if desired.
As farro has become more widely available, you’ll likely come across a few different varieties of farro in the grains aisle (or bulk bins) of the supermarket: whole, semi-pearled, and pearled. Pearling removes part (semi-pearled) or all (pearled) of the farro grain’s nutritious bran, to help reduce its cooking time. When I can find it, I usually opt for the “whole” (unpearled) farro variety, as it is the least processed and retains its bran, and therefore retains the most fiber and nutrients. However, the semi-pearled and pearled varieties do cook more quickly, making them an attractive option if you’re pressed for time. Alas, the type of farro isn’t always clearly labeled on the package: Some are simply labeled “farro”; others might be labeled “whole” farro or “whole-grain” farro when they are in fact semi-pearled. If you're unsure what kind of farro is inside the package, the suggested cooking times provided on the outside of the package can offer a helpful clue: Generally speaking, pearled and semi-pearled farro will cook in about half the time (20 to 30 minutes) as whole farro (45 to 60 minutes, or more).
Although navigating the wonderful world of farro at the grocery store can sometimes be a bit tricky, cooking farro is relatively easy. It's as simple as cooking pasta; it just takes a little more time. My best advice for cooking farro is simply to follow the package’s directions (some suggest soaking the farro first, which can help reduce cooking time), and start checking and tasting for “doneness” a few minutes before the lower end of the cooking time range given on the package. When it’s done, the farro should be tender, yet still a bit chewy, and retain its structure.
If you purchase your farro from the bulk bins of your local market, you likely won't have any package directions to follow once you get home, so I'll provide some basic instructions here for reference. Most directions for cooking farro follow the same general formula; this is the basic method I use to cook 1 pound of dried farro, which yields about 7 to 8 cups of cooked farro:
Rinse farro in a colander under cold running water. In a large pot, combine farro with enough water to cover by a few inches and a generous pinch of salt. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, skimming off any foam from the surface, then turn down the heat to a gentle simmer. Cook uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the farro is just tender and still a bit chewy (but not mushy), about 45 to 60 minutes (or more) for whole farro, or about half the time for pearled or semi-pearled farro. Drain the farro in a colander and set aside until ready to use.
(For this soup, I use only 3 cups of cooked farro, so you can cook up about half of a 1-pound package [8 ounces, or about a heaping cup of dried farro] and have enough for the soup. But since cooked farro freezes well, I like to cook the entire package and freeze what I don’t use in the soup; it saves me time in the long run, getting me one step closer to soup the next time I’m craving it, or a quick side dish the next time I’m rushing to make dinner.)
Vegetarians/vegans: This soup is vegetarian if you use vegetable, not chicken, stock/broth (obviously!). However, if you use the Parmesan rind, it is not technically vegetarian: Strict vegetarians do not eat Parmesan as rennet is used in the production of true Parmigiano-Reggiano. (Learn more here.) If this concerns you, leave out the Parmesan.
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