Tuscan White Bean and Garlic Soup

I'm a big fan of dried beans. They're cheap, easy (though time-consuming) to make, and, with the right spices, so delicious. When our church's youth group decided to have a soup lunch fundraiser, I found this yummy dried-bean recipe and made it as my contribution. Like most bean soups, it's better if you can make it the day before and refrigerate it overnight. Really melds those flavors. 

This recipe comes from Cooks Illustrated, one of my favorite cooking publications ever. If you haven't checked it out, definitely do.

Serves 6-8

INGREDIENTS

6 oz pancetta, one 1-inch-thick slice, cut into 1" cubes (can also use bacon instead of pancetta, or, to make it vegetarian, omit the meat and replace with a 4-ounce piece of parmesan rind.)
1 lb dried cannellini beans, rinsed and picked over (can substitute Great Northern beans if you can't find cannellinis)
1 large onion, unpeeled and halved pole to pole, plus 1 small onion, diced medium 
4 medium unpeeled garlic cloves, plus 3 medium peeled garlic cloves, minced
1 bay leaf
Salt and ground black pepper
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus extra for serving
1 sprig fresh rosemary
Balsamic vinegar, for serving

In large, heavy-bottomed stock pot, cook pancetta over medium heat until just golden, 8 to 10 minutes.

Add 12 cups of water, beans, halved onion, unpeeled garlic, bay leaf, and 1 tsp salt; bring to boil over medium-high heat. Cover pot partially; reduce heat to low, and simmer, stirring occasionally, until beans are almost tender, 1 to 1 h1/4 hours.

Remove beans from heat, cover, and let stand until beans are tender, about 30 minutes.

Reserve the cooking liquid as you drain the beans, keeping five cups of the liquid for the soup. If you have extra, save it for adding to another soup. If you don't have enough, add some water.

Toss out the cooked pancetta, onion, garlic, and bay leaf. You might have to fish out some of the onion skins, too. Spread the beans in even layer on baking sheet to cool.

While the beans are cooling, heat oil in your heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat until shimmering; add diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until soft, 5 to 6 minutes. Reduce heat and stir in minced garlic , cooking for about 30 seconds.

Add cooled beans and cooking liquid; increase heat to medium-high and bring to simmer. Remove from heat. Submerge rosemary sprig in liquid, cover and let infuse for 15 to 20 minutes. Throw away the rosemary sprig and season to taste with salt and pepper. For an authentic dish, toast pieces of crusty bread, place them in the bottom of the bowl, and ladle soup over it. Drizzle with extra-virgin olive oil, and serve, passing balsamic vinegar separately.

Hot Mocha Mudslide

There's a clean swath of white coating the hillsides, leaving little hats on the fenceposts, revealing the to's and fro's of man and animal alike. I can see it all from my kitchen window, and it makes me long for a warm beverage served in a hefty stoneware mug, topped with a dollop of rich, homemade whipped cream. Often, I'll fill the copper-bottomed soup pot with a batch of steaming cocoa, but, as of late, I've had a hankering for a Hot Mocha Mudslide, that perfectly sweet sipping stuff that delivers just a bit of a gut-warming kick. To offer this to the littles in the household, trade the Baileys and Kahlua for 1/4 cup instant espresso. In our household, where we have both grown-ups and younguns, we make it without the espresso and add the Baileys and Kahlua to each cup. That's how I've offered it here, with notes on how to do it differently, if you prefer. I always double it to give ample amounts of chocolatey goodness to each member of our family. This fills about 10 regular coffee mugs. 

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Hot Mocha Mudslide

Adapted from 2010 Christmas with Southern Living

1 cup unsweetened, dutch-process cocoa
1 cup sugar
2 cups half-and-half
6 cups milk
4 teaspoons vanilla extract
Baileys Irish Creme
Kahlua 

Whisk the cocoa, sugar and half-and-half in a big saucepan over medium heat. Whisk constantly until sugar dissolves, but don't bring to a boil. Add the milk, increase heat to medium-high and whisk constantly, about 5 minutes (but don't boil). Whisk in the vanilla and pour into mugs. Add 1.5 tablespoons of Baileys Irish Creme and 1 tablespoon Kahlua to each (adult!) mug. If you're making the whole batch for adults, add 1/2 cup Baileys and 1/4 cup Kahlua to the whole batch. For a hot mocha without alcohol, omit the Baileys and Kahlua and add 1/4 cup instant espresso. 

Top the mugs with homemade whipped cream and a drizzling of either Kahlua or chocolate syrup. 

Split Pea Soup

I'd heard about split pea soup most of my life, and, from what I'd heard, I didn't want any part of it. It brought to mind all of the childish jokes one can never quite force out of one's head.

What's the difference between chopped beef and pea soup?
Everyone can chop beef, but not everyone can pea soup!

and

No matter what question I ask, you answer “pea soup.”
What did you have for breakfast? (Your turn)
What did you have for lunch? (You again)
What did you have for dinner? (Yep. Your line)
What did you do all night? (You one more time, followed by uproarious laughter. Okay, maybe silence, or groans of disgust).

But as late this year's September carried in some premature October chill and the leaves just couldn't wait to slip into their glorious golds and resplendent rusts and alluring ambers, it was time to break out the soup pot. We'd already done chili. We'd just about overdosed on red beans and rice. We'd had as much lentil soup and curried lentils as we could possibly handle. I'd even mixed it up a bit with a few bowls of creamed chicken and wild rice. What other steaming deliciousness could I bring forth with a few spices and a spin of my magical wooden spoon?

A quick search brought me to the infamous pea soup I'd so steadfastly dismissed. Maybe it was time to change my mind. First, I had to convince myself that I wouldn't actually pee green soup if I mixed up a batch. And since the ingredients are so inexpensive, I'd be out little more than the two hours it takes to simmer the stuff.

Parker's Split Pea Soup by Ina Garten looked most appealing to me, with a few variations from me, because, hey, bacon. The result? An earthenware bowl filled with goodness the color of summer slipping into autumn, with its creamy split peas, warm carrots and tender redskinned potatoes. And the flavor is wonderful--slightly sweet and deliciously savory. I made a double batch, thank goodness, and a cooker full of rice to make it stretch, though one batch will make a plentiful meal for five folks, especially when paired with some crusty bread. 

So, forget the grade-school humor and give this dish a shot, because if you haven't enjoyed a bowl of pea soup, let me assure you, my friend--the joke's on you. 

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Scrumptious Split Pea Soup

1 cup chopped yellow onions
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/8 cup good olive oil
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1 bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1-1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 cups medium-diced carrots (3 to 4 carrots)
1 cup medium-diced red potatoes, unpeeled (3 small)
1 pound dried split green peas
8 cups chicken or vegetable stock or water
1/2 pound bacon, fried crisp, crumbled and set aside

Heat the olive oil in a thick-bottomed stockpot over medium heat and saute the onions until they start to brown, 10 to 15 minutes. Add the oregano and stire for a minute. Add the carrots, potatoes, garlic, half the split peas (1/2 pound), and stock. Bring to a boil, simmering uncovered for 40 minutes. Skim off the foam while cooking. Add the remaining split peas, red pepper flakes and bay leaf, and simmer another 40 minutes, or until all the peas are soft. Stir frequently (very important) to keep from burning on the bottom. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Top with bacon and dig in. 

Pop's Lip-Smackin', Raven-Rippin' Chili

Okay, before you ask, I'm just gonna say, I have no idea. While I can tell you that this chili is, indeed, lip-smackin', I can't even begin to imagine what "raven-rippin'" means, or why it applies to this particular dish. I know it's a reference to the Baltimore Ravens, but I'm not sure why a Marylander would want to rip them and I don't get how chili would do the job.

But back in September, our family--including all five kids ranging from age 9 to 22, plus a family friend--was returning from a vacation to Chincoteague, Virginia, land of the wild ponies, when we pulled over for a picnic at a rest stop outside of Annapolis. While there, a local couple struck up a conversation with us having seen our Ohio plates, asking us about our travels; What part of Ohio were we from?Where had we been? What had we seen? Had we enjoyed ourselves? How long had we stayed?

As we were climbing into our overly-packed minivan, still sandy from the beach, the woman told us to stay put; she had some reading materials for us for our long ride home. My husband and I glanced at each other nervously as the woman hurried to her station wagon and returned with a fistful of papers. Turns out it was a stack of monthlies called the Broadneck Baloney, nearly a dozen copies of the same edition. They were, she said, compiled, written and edited by her husband (though the credits say it was edited by Elvis Presley, Jr.), who stayed silent during the conversation and, based on his t-shirt and the majority of the content in the publication, had a substantial preoccupation with brewskies. 

Just about everyone in the car had their own copy, so we could all enjoy the jokes peppered throughout. There were silly ones ("If your child refuses to take a nap, is he or she guilty of resisting a rest?" and "No one knew I had a dental implant until it came out in a conversation") and slightly off-color ones (I'll refrain from providing an example). I asked the woman why it was called the Baloney, thinking it was some local colloquialism, but she said it was because everything in it was just a bunch of baloney.

Within the pages was this recipe by C.G., courtesy, the Broadneck Baloney says, of Bella's Wine and Spirits, who also presented Ask Aunt Berthabelle, a mock advice column with gems like this:

"Dear Aunt Berthabelle: 

I recently discovered by husband in the garage drinking brake fluid. He says he likes it, and it's less expensive than nasty drug and alcohol habits. Am I justified to be as worried as I am about his health?

Bess Twishes, Mediocre Mills

Dear Bess:

I wouldn't worry too much about him, my dear. If he's drinking brake fluid, he should be able to stop any time he wants to."

I've tweaked Pop's Lip-Smackin', Raven-Rippen Chili a little bit and I present my version here, for your cool-weather enjoyment. 

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2 pounds of lean ground beef
1 pound of bacon
1 large onion
3 large peppers (any color)
2 (28-ounce) cans Mexican-style stewed tomatoes
1 1/2 cups red kidney beans (I prefer dried ones, soaked and cooked)
1/2 cup black beans (same as above)
1/2 cup red wine
2 tablespoons red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon cumin powder
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 tablespoon ground coriander
salt and pepper to taste
3 cloves of garlic, minced 
Shredded cheddar cheese
Cooked white rice 

Cook bacon until crisp and set aside. Using three tablespoons of the bacon grease, saute the onions and peppers until soft and beginning to brown. 

Meanwhile, brown the ground beef in a large pot. Drain. To that, add the beans, tomatoes, red wine, spices, onions and peppers. Add salt and pepper to taste. Simmer on medium-low for a couple of hours or in a crock pot on low for five hours. Add the minced garlic and simmer a few minutes more. Serve over rice and top with cheddar and crumbled bacon. 

Buttermilk Chicken Finger Wraps with Garlic Mayonaisse

Because all five of my children, ages 9-22, are home for the summer, there are now seven mouths to feed again. That's a lot of cooking! So I came up with a plan. We've been doing this for about four weeks now, and it seems to be working well. Each person takes one dinner per week, with a main dish, bread, side dish and vegetable and, sometimes, a dessert. This way, there's a great dinner to look forward to every day, and no one has to cook dinner more than once a week. Even the youngest, who's nine, gets to make yummy stuff, and she's thrilled about it. And if each person gets four or five meals under their belt, and the more seasoned cooks a few more, we have a decent rotation and pretty good variety.

Tonight, Jaynie, who's 13, wanted to make chicken wraps, so here's what we came up with. We set out the toppings and let each person craft their own wraps.

This recipe is broken into three parts--the toppings, the garlic mayonaisse, and the chicken tenders. 

Start by getting the toppings ready.

Here's what we used:

Thinly-sliced red onions

Tomatoes in small chunks

Romaine lettuce

Shredded white cheddar

Diced avocados

Feta cheese

Flatbreads, like Flatout wraps

Next, mix up the garlic mayonaisse:

1 cup mayonaisse

1/2 teaspoon cumin

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 clove garlic, minced

cracked pepper to taste

Put in the fridge until ready to use.

Finally, make the chicken tenders (adapted from this recipe by Rachael Ray):

Vegetable oil for frying

2 cups flour

1 tablespoon dry mustard

1 tablespoon paprika

1 tablespoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

2 teaspoons seasoning salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Buttermilk

1 1/2 to 2 pounds chicken tenders

Place buttermilk in a zip-type bag or reusable container and let marinade for anywhere from 20 minutes to overnight.

Mix the dry ingredients in a shallow dish.

Pour about 2 inches of vegetable oil into a cast-iron skillet or dutch oven. Heat to about 350°F.

While the oil is heating, pour chicken and buttermilk into another shallow container.

Using your pointer finger and thumb, dip chicken tenders in the flour, then back into the buttermilk. Repeat.

Fry the chicken tenders in the hot oil and fry, turning once, until golden brown and cooked through, about three minutes per side. If they seem to be brown enough but you're not sure, take one out and cut it through the thickest part. If it's white all the way through, it's done.

Remove from oil with a metal slotted spoon and drain in a mesh colander set over a metal bowl or pan and let cool for a minute. You might have to season slightly with salt and pepper. Now, you can either leave the tenders whole, or cut them into chunks for your wraps.

Slather your wrap with garlic mayo, fill with fixings, toss on a few chicken tender pieces, and enjoy!