Light Broccoli Cheddar Soup

Never mind that it's almost 70 degrees today--last week it got a bit chilly and I was in the mood for soup.  I saw a delectable recipe for broccoli cheese soup on Pioneer Woman which really brought matters to a must-make-soup-crisis, but the amount of fat in the recipe pushed that past crisis mode, over the edge, down a cliff with an arrow sticking through your side and then you get attacked by zombies.  Sorry, too much Walking Dead there.


So I thought I would try looking for a lighter version.  Lo and behold I found a recipe adapted from, you guessed it, America's Test Kitchen.  I swear I use recipes from other sources, just not right now.  


This soup benefits from tons of broccoli--I weeded out recipes using only 6 or 8 oz of broccoli, which is not enough. I mean what am I supposed to do with the rest of the broccoli head? It also uses leeks instead of onions.  While I'm sure you could substitute onions, I think the leeks gave this soup a leaner bite that kept it from being too cloying.


However, I could totally be making that up.


The soup derives its "thickness" from evaporate fat free milk (genius) and of course some blending at the end.


Keep in mind that this isn't a thick, creamy soup.  It is definitely more of a soup as opposed to a hearty chowder-type consistency. Nevertheless, the flavor was spot-on and for the sake of continuing to excuse my lack of exercise, I would make this soup again.


Adapted from America's Test Kitchen

• 1 bunch broccoli (about 1 ½ pounds), florets cut into 1-inch pieces, stems trimmed and sliced 1/4 inch thick
• 1 pound leeks, white and light green parts only, halved lengthwise, sliced thin, and rinsed thoroughly (see leek-cleaning method here)
• 2 teaspoons canola or other neutral oil
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 3 cups low-sodium chicken broth
• 1 cup water
• ¾ cup fat-free evaporated milk (in these parts, this product comes in 5 oz. cans, which is a bit less than 3/4 cup. Nobody threw the soup back in my face so I think the 5 oz. is okay.)
• 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
• 4 ounces extra-sharp cheddar cheese, shredded (about 1 cup) (okay I might have been a little more generous with the cheddar cheese--that or my 4 oz. were super 4 oz. because I ended up with about 2 cups)
• Salt and pepper

Serves 4 to 6

Hack your broccoli to pieces.  Keep the florets and stems separate.

Prep your leeks (see link above to how to clean leeks).  

In a large pot, combine the broccoli STEMS (not the florets, not yet, oh just you wait), leeks, oil and 1/8 tsp salt and turn heat to medium or medium low.  Cover (I forgot to do this) and cook, stirring once or twice, until vegetables are starting to soften, about 6 to 8 minutes.  Uncover and stir in garlic.

Stir in broth and water, and raise heat to medium high to bring mixture to a simmer. 

Cover, reduce heat to medium-low to keep things at a simmer, until broccoli stems are softened, about 8 minutes.  Add the broccoli florets, cover, and cook until everything is tender, about 5 minutes.

Now for the blending.  You can either use an immersion blender or a regular blender.  If using an immersion blender, you'll kinda have to "trap" broccoli pieces with the immersion blender "cup", blend it, then pick it up and move it around to get all the pieces.  Don't lift the immersion blender too much or else you'll spatter.  It's like playing whack a mole.  

If you use a traditional blender, do it in two batches. I can't give you any more tips because the last time I blended a hot liquid it exploded all over the place, even after taking the precaution of taking out the center thingamajig from the lid.  If you use a blender, transfer the mixture back to the pot after you're done.

Whisk in the evaporated milk and mustard, and warm over low heat.  

Turn off the heat and whisk in the cheese.  

Season to taste with salt and pepper, and sprinkle a little extra cheese over the top for serving.  Why not.

Makes a nice, light meal with a couple of toasted bread slices.  Ta-da!

Cranberry Bean Bruschetta

Way back when, my sister introduced me to cranberry beans and a lovely little snack made with said beans.  She simmered the cranberry beans with garlic and water (and bacon or parmesan rind or tomato or...this recipe is flexible) with a sprinkling of sage at the end--perfect for topping little slices of toasted baguette.  The beans take a bit unfairly long to cook, at least 40 minutes, but if you have time, the result is savory and delicious.

So whenever I see healthy cranberry beans at the grocery store or farmers' market, I grab a bunch to make this cranberry bean topping.  Haha that's a lie. I love how that sentence made me seem like this person that cheerfully roams around markets with a cute little basket on her arm, blissfully caressing all the produce, having a little go-to recipe for each vegetable that she can make in her sleep. Whatever.  In the 10 years or so since my sister showed me this dish, I've made it about 4 times.  How's that for frequency.

You'll need:

• 3/4 lb to 1 lb of fresh cranberry beans in the pod
• Enough water or chicken stock to cover beans in small pot
• 1 to 2 garlic cloves, smashed
• About a 2-inch square piece of parmesan or one slice of bacon, diced
• 1 or 2 plum tomatoes, seeded and diced
• About 5 medium-sized sage leaves, thinly sliced
• Baguette slices, about 1/4-inch thick and toasted

Shuck your cranberry beans (is it shucking beans? Some other term? I don't know.).  Never seen a cranberry bean? Here you go.

Beautiful, aren't they? Well, enjoy those cranberry stripes while they last, they disappear in the cooking.

Place beans in a small pot with enough water to cover by 1/2 inch. Throw in the garlic cloves.  I threw in the parmesan later because I initially forgot it, but this would be the time to put in the parmesan rind or bacon (or hell, both).

Turn heat to high until water is boiling, then lower heat to a simmer.  Simmer, covered, for about 40 minutes or until beans are tender, checking every once in a while to make sure water doesn't get too low.

When beans are tender but not mushy, throw in the diced tomato.

Simmer, uncovered, for about 15 more minutes until the mixture is a nice brown color, and everything looks melded together.  Fish out the parmesan rind, if using, since it will be a floppy mess by now.

Sprinkle with sage, and load that topping on your crostini. Or bruschetta. I don't know the difference. I am talking out of my ass.

You can make this with other beans as well, and with dried beans. But don't expect me to give you directions on that.  I've only made this 4 times.

Ta-da!

Fava Bean Crostini

I always thought of fava beans as a spring thing, but for some reason they've been popping up at our farmers' markets the past few weekends. Weird. Anyway, Kevin loves fava beans. And I am his slave, so I cook up whatever he chooses at the farmers' market.  Kidding. Kind of. Don't get me started about the time he bought 10 lbs of cauliflower.

We both like the ritual of prepping the fava beans together. It's kind of meditative, and a fun little task to do together.  If you haven't cooked with fava beans before, there are a few steps.  The fava beans are enclosed in not only a pod, but each one is also robed in a thin layer of shell that needs to be removed.  

The beans, in their shells, in the pods

These are multi-layered, complex creatures

See what I mean?

The shell needs to be removed also

In order to remove the thin shell, you have to: (1) remove beans (which are still in shells, obviously) from their pods; (2) boil beans for 60-90 seconds; (3) drain beans and put in cold water bath to stop cooking; (4) drain; and (5) peel off the shell.  

Re: step #5: Someone taught me that the easiest way to peel off the shell was to make a little tear at the "bottom" of the bean--NOT the end where it was attached to the pod, which seems like the intuitive thing to do.  Be all counter-intuitive and pinch a little hole in the bottom, and gently squeeze the opposite end until the naked, bright green bean pops out.  I didn't take pictures of this process, but this person did:

See how someone created a whole at the "bottom", instead of where the little green cap is at the top, where it originally connected to the pod? I am beleaguering the point.

Remember those fava beans we purchased?  I decided to make fava bean crostini with our precious bounty.  Here are the ingredients:

• 1 cup shelled fresh fava beans (1 1/4 pounds in pods)
• 1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, divided, plus additional for drizzling
• 1 1/2 cups packed baby arugula (1 1/2 ounces), divided
• 3 tablespoons grated Pecorino Toscano or Parmigiano-Reggiano
• 1/4 teaspoon grated lemon zest
• 1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
• 1 baguette
• 1 garlic clove, halved crosswise
• 16 mint leaves

Note: I only had a few leaves of arugula, and COMPLETELY did not see the mint part.  Oops. I bet that would have been good, but oh well.

Place the cooked, deshelled beans in a food processor.

Pulse until coarsely chopped, and then remove half of chopped beans.  To the remaining half of chopped beans in the food processor, add the rest of the ingredients. (Note below my few measly arugula leaves and complete absence of mint leaves.)

Take processed mixture and fold into the chopped beans you had set aside earlier.

The recipe says to toast baguette slices and rub with olive oil and garlic, but we had just gotten this nutty glorious brown bread from Cayuga Pure Organics at the farmers' market so we used that instead.  I'm sure the flavor of the bean puree would have come through more clearly on plain baguette slices, but c'est la vie it was still yummy.

Ta-da! Satisfying little snack.