Soup exhaustion: mixing Venetian and Cantonese, in Vegetable Rice soup

Those readers who have been with Annalena in the past, know that Monday night , for about 7 months of the year, is soup night.  The Guyman has rehearsal, comes home late, and dinner needs to be light, filling and tasty.  So, it's soup.  Annalena, with her seasonal bent, tries to design the soups that way:  in September, there will be corn soup.  In November, butternut squash.  And she tries not to repeat herself.  

This all becomes challenging in February and March.  T.S  Eliot wrote "April is the cruelest month."  Clearly, he did not cook.

Confronted with a refrigerator full of root vegetables and winter greens this weekend, Annalena began to cast about for what to do.  Cooking soup with root vegetables is easy.  So is cooking one with winter greens.  But we'd had them already this season.  What to do that's new?

Years ago, Annalena learned how to make a Northern Italian soup called "polentina"  (Little polenta).  It's a corn meal based soup, where the amount of polenta is just enough to make it thick and smooth.  You then add vegetables. 

So, Annalena went to the cabinet to get the polenta.  And she saw an almost finished container of rice.  Hmmmmm.  For reasons that will always remain obscure (the workings of Annalena's mind have defied many).  She began to think of that Chinese classic, congee (or juk, depending on where you're from).  Essentially, it's overcooked rice, with leftovers.  Well, could Annalena combine the two? 

Yes, she could, and she did.  This is an original Annalena recipe and, for those who worry about this kind of thing, it's gluten free, vegan, and if you don't use the tofu, fat free.  What's not to like?

First,  you need some liquid.  You can use water, you can use packaged broth of any kind, but why not try your hand at making it?  Here's how Annalena made hers.  She took 2 large leeks, and chopped them roughly (you can use a big onion too), a couple of stalks of ugly celery, two big ugly carrots, a couple of turnips, and a potato.  All of these got chopped into  irregular pieces, and covered with 2.5 quarts of water.   Then she brought it to a boil, simmered for 20 minutes, and ... BROTH.  If you make yours, do get the veggies out as soon as possible, because the longer they stay, the "greener your broth will be.  That isn't necessarily a good thing.  

Once you have your stock/broth, you are really just about done.  The rest is easy.  Go into your fridge and pull out the veggies you have, that aren't enough for a meal, or that are beginning to look snarky.  Annalena found turnips, carrots,  spinach, and dandelion greens.  She took the carrots (two kinds), and turnips, and diced them into bite sized pieces and tossed them into the broth to simmer:

While this was happening, she cooked a pot of rice.  Now, ragazzi, this is important.  If you have cooked rice before, or read the instructions on thee side of a box of rice, you'll see that, for white rice, the "rule" is one part rice, for two parts water.  For this soup, you're going to change that to 1:5, or even 1:6.  What you are hoping to do, is to OVERCOOK the rice (you'll see this word in Italian sometimes, as stracotto.  It doesn't mean overcooked to the point something is inedible, it just means it's more cooked than normal).  You'll get rice like this: 

You're also going to have a LOT of stuff in that pot.  Annalena used one cup of rice, and she had enough "gruel" to feed her whole apartment.  

What you're now going to do, is spoon off 2-3 cups of this stuff, rice and water.  It will be hot, so work in small batches, and puree it in a blender.  As you puree it, pour it into your broth and veggies:

Then, take the remaining rice, and either drain it or don't, and combine it with the other ingredients.  Stir this all together, and make any necessary salt corrections you want.  NOW, if you have greens from that fridge dive, add them.  Spinach, chard, etc, will cook right there.  Dandelion greens will need a few minutes, kale and collards, a lot longer.   (Incidentally, you could push this more Venetian, by adding frozen peas instead of greens).  Your soup looks like this, and you have a lot of it:

If you've gone through this recipe, you have not seen any olive oil, any animal products, any dairy, etc.  So this soup is rather lean.  For lunch, Annalena took a pound of tofu and seared it hard.  The Guyman called the result  "beancurd croutons," which is not wrong.  

You should feel free to add what you want, if you in fact want to add anything.  If you leave it simple, you have a winter tonic, but you will be hungry later.

And as St. Julia once said  "that's all for today."  More is coming ragazzi ed amici.  Patienza.

Is it Sicilian? Is it Tuscan? Fish in tomato olive sauce

Ciao amici e ragazzi.  Do you remember Annalena?  If you felt that she abandoned you, she did.  She was tired.  And, honestly, some of those people out there never learned any manners.  Annalena would say "were born in a barn," but truth to be  told, having spent some time in barnyards, Annalena would choose the residents over some of the people who felt they had carte blanche to say whatever they wanted.  Annalena was accused of stealing recipes (she does:  but she always credits the source), of being an elitist (she is.  And sees nothing wrong with that), and of not writing the recipes "in contemporary style"  (also guilty.  ).  BUT... the machinations of a sort of wicked Canadian/Italian have gotten Annalena back.  She does issue an edict/warning:   THIS time around, she will make sure you are banned if you break protocol twice.  She will warn you once. You won't know it after that.  Trust her.

The title of our (newly) initial blog post, comes from discussions Annalena had when she learned how to make the sauce for this dish. She learned it from her little sister from a different  mother, a wonderful Sicilian woman who is a cooking teacher and runs her own school.  Should you go to Sicily, look her up.  The link is at the bottom of this entry.  And if  you happen to be in a city she visits during her annual trip to the United States, TAKE THE CLASS.  You will learn SO much.  Annalena is serious.  She has taken 3, and learns, at every single one.

When we made this sauce, in class,  Annalisa told us that  "you may think of sauce Livornese, and it IS very similar."  Annalena had heard of sauce Livornese, but she only had the faintest idea of how to make it.  When she looked it up, she learned that, like so many "classic" or "named" dishes, there were about a million variations.  All contained tomato, and all contained olives.  Beyond that....  And ragazzi ed amici, that's what cooking is about. Seriously, Annalena wants to stress:  there are very few "right" and "wrongs" about cooking.  There are opinions, just like with Broadway shows.  What Annalena likes, you may not.  What you like, Annalena may not.  So if you feel you've made a Livornese sauce and it needs "something," next time, add the something.  You may be right, you may be wrong, but you'll now have TWO sauces. And if you were wrong in your choices, at some point, you will have a third sauce. 

You will also hear, not without reason, that Italians are very protective of their cuisines.  For example, if you go to Rome, you will get the cooking of Lazio.  Amatriciana anyone?  And if you go to Venice, you will get the wonderful golden cookies called zaletti.   This is not to say you will not get these dishes elsewhere;  rather , with typical Italian ingenuity,  Italians will take a dish, claim it as their own, and rename it.  Then they can fight, internally, over who was there first, and who makes it right.

This sauce is a good example.  Annalena learned it from a Sicilian woman.  She cited to Livorno.  Now, if you look at a map of Italy, you will find Livorno on the coast of Tuscany:   WAY up north ,  far away from Sicily.  BUT... Livorno is a port.  Sailors went to sea (and if you want to eat well, ragazzi, marry a sailor), and we know Tuscans were in Sicily.  The dish, as we will see, does not rely on anything particularly regional to make.  In fact, Annalena thinks of it sort of as "piatto della dispensa" or a pantry dish:  when you see the ingredients, you will recognize immediately that every self respecting Italian cook, has these ingredients in his or her home.  So, ragazzi, let's get to work.

As promised, here are our ingredients:

What you see is a red onion, behind the capers, green olives, canned tomatoes, and a can of olive oil.  Salt and oregano are going in besides these, but those were Annalena's choices.  

Do you see why it's a dispensa/pantry sauce?  EVERY Italian has olives, capers, onions, and tomatoes around.  ALL THE TIME.  Need Annalena speak of olive oil?  How many kinds do you have?   So all you need to do on the way home, is get your fish (or maybe not:  we'll get to that below).

Now, to cook this dish, you first slice the onion in half moons  

Next , you have to reconcile yourself to one of the major distinctions between ITALIAN cuisine, and American Italian cuisine.  Italians do not measure.  Also - and this is a tough one, even for Annalena - Italians use much more olive oil than Americans do.  Indeed, when Annalena watches Annalisa cook, she sometimes watches the eyes of other students widen, as her sorellina pours the "Sicilian gold" into the pan.  So, ragazzi, no tablespoon measures here. Cover your pan, which is preferably non stick, with good olive oil, add the onions, and cook them at medium low.  You don't want them to brown, but you want them to soften:

If you compare the onions in the pan, to the ones on the cutting board, you shall see what  Annalena means.  

While the onions are cooking, prepare the olives.  Correctly, this dish requires those green olives with a pimiento in the middle. Annalena did not have those.  So she took green olives, smashed them, and pulled out the pits.  If you are using the pimientoed variety, cut them in thirds.  

How many?  Chissa'?  (who knows).  Do you like olives? Use a lot.  Not fond of them?  Don't use many.  You're going to combine these with drained capers:  don't use the ones preserved in salt here, ragazzi.  Sott'olio,  sott'aceto, sott'aqua (if you must), are fine.  How many?  Think about the olives .  Add these to the onions:

Technically both olives and capers have already been "cooked" because they are "cured."  So you won't need to spend too much time here.  Annalena suggests you just toss them into the onions and get them warm. 

Now, you add the tomato sauce.  Annalena was cooking for two:  she and the Guyman, so she only used one 16 ounce can.  All she had were pre-diced tomatoes, so she used them.  If you have whole tomatoes, they are better, and do a really Italian thing and crush them with your hands (Annalena has a wonderful photo of her friend Daphne playing in the sandbox of canned tomatoes.  If you want it, Annalena will ask if you can have it.  ).  

Now, stir this all together, lower your heat to really, really low, and let it sit for:  ok, now we're going to be Italian again, ragazzi.  The recipes Annalena has seen say 30 minutes.  What you're trying to do is drive most of the water off of the dish, and that may happen in 20 (as it did with Annalena), or 30.  You're looking for something like this: 

Now, let's presume you're a vegetarian.  If you are, you now have your sauce for pasta.  And since we haven't added cheese, this is also vegan.  If you don't like fish, but you like chicken, replace the fish Annalena talks about below with skinless chicken (skinless, because cooking raw chicken, with skin on it, in a liquid like this, will give you flabby, disgusting skin.  Maybe on your chicken too). 

BUT... if you are doing a Sicilian version, now you add your swordfish.  Let us say, however, that there was no swordfish at the market.  Or, there WAS swordfish but you refused to pay the ridiculous price they were asking.  Or, let's say that your Orthodoxy says swordfish is forbidden.  Then, think about the texture of swordfish, and pick something else.  Annalena had monkfish in the house, which is very firm, and very meaty, just like swordfish.  You could use cod (which Annalena has seen), if it's cut in a big thick piece.  You could use bass, but then you need to watch the cooking time. 

See what Annalena means about rules?  

Now, lay the fish into the sauce, raise the heat to medium, and don't cover the pan:

How long does it take?  Annalena cannot answer that question.  She cooked her fish like this for five minutes.  Then she turned the pieces over, for another five.  She probed one piece (which was for her cat) and found the fish not quite cooked, so she turned it again for two more minutes on each side.  So, at about 15 minutes, she had:

Speak truth, bambini:  does that not beg you to eat it?  Two pieces for each of Annalena and the Guyman, and one small one for Annalena's beloved cat Oliver.  (He got leftovers too). 

And there we are.  In the time it took Annalena to write this, you could have this on the table.  

So, ragazzi, get to work.  Call it Livornese, call it Siciliano.  Call it good.  Call  it dinner. 

Baci ed abracci a tutti. 

You can find Annalena's sorellina at:  https://www.go-sicily.it/