The hit of thanksgiving dinner: chestnut soup

Ok, so the season is upon us, and Annalena is up to her you know what in cooking. A dinner for 13 on Sunday (recently dubbed "the All Star dinner" by one friend), then Thanksgiving dinner for a gathering of 9.5 of us (someone showed up for dessert), and now, the holiday baking begins. Today is candy day: grapefruit peel (which means Kevin gets grapefruit sorbet), and quince paste. Cookies up and coming. And coming. And coming. Then the Christmas dinner, then the feast of a thousand dishes at New Year's. Good thing my feet don't hurt much this year.

But as usual, I digress. The Thanksgiving dinner this year was quite a wonderful affair. Smartest thing I ever did was insist on NOT sitting at the head of the table. I have such a ball now. And for those of you who "spiked" my party - and you know who you are (that means you, Brad), thanks so much.

And I digressed again. There ya go. Life in the stream of unconsciousness. Oi. Anyway, the hit of the meal , I think, was the chestnut soup.

I love chestnuts. When I was last in Europe, 12 years ago, it seemed that there was a chestnut vendor on every corner of Zurich. And these were GOOD chestnuts, not the kind we get at the hot dog vendors in NYC this time of year. Does anybody buy them? Does anybody like them? How many chestnuts die in the name of "tis the season," and then get tossed in trash cans because they taste nasty (Trust Annalena here. They do). But chestnuts ARE wonderful. Trust Europeans. They know about this type of thing. "Castagne," in Italian, we make them into candies, into breads, into custards, so many things. I don't really know of Italian chestnut soup, but wherever this one came from, it is quite wonderful. You should make it. Really, you should.

First, let's talk about sourcing the chestnuts (NOT "saucing" the chestnuts you twits). You can, if you feel ambitious, buy fresh chestnuts, score them, roast them, peel off the skins and hurt your fingers a whole lot along the way. Annalena has done that. She is over it. Truly and unconditionally. Now, she looks toward the "preprepared" route. You can get them, peeled , in jars. Some are packed in water (which is your least favored option), some are vacuum packed (better). Best of all, in my opinion, are the little vacuum packed pouches. The quality is much higher. The downside here is that the packets are very small. For this recipe, needing about a pound of chestnuts, you need 3-4 packs. The jars have more in them. Use what ya got.

Let's start with the base. It's a classic soup base: a half cup each of chopped carrot, celery, and onion. You 'll also need 3 tablespoons of butter. When I saw the original recipe, it called for a bouquet garni of parsley leaves, cloves and bay leaf. Sounds good, but chestnuts have a delicate flavor. Cloves, do not. It's sort of like the difference between a Schubert art song, and a Wagnerian opera. Those of you with some musical background will get what I mean, and those of you who don't, ask someone who does. I will digress no longer. In any event, I leave out the garni. You will also need that pound of chestnuts, and about six cups of chicken stock. Finally, you need a quarter cup of some strong tasting liquor in the sherry family: dry sherry, madeira, marsala (the dry variety), even vermouth, would do. Stay away from wine, port, or anything with a sweet edge. Chestnuts have a slightly sweet flavor, and that sweetness will take over the dish if you give it a chance to. Sweet liquors give it that chance. Optionally, you may want some heavy cream.

Now, let's cook. Melt the three tablespoons of butter in a big pot, and then add the carrot/celery/onion and cook at a medium heat (QUICK REVIEW: what do we call that combination of carrot/celery/onion, in French cooking? In Creole cooking? Have you been paying attention?????).

While the holy trinity is cooking, drain your chestnuts, and crumble them up in your fingers. It won't be difficult, they're fairly friable (look it up). Add them to the vegetables and butter, and cook for a minute or two. Add the liquor, and keep your face back when you do. If the pot is big enough, since you aren't using a lot of the hooch, the chance of a flame up is minimal, but do be careful. You worked hard to grow that moustache, and it really does suit you.

Now add the stock. Lower the heat, cover the pot, and go away for about twenty minutes. When you come back, the chestnuts will be very soft. This is a good thing. Turn off the heat, leave the cover off, and let the stuff cool down. When it is just warm, start pureeing it in a blender, in small batches. Use more time than you think you will need, else you will have little chunks of chestnuts. Not necessarily a bad thing, but if you want a smooth as silk soup, you have to take the time to do this.

Taste the soup after you've pureed it all, and then add the salt it needs. Think a minute as to whether you want cream or not. If you think the soup is slightly sweet, and you'd rather it wouldn't be, add the cream. Anywhere from 1/4 to 1/2 a cup. Stir it, and you are done. Maybe....

A wonderful garnish for this, is more chestnuts, crumbled, cooked in more butter, and with some more of that liquor added to the frying pan (NOW, you DO have to be careful with your moustache), and added to the soup right before you serve it.

If you analyze this soup, even at a base level, it is essentially the same soup we've been making for years in this blog, only with chestnuts as the main vegetable. Today, for example, I made carrot soup, and as I think about it, the recipe is the same, save for the substitution of carrots for chestnuts.

Learn the basic recipe for making soup: the base, the fat, the stock, and the key vegetable. You're on your way to a whole lot of pots, of really good eating.

If you feel "oh, chestnuts are holiday food," well.. Feliz Navidad...