Coming home: rustic summer squash soup

Ciao, ragazzi.  Yes, Annalena abandoned you for half a year.  She will not explain, but she has returned.  Indeed, she has returned from a two plus week excursion to Sicily, where she learned SO much, and hopefully, she has recalled enough of it to share some of it with you.  Today, we are focusing on one of those issues that confront us all from time to time:  you come home from a trip, and... what do you cook ?

Well, ok, some of you don't face that question.  You face the question:  what menu do we pull out and order from?  OK, those of you in that camp, may proceed to something else; however, for those looking for an easy dish, Annalena has one for you.    Take a look at this beautiful soup:

And so easy to make.  This , as with so many dishes, comes out of a combination of things. First, Annalena had her CSA basket, which contained a goodly quantity of summer squash.  Now, at this time of year, which is essentially early autumn, ragazzi, if you are looking for summer squash, do not expect to find the small, crispy ones you found in dead summer.  The weather is now too cold, and what summer squash you will find, is large.  These are the zucchini (which should perhaps be called zucchoni), that escaped surveillance when the farmers were picking the small ones earlier in the year.  When we had these at home, Nana always made soup.  Indeed, Annalena was brought back to that time while in Sicily, because cucuzza was in season, and is everywhere.  Now, if you do not know what is cucuzza, do google it.  There are some derogatory names for it Annalena learned in her youth. She will not repeat them here.  Suffice it to say that, as far as Annalena knows,  cucuzza is used almost exclusively to make soup.  And it used almost exclusively to make soup AT HOME.  (This is one of those dishes, ragazzi, that she never saw on a restaurant menu.  In a country where seasonality rules, this surprised Annalena; however, she remembered that ALL Italians, unlike Americans, do NOT eat in a restaurant what they can make at home).  This recipe very much follows the cucina magra (thin cooking, or, cooking on the poor), which Annalena remembered Nana relying on so heavily.  

Abbastanza.  Let's cook.    First, you start with your aromatic base.  This can change.  In her refrigerator, Annalena had precious little.  She had garlic, she had onions, and she had a bunch of what she  thought was parsley.  It was not.  More below.    There were no carrots, but there WAS a green pepper:

The head of garlic was small, so Annalena planned on using all of it.  You can see these aromatics above:  a medium sized onion, cut into half moons, a green pepper, sliced, and six garlic cloves, whole. Annalena did peel these.  She did not slice them, however, because she was looking for a sweeter flavor.  the more finely you chop garlic, the more of the strong, sulfuric flavor you will get.  Keep that in mind.

Now with these ingredients at hand, Annalena then slicked her soup pot with some of her Sicilian olive oil.  And for those who do not understand the expression  "slick the pot,":

Annalena is just covering her pot with the oil.  You then add the onions, first, with a little salt.  This helps to get the cooking going, as the salt breaks up the cells of the onion, and they then release their water.  Do not brown them, but when you begin to see a transluscense   (my my, she's jetlagged. Annalena had problems with that word), you add the peeled garlic, and the green pepper.  

While the aromatics are cooking, cut your squash into big chunks.  

You will see that Annalena has two different kinds of squash here, but they are all large.  The green and yellow one is called zephyr.  What variety you use is not really important, nor is the size of the cubes all that important.  These are filled with water, and your soup is going to happen very quickly. 

Add the squash to the pan, after you have sauteed things for about five minutes:

And now add just enough liquid to cover the stuff:

Can you see the levels?  Annalena used chicken stock for this, but you could use water.  If you do, PLEASE put in a rind from some parmesan to add flavor.  You will be glad you did (and this is a not too carefully guarded secret of Italian cooks: the rind of the cheese is a secret ingredient.

You need to sweat these veggies, so cover the pot, lower the heat, and go read a book or something for 20 minutes.  

When  you come back, your squash will be very, VERY soft.  And you will have a very hot pot of liquid.  

Can you see the slight change in viscosity, and maybe even see the veggies falling apart?   You can now wait until this is cooled to room temperature, and then put it in your blender to create a very smooth soup, but why  do that?  If you have a potato masher, or a large spoon, or anything that you can use to mash something, use that.  You get a soup just like the one atop this page, reproduced here:  

And this is pretty darn good eating.  Adjust the seasonings and, if you have a bunch of parsley (or, as it turns out, cilantro), chop it up roughly, and toss it into the pot, too.  

You'll get a very generous quart of soup out of this.  You may also augment it, as Nana used to, by adding left over pasta, or rice, or adding some toasted slices of bread.  You COULD add some protein to it, but in Annalena's view, this takes away from the subtle flavor, the gentle  "hug" the soup gives you.  Better some ditalini, or the leftover rice from risotto or some other meal, or even barley. Barley would be really good if the night promises to be very cold.  And you can cook it while the soup is making itself.  Just do NOT cook your starch directly in the pot with the soup, because it will drink up all the liquid.   

And there you have it, ragazzi. A gentle recipe, so as to make Annalena's return as gentle as possible.  

What will be up next?  Annalena has no way of knowing that, ragazzi. But she will return.  In the meantime, go make some soup.