Post Thanksgiving Temple Days, and repurposing with a vegeance: beet, sauerkraut and cabbage soup

Yes, ragazzi, let us face it:  we are confronted with Thanksgiving leftovers, and guilt.  The leftovers will, eventually, find their way out of our lives, but guilt... well, a bad emotion, but one nonetheless.

Perhaps there are some of you wondering:  how do I use the leftovers in a healthy, non fattening way?  Well.... Annalena is sorry to be the one carrying the news:  if your mashed potatoes were made with butter and cream (as hers were), they cannot be made healthy and non fattening.  Indeed, it amazes Annalena sometimes, how people try to figure out how to make a high calorie ingredient a low calorie one:  it is not a matter of watering the vanilla (you remember the Mary Tyler Moore episode, don't you?).  So eliminate the guilt, own the situation, and either deal with the not so healthy leftovers, or share them (that is what Annalena is doing with her desserts), or... balance them with something less than obnoxious nutritionally.

Annalena read this recipe, in a column about a restaurant where they try to reuse everything: this extends to taking eggshells, and using them as molds for custards,  making carrot top green sauce, etc.  This soup was one that was based on - she kids you not - the juice from a jar of sauerkraut.

Now, this did not seem strange at all to Annalena, as she saves her pickle juice for making rye bread (and it's  GOOD ragazzi).  She and her gal pal Sue also use their potato water to bake bread (you will get higher loaves). So repurposing is good.  And the soup recipe had a lot of things in it that are good for you, filling, and not so costly.  So, ragazzi, let's try to make this.  Put a bowl of it next to your loaded turkey sandwich (or your shepherd's pie), and you may not be tempted to eat a second portion of either.

We begin with beets:  a pound and a half of them.  This is the time to use the beets that are as big as your head.  (Annalena recalls a story where her beloved trainer Emily ordered 3 pounds of beets on line and got one, large beet).  Annalena's were not that large, but two were more than sufficient. You put these in a non reactive pot, 1/3 covered with water, and seal this with foil.  Then bake it at 375 for "as long as it takes."  The bigger the beet, the longer.  It took 75 minutes for Annalena to get hers to the point where a knife pierced the beet to the center, easily.  These will be hot:  VERY hot.  Leave them alone, and then let them cool:

You can see the size of Annalena's beets, next to an avocado.  If you wait until they are cool, and run them under cold water, they will peel, easily.  You don't want the stems of the beets, so get rid of them and cube the critters:

Next, you will want some red cabbage sauerkraut.  Look for it.  It's available.  And it is becoming more common.  This is the type Annalena uses:

You want a cup and a half of that, or all of it, if you see fit.  There will be some juice left over. Save it for now.  

Finally, you will want savoy cabbage.  You can use a regular cabbage, but savoy is better, and it is sweeter.  Here's a savoy:

And you'll want to thinly slice about a  half pound of that.  If you start with the outside leaves, which you can do, you will use a lot more than  you think:

Now, dice up a big fennel bulb, and a large  yellow onion (although given the theme of this soup , you could use red too):

Finally, slice 9 garlic cloves.    

Let's go through those ingredients:  beets, cabbage, sauerkraut, fennel, onion, garlic.  Not an expensive one in the bunch, and certainly we're getting our share of fiber. 

We start by adding the onion and fennel to a   pot containing a film of olive oil, and cooking to translucence:

Now, you add the garlic, the cabbage, the beets.  Remember Annalena told you to keep the sauerkraut juice? Measure it.  You are going to want a cup and a half, and if you don't have it, (Annalena didn't), well, go drain some pickles. In a pinch, you can make vinegar water by adding a quarter cup of vinegar to a cup of regular water, but you SHOULD have some pickles in your house.    First, put a half cup of the sauerkraut water into the pot, and then add enough water to cover the vegetables.  Bring this to a simmer, and add the rest of your pickle juice/sauerkraut juice/vinegar water, and let the stuff cook, for about fifteen minutes:

Taste it.  You want a distinctly sour, tangy taste.  You also want a strong salt element.  Adjust as need be, with vinegar (cider vinegar is best here, not red wine vinegar), and then, serve it forth:

To Annalena, this soup cries out for rye or pumpernickel bread, preferably with good butter.  Be generous with the bread, stingy with the butter. Or, if you have boiled potatoes lying around, dice them up and add them to the soup and make it a meal.  It's vegan, it's sort of biodynamic, and it's GOOD.  Not so many calories, eh?    A way to clean out that pumpkin pie.  

Enjoy ragazzi. We want our plumbing clean before the Christmas cookie orgies begin

repurposing with a twist: Annalena makes Shepherd's Pie

Well, carini, Annalena hopes you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving.  You all ate too much, or most of you did, and now, what do you do?

In the days to come, Annalena will be advocaing what she refers to as "temple days" as we repent for what we've done, but for now, how about some Shephard's Pie?

Does that look good?  It is.  And you can make it SO easily if you have on hand some leftover vegetables from the feast (and you know you do), and some ground meat.  Being the traditionalist that Annalena is, she makes hers with ground lamb, but it will work with other  proteins.  You could probably make it with ground turkey, or with chunks of meat or turkey.  This is a dish designed to use up leftovers. Annalena is going to frame a canvas for you, and then suggest you color outside of the lines.  

Here's where we begin.  First, your leftovers.  Here are Annalena's;

What you can see in there are carrots (the new cliche':  rainbow carrots), which she had roasted very hot, with ginger, and some steamed string beans.  Originally, there were almonds in them, but someone ate them all (she thinks it was the Guyman, but he's not fessing up).  And of course, underneath, REAL mashed potatoes.   Annalena made them with cream and butter, so we are of course, out of the "temple day" mode immediately.  And that's ok.  

And since this is SHEPHERD's pie, and  Annalena did get all of her turkey out of the house, she went to what it is supposed to be:  lamb.  She had a pound of ground lamb, and a large onion.

And here's what you do.   You add some olive oil to a pan, and add the onions.  When they are translucent, you break up the lamb, and add it.  Make sure to put in some salt, and don't be afraid to add some seasonings. Decide how you like your lamb, and then go for it.    When the lamb loses most of its pinkness, add your veggies. Annalena cut up her carrots, and also pulled out her green beans, or as many as she could:

You are almost there.  Taste this and season it if you need to.  If you want to be a real stickler, when the pink is gone,  then drain this all to get rid of any lamb fat.  Annalena says:  why bother?   Put all of this into a glass baking dish (this is enough for an 8x8).  Then, put about 2 ounces of grated cheese over that, then the potatoes, and then some more cheese. Again, you can change these quantities.  Note that Annalena is NOT doing what a lot of these recipes call for, which is whipping up the potatoes again, with more liquid, making peaks, etc, etc.  Geez, Louise, it's LEFTOVERS.  

Annalena does not know how you feel, but that looks pretty good to her. And then, bake it at 400, for 30 minutes.  You may need more or less time.  Follow your nose.  You'll smell when it's done:

Now, if there is any higher form of praise:  Annalena was planning to make one of the  Guyman's favorite lunches: pasta with caponata, and some fish.  He wants this.  He won't admit it, but he wants it.  What can a woman say?

What she can say, ragazzi, is tomorrow, we do go the way of the temple, and learn how to make a very nourishing, very cleansing... beet and cabbage soup. 

Cooking as reminiscense , comfort, and so many things: ribollita

Today, ragazzi, a dish that you may have heard of:  ribollita.  Literally "reboiled," and ending with an "a" because we are reboiling soup,  and soup is feminine in Italian.  At first, Annalena thought that this was the dish du jour (or, more appropriately, dish del giorno) because, well, she wanted to make it, it's comfortable, the Guyman and she are on a soup adventure this week (tune in), and things like that. But as she made the dish and sat, thinking about things during a wonderful concert last night, she thought of how this dish conjures up some of the things you tend to forget, or not appreciate when they happen.  See, for many, MANY years, a chef named George (she won't give his full name and embarrass him: he wouldn't like that).  George sent out the ribollita - which was always on the cold weather menu as a freebie- anytime we were there.  It was as close to a HUG as we could get.  The restaurant was, and is very busy, and George was in charge. So, hope this satisfies you Mr K.

Ribollita is a Tuscan soup.  And those of you who know something about Tuscan cooking, will see it from some of the characterisics: it is LOADED with greens.  There are beans in it.  (HINT:  if you see beans and greens in a dish, think Tuscany).  It also uses water as a broth, not stock (another hint).  And it uses stale bread.  (Four for four.  Italian cooks are smiling).  When you see the ingredients , you will wonder; however, ragazzi, this dish exceeds what you expect from the parts of it.  HOW much it exceeds, depends on your care and attention.

Let's begin.  First,  let's show the ingredients:

If you are having trouble seeing and distinguishing, what we have are black kale (Tuscan kale, lascianto kale, dinosaur kale, it's all the same),  regular kale, swiss chard, plain cabbage, some white carrots, and in the back, onions and potatoes.  The quantities of these vegetables will vary, but you should have at least a good quantity of the Tuscan kale.    And let's not forget:

Three cups of these, or more.  Now, Annalena cooked these, and they are "cassoulet" beans.  Canellini are traditional, but use a small white bean. Whatever you have. AND COOK THEM YOURSELF IT IS NOT HARD.   You know how Annalena feels about canned beans. 

Get about 2/3 of those beans, cooked soft, and puree them in their cooking water:  whatever is left:

Let's now go back to our veggies.  Chop up the onions, and get them going in a few tablespoons of olive oil, in the BIGGEST soup pot you have (Annalena is NOT kidding about this):

While these are cooking, chop up the carrots real fine.  You can do this in the food processor, and also, peel and cut the potatoes.  Use something like yukon golds. You want about a pound.  Here's the part that Annalena likes the best:  you are going to mix all these vegetables together and put them in at the same time.  BUT FIRST: get a few tablespoons of good quality tomato paste, mix it up in some water to dissolve it, and stir it into the onions. Now add the bean puree  And after you've done that, just pile up the veggies. Oh, yeah, add a cup of celery too;

That looks pretty crowded doesn't it? Well, we're going to be adding more stuff.  Get 8 cups of water, and SLOWLY add it at the side.  It will go in, just be patient.  Finally, it's time to add a cook's trick:

This little secret ingredien is the rind of parmesan cheese. Save your cheese rinds if you can't get them elsewhere, and if you happen to see them, buy them.  They will add flavor everywhere you add them.  You should generally look for a BIG piece so you can pull it out, but Annalena likes to eat the small ones, so she doesn't care.  You put all of this on top of the greens, cover the pot, and let it cook.  It WILL cook down. Here's how it looks after fifteen minutes:

See what Annalena means?  And then, at the end of 45 minutes:

Looking good. We could eat this, but then, it wouldn't be ribollita.  No, sir.  So, what you do now is you let the soup sit to cool down.  You always make ribollita in the cold weather, so don't worry about how you're going to move this to your fridge, just let it cool at room temperature.  

Next day, get some stale country style bread. Annalena had a loaf of sourdough, as she usually does.  Use the soft white part, and put it right on top of the soup:

Stir it in, bring the thing back to a simmer, cover the pot, and let it cook for thirty minutes. The bread will dissolve some, but not completely:

Don't you think it looks good?  It looks BETTER in your bowl, with lots of grated parmesan (this is Tuscany, so we use parmesan), a drop or two of good olive oil, and some black pepper.  There are variations on this using way more tomato than this one, and sometimes, you're told to put it under the broiler to get a crunch topping. all well and good.   This version is fine to Annalena.  

And you've got TONS of soup here ragazzi, maybe four quarts. Well, guess what?  It's time to share. And sharing is what we need right now.  Share it with EVERYONE .  Give someone a bowl of hot soup today.  Annalena guarantees you, you'll love it.  So will they

Stretching the boundaries of chickpeas: panelle

Well, ragazzi, perhaps we should say  something about the horrific situation in France.   Annalena will say, she feels horrible about it.  She feels horrible about the fighting on line about it:  it seems that everyone wants to claim the right to hurt the most.  Is it worth it?  People are making fun of each other's grief.   For heaven's sake  LEAVE EACH OTHER ALONE IF YOU CAN'T CRY AND LAUGH TOGETHER.  HUG EACH OTHER.   As Melanie wrote and sang "bleed inside each other's wounds" but KNOCK IT OFF" as Annalena's grandmother would say.


It will shock no one who knows her, that Annalena has retreated to the kitchen today.  She's ovewhelmed.  In the kitchen, she can lose herself.  And so she is.  She's making soup.  Lots and lots of soup.  and you'll see the recipes.  But for today, we will be revisiting Sicily with something Annalena always wanted to make:  panelle.  And she has. And she will make them again. And she hopes you will too.

Ultimately, panelle are a representation of a cultural "trope" from the Mediterranean:  chickpea flour and water, combined, and cooked.  You will see this in France, in panisse (which are fried, like panelle),  socca, (which are crepes), and in Liguria, in farinata (which is baked, like a chickpea focaccia).

Chickpeas have served a VERY important part in world nutrition, ragazzi.  Unlike Annalena, they are low maintenance. And they give back to the soil.  The yield is high.  They dry well.  (Annalena is not a fan of fresh chickpeas). Like all legumes,  they are loaded with protein.  In fact, if you eat 1/10 of the recipe which follows, you will have the protein of a large egg.  Since you WILL eat more,   you'll be getting some high quality, low cost protein. And even though we will be frying, you will NOT be getting too much oil in you. Annalena promises.


Panelle are street food, but they've been co-opted to restaurants all over Italy and New York.  Annalena has eaten them everywhere, and likes the ones closes to street food.  Uneven pieces, uneven thickness, but OH, so GOOD.    Oh, why are we waiting? Let's get started.

First, while your base ingredients are minimal:  chickpea flour, water, oil, you have to make sure you get the right chickpea flour

Other cuisines use chickpea flour and if you compare them, they are not the same.  DO NOT get the Indian chickpea flour called "besam."  This is good stuff:  for Indian cooking.  Get an Italian brand. This is an Italian recipe, and you can find this stuff easily.  It's called "farina di ceci" which is a literal translation of chickpea flour.

When Annalena was getting ready to make these, she researched ratios, and found that, while everyone uses, essentially chickpea flour and water (there are additives to some which we will not discuss here, except for the traditional parsley), it is difficult to get a handle on the ratios.  And thus, you have to be ready to be flexible with your water.  Annalena started with 2 cups of flour, and three cups of cold water.  She eventually added a fourth cup. 

So, first, get a surface ready, or a container, and make sure it is OILED WELL.  Use olive oil.  Annalena had a baking sheet with parchment.  Her galpal Annalisa uses a bread pan.  Others use an 8x8 glass pan, so that they can make "chick pea french fries." It matters not, just as long as you have a place to put it.  IF  you use a flat surface, however, have a heat proof spatula ready, and oil it too. 

Now, let's cook. Put three cups of water and the two cups of chickpea flour in a pot, and stir it, without heat, until there are no lumps:

Almost looks like light cream, yes?  Now, put mid heat on the thing:

and whisk, whisk, whisk.  You'll begin to notice a thickening almost immediately, like porridge:

And it will get thicker and thicker.  It may even test your strength:

It will certainly test  your patience.  But that stuff above, although thick, is NOT ready. If you are getting serious resistance, but no pull away (as Annalena did), then add more water.  That did the trick for her, and her ratio was 2 cups flour to 4 cups water.   When is it ready?  It's ready, when the mass definitively moves away from the side of  the pan when you're whisking.  How long that takes, will vary.  Annalena saw times ranging from 20 minutes to an hour.  It took her 25 minutes or so:

It's hard to show this in a photo, but you'll know.  If you've made cream puff dough, it's the same principle:  things begin gathering around your whisk when you stir, rather than falling back to the pot perimeter.    

IF  you are inclined, at this point, AFTER the stuff has coalesced around your whisk, you can stir in as much finely chopped parsley as you like.  You SHOULD add it; however, Annalena didn't because... she had just used up all her parsley on something else.  

If you are using the bread pan, to make thick slices, pour the stuff into that.  If you are using a flat surface, pour it out and spread it:  FAST.

This is NOT the time when you go to answer the phone, or the bathroom.  No.  DO. IT. NOW.  It won't be even all around, and that's ok.  Just spread it out, as best you can. 

Now, you need patience.  This stuff has to firm up.  It has to firm up for at least half a day.  Let it sit at room temperature until it cools down, and then, if you have the space, you can store it as one piece, but you can also cut it and stack it:

See how Annalena made different sized pieces?  Part of that was accidental, part was by design.  She wanted to use these guys in different ways.  If you are using the bread pan, you will unmold the loaf of cooked flour, and then slice with a nice sharp knife (or better, dental floss), to make thin slices.  The more creative of you will see the potential for stars, circles, etc.  Annalena does not need to put rouge on this. 

When you're ready to fry, fill the pan with about half an inch of oil (Annalena used vegetable oil),  and get it nice and hot.  You can tell if it's hot enough, by putting the end of a wooden spoon in the oil, and seeing if it bubbles hard.  Or, you can test with an errant small piece of your paste.  In any event, don't overcrowd the pan:

Fry for about two minutes on each side.  You can lift them up to check the color.  You want a nice, golden brown one.  It may take longer to fry the first side, than the second. But when you're done:

If you didn't put parsley in these at the start,  you can now shower them with parsley.  And lemon juice, as Allison suggested to Annalena (she's right).  Don't forget salt. 

If, as Annalena, you will eat all of them, once you make them, make them in smaller quantities.  The unfried, cut slices keep for a while in the fridge. Annalena made her paste on Monday, cooked a batch on Tuesday, and cooked another batch on Thursday.  And wished she had made more.  

One other thing, ragazzi: if you taste these, before you fry them, you will wonder why you're doing this.  They will taste bitter, even nasty.  Trust Annalena:  the frying fixes everything. 

And also, for those of you who wonder about the fat, there was a commercial years ago, discussing the "wessonality" of the aforementioned oil.  One would cook fried chicken in the oil, measure the oil at the end, and "it all comes back except one tablespoon."  Well, yes, because the chicken gives up its own fat, numbskull; however, with this one, you really won't be using that much fat.  It DOES pretty much all come back. 

Admit it:  you like fried food.  You LOVE fried food.  And the fact that the dish has no cholesterol, has lots of protein, and is not expensive, are all factors in its favor.  So, what are you waiting for, an invitation?  Make em NOW. And let Annalena know what you think of them.

Tomorrow, an invitation to soup, as we make the wonderful Tuscan ribollita. 

Off beat: Peanut butter soup

Happy end of Daylight Savings Time, and happy All Saints Day, ragazzi!  Annalena, being more of a fan of darkness than light, prefers this time of year. She also prefers this holiday to Halloween.  Last night, all she could do was hope to  get HOMMMMME as Carol Burnett once put it.

At this time of year, thoughts turn to things like soup.  And as  Annalena constantly needs stimulation (careful, ragazzi, let's keep this g rated), she looks to unusual recipes.  This one certainly seemed unusual to her.  She found it in the Penzey's spice catalogue, and had to try it.

Before she continues, she will add - and let you do what you will with it - this is a recipe from a lesbian couple from the midwest who have been together for a LONG time, and who are nurses.
Annalena does not editorialize here, other than to say Penzey's had embraced the same sex movement way more thoroughly than just about any company, and she could not be more pleased.

Now, to the soup:

It is hard to tell, in fact probably impossible to tell, from that picture, that this is a peanut butter soup.  Had Annalena followed up with the garnish of toasted peanuts they suggest, it may have been easier.  But this is what there is.  It is a blissfully easy thing to do.  Do keep  the ingredients of this soup in mind , ragazzi:  it has all of the benefits, and all of the drawbacks, of peanut butter:  you will get low cost protein (a cup of the soup provides 12 grams of protein), but you will also be getting substantial calories (300 to a cup, of which 210 come from fat:  mostly UNsaturated fat, but fat nonetheless).  Proceed accordingly. 

We start with our basic soup vegetable trilogy:  who remembers those?  GOOD!  Carrots, celery and onion. Annalena used two big carrots, two stalks of celery, and an onion.  In a soup like this, you want small vegetables, so out came the food processor and the pulser: 

After this, out comes the BIG soup pot, because this recipe is going to make a lot of soup:  three quarts.  You melt two tablespoons of butter in that pan, and add the vegetables.  Now, we "sweat" them with a little bit of salt.  Your goal is to get the carrots soft.   You may be tempted to use oil instead, to get rid of cholesterol. Don't.  It's not that much butter, and this is going to have more dairy in it.  Butter, in Annalena's opinion, is the right fat when there's dairy involved.

See the cooking process here?  You'll see, through the smoke, some loss of color in the carrots and the celery, and a translucence of the onions.  It will take 5-7 minutes, and medium low heat.  

Next, you need two quarts of liquid.  Annalena suggests chicken stock and water, in 50/50 proportion. Too much chicken stock makes this "chicken soup with peanuts," and water is not sufficient to carry the "backbone" of the soup, which is the job of the stock. So do that, or if you are lucky enough to have a good vegetable stock, use that.    Add the stock, bring this to a simmer, and let it sit for ten minutes.  What you are doing is adding the flavor of the veggies, and the butter, to the stock. 

After you've let this cook for the ten minutes, add a cup and a half of milk.  Annalena will only cook with whole milk, or 2%.  She finds the others do not work right in her cooking. 

The whisk is there, so that the veggie bits mix well with the soup.  At this point, ragazzi, you actually have an old colonial soup called - milk soup.  It was served to the ill who needed easily digestible protein. Sometimes it was poured over buttered toast, and to be honest, that sounds downright like a recipe that needs revival. 

So, okay, you've stirred in the milk.  Now, get a jar of extra crunch peanut butter.  Annalena has a weakness for JIF, and that's what she used.  If you are a skippy kinda cook, go for it, and if you happen to be someone who goes out to the market and gets her peanut butter fresh ground from someone in a flannel shirt and a beard , well, do not let Annalena get in your way.  (You COULD tie this in to the recipe source, but we won't do that, will we?).  

Peanut butter is very stiff, so add this in globs, combining it gently, at a very low heat.  Boiling soups with milk in them will spoil their flavor.

It's a bit like looking through San Francisco's fog, but Annalena thinks you can see the peanut butter on her spatula, dissolving into the hot milk.  

Use your whisk to feel around to make sure there aren't major lumps of peanut butter, before you add the next batch.  And so on, until you've added two cups of peanut butter - a one pound jar. 

If you jump up to the earlier picture, after we added the milk, you'll see the color and texture difference. 

This soup tastes better after sitting, so don't serve it immediately.  Also, know that, because we do not have a binder like flour in the soup, the solids will settle out, so you'll have to stir things when you get it back into a pot. 

A cheddar cheese biscuit, perhaps with some ham,  a little salad, and a nice meal.  You may even get your kids to ask for seconds.  Especially if you put some peanuts at the top.   

It was easy, wasn't it?  And a bowl of soup is sometimes just the thing.  You can figure out what kind of sandwich to make with it if you are so inclined. 

Make some soup today ragazzi, and remember, like we always say:  SHARE.  Three quarts is plenty.  Give some to someone who's not as ambitious as you are.