A post about soup

For her Christmas party last year, my friend Rachel made the most amazing caramelized onion, thyme and goat's cheese tart.  (But wait! you say, isn't this post about soup?  Yes it is.  Be patient.)  The pastry was rich, crisp and flaky, the goat's cheese the perfect balance of creamy and tangy and the thyme fragrant -- but it was the onions that were the absolute star of the show.  I was fortunate, or perhaps unfortunate, enough to be present in the kitchen as, for an entire hour, they caramelized ever-so-slowly on the stove, turning meltingly sweet and golden in a buttery glaze and releasing the most divine aroma whenever the lid was lifted on the pot.  I say unfortunate because being tantalised by this mouthwatering, heavenly scent, while simultaneously having to resist the temptation to dip a spoon in and just eat the lot, was a form of exquisite torture!

I don't, sadly, have the recipe for this incredible tart.  (Though I am hoping to cajole Rachel into giving it to me at some point; stay tuned...)  And that is why this is a post about soup.

When Lee requested tomato soup from scratch (rather than the usual Heinz classic) for dinner one night, a couple of months ago, I had to think about how I was going to make something that would taste like more than watered-down pasta sauce.  I knew it had to be savoury and aromatic with a sweetness more complex than that produced just by adding sugar -- and my mind jumped, unbidden, back to the intense olfactory memory of those delectable caramelized onions: deliciously buttery, rich and sweet.

I had onions in the pantry and carrots and celery in the crisper, as is usual whenever the kitchen is active (i.e., not in Mother Hubbard mode); canned tomatoes in the cupboard; and an array of flavourings and seasonings to hand.  I caramelized all the vegetables, resulting in added sweetness from the carrot as well as onion, cooked everything slowly to develop a rich flavour, and used some extra touches at the end to zing it up a bit.  The result?  Eminently satisfying.

Lee wanted tomato soup again tonight, so I took this opportunity to recreate the recipe and blog about it...

(yes, my spoon says SPOON.  Just in case you were having difficulty figuring out what it was.)

Rich Tomato Soup
1 tbs butter
2 medium red onions, finely chopped
2 medium carrots, finely chopped
1-2 sticks celery, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2-1 cup red cabbage, shredded (I forgot, this time around, that I used this initially -- soup still tasted good, but the cabbage did add an extra sweetness and also intensified the colour)
1/4 cup white wine (or 2 tbs sherry -- I am out of sherry at the moment)
2 tbs balsamic vinegar
2 cans (440g each) chopped tomatoes
1 can water
2 stock cubes + 2 tsp vegie spice (or use all one sort)
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Optional flavourings:
grated zest of 1/2 a lemon or lime
squeeze lemon/lime juice
1-2 tbs brandy or other spirit (+/- a dash extra to serve)
dash Tabasco
sprinkle of chopped coriander

Melt butter in a (preferably non-stick) saucepan over medium low heat; add onions, stir and leave to cook, covered, for about 5 min; add carrot, cook another 5 min; add celery and cabbage (if using) and continue to cook, covered, until vegetables begin to caramelize, another 10 min or so -- they will smell sweet, start to turn golden-brown and try to stick just a bit to the bottom of the pan.  Add the garlic and let caramelization continue for about 5-10 min longer (if mixture is quite sticky then stir frequently; burnt garlic is never a good flavour!).

Splosh in the white wine or sherry and the vinegar and inhale the delicious smell rising from the pan.  Add the tomatoes; dissolve the stock cubes/powder in hot water in the can, to rinse, and add to pan.  Bring to a simmer for about 10 minutes to allow flavours to meld, then whiz gently with a stick blender (did I mention how much I love my hand blender?) until desired consistency -- I like mine without obvious pieces of vegetable remaining, but not completely homogeneous.  Season with salt and black pepper to taste.

At this stage you can add the optional extra flavourings (highly recommended).  The first time I used a bit of lime zest and juice stirred in at the end, and a dash of brandy in each bowl before serving up.  The alcohol helps release the flavour in organic compounds, enhancing the richness and complexity of the soup -- well, that's the theory, anyway.  My philosophy has always been that if you are generous with the drinks, guests never seem to complain about the quality of the food...

Today I was out of brandy (oops) and I wasn't sure whether Lee would approve of gin as a substitute (we are also out of vodka.  It's been a tough couple of months) so I did two serving variations: Lee got a tiny bit of butter swirled into the soup to melt (to carry the fat-soluble flavours and enhance richness), and I tried out the gin option myself.  I also used lemon zest and juice instead of lime (I do have a lime in the fridge, I just thought I'd do something different) and garnished both our bowls with a few coriander leaves.  If I'd been braver (read: more certain it would work well) I would have sprinkled chopped coriander over the top -- it did work, as it turns out!  And the gin was a success too (*hic*): I like my Bloody Marys made with gin, and the subtle juniper flavour also worked well here.  Next time I'll be interested to Margaritise the recipe with tequila, lime and extra black pepper -- I bet the coriander would complement those flavours perfectly!

I don't know about the butter as I didn't try Lee's bowl, but there were no complaints.  (And I didn't give him anything to drink, either.)