Tag Archives: cream

Spicy Tuscan Soup

In the beautiful realm that is Tasty Kitchen (I know, it’s like I’m addicted) this recipe has gotten rave reviews time after time, and after staring at its mug on the internet for any number of months, I finally did my duty to mankind as well as to my own palate and made it.

And am I ever thankful that I did.

I figured if it was anything like Olive Garden’s Tuscan soup, it would be pretty dang good. Well, it surpassed even my loaded expectations.

Let me break it down to you real simple-like. In five words: Love, adoration, creaminess, love, creaminess.

Five adjectives? Spicy. Hearty. Satisfying. Flavorful. Delicious.

Five verbs? To eat. To sigh. To crave. To devour. To repeat.

After making it for the first time and failing to photograph it, I immediately made plans for making it again. So here is take 2, which I will hereby refer to as “Take Awesome.”

Ingredients

(Serves 4)

1 lb spicy breakfast sausage (I used Jimmy Dean’s hot sausage)

1 red onion

3 slices bacon

5 cloves garlic

3 medium sized red potatoes

1 quart chicken stock

3 c roughly chopped kale leaves

1/2 c heavy whipping cream

Salt and pepper, to taste (go heavy on the black pepper)

Good evening, ingredients! (It’s always important to say a kind ‘hello’ to the ingredients–it makes them ever so much more cooperative.)

Step one: grab that sausage.

Tear it into rustic chunks with your fingers. I tried to make them all about the size of a meatball.

Then lick your fingers.

Just kidding! Please don’t obey me blindly. Except when I tell you to send me things–like a sample of that batch of cookies you just made. In that case, don’t question me. Or else.

Toss the sausage into a hot Dutch oven, and cook it over medium high heat until cooked through (about 10 minutes).

You’ll have to give it the occasional stir to make sure the pieces get browned all over. Remove the sausage to a plate and set it aside. But don’t worry–we’ll meet again.

Chop the onion, mince the garlic, and dice the bacon. Aren’t red onions just beautiful?

Make sure when you snap the picture that the bacon is completely out of focus. Check.

Add the bacon to the Dutch oven, and cook over medium-high for 5 minutes.

Soon it will start browning and your salivary glands will be activated.

Just direct your streams of drool away from the pot. Add the onion and garlic and cook for another 5 minutes.

Wash the potatoes, cut them in half lengthwise, and then slice them into half-moons (1/4” slices).

Now let’s return to the Dutch oven, and pour in that chicken stock.

Toss in the potatoes too, while you’re at it.

Simmer uncovered for about 15 minutes, and test the potatoes for doneness. You want them to be almost done–but not quite.

In the meantime, wash and roughly chop the kale. My grocery store was out of their supply of kale–with the exception of these prewashed, prechopped bags. My hand was forced! In Take 1, I dealt with kale in its natural state. But in Take Awesome, the work was all done for me. I have mixed feelings about that.

So back to business: once the potatoes are almost-done-but-not-quite, add the heavy cream . . .

. . . the reserved sausage . . .

. . . and the kale.

I like lotsa lotsa kale. Plus, it wilts down just like spinach. So what looks like ‘lotsa lotsa’ will actually become a healthy, moderate amount.

It’s also the right time to add copious amounts of black pepper. Taste the soup and season it to your liking.

Simmer it for another 5 minutes, stirring to incorporate everything.

Grab a ladle, and let’s serve it up.

Some buttery chunks of garlic bread wouldn’t be amiss at all. No sirree.

I love how this soup is full of ‘stuff’–it means that each bite is a fun adventure in flavor and texture. Just look at what this spoonful turned up.

If I haven’t made myself clear, I highly, highly recommend this soup.

But the only thing that will fully convince you of the awesomeness and wonder of this soup is actually making it. So what are you waiting for? Grab your grocery list! Add the ingredients! Hop to it!

Thanks for letting me order you about–it may happen quite frequently on this blog. It helps give my bossy older sister tendencies a good airing.

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Chicken Artichoke Pasta Alfredo

This scrumptious recipe is woman-pleasin’ to the max. I attempted to make it man-pleasin’ as well by sprinkling some bacon on top. The results:

Me: So what do you think? Isn’t this awesome?

My man: Um, well, it’s alright.

Me: “Alright”?? “Alright“?? Are we eating the same dish? Did I not sprinkle enough bacon on? Seriously, you don’t love this?

My man: I mean, it’s okay. I like it fine.

Me: “Okay”??? “Fine”???? *spazzing out*

My man: Yeah, it’s fine. Not mind-blowing, but it’s good.

*at this point I’m passed out on the floor*

So I’m just going to skip the whole burning question that has my mind on fire: did God really create my taste buds so differently from my husband’s? Is it a woman/man thing? Or is he a freak of nature? Or wait, maybe I’m the freak of nature?

Anyway, ignore this whole little session and just remember the fact that I fully endorse the deliciousness of this dish.

Ingredients

(Serves 5)

3 TBS olive oil

4 cloves garlic, minced

1.25 lb boneless skinless chicken breasts (1 1/2 breasts)

salt and pepper, to taste

1 lb farfalle (bowtie) pasta

2 14 oz cans artichoke hearts, drained (rinse well if using marinated hearts)

1 stick unsalted butter

1 c heavy whipping cream

1 1/2 c freshly grated parmesan cheese

4 slices bacon, chopped and fried (optional garnish)

1 TBS minced thyme or rosemary leaves (optional garnish)

First, get the pasta water (salted) on the stove so that we can get that farfalle cooked!

I chose to prep my garnish first–don’t ask why that made any kind of sense. I’d fried up some bacon the night before, so I chopped it up nice and fine along with some rosemary.

Thyme is also delicious on this dish. I should note that if you choose to use raw herbs for the garnish (as opposed to cooking the rosemary with the bacon, for example, or adding it to the chicken as it’s frying), chop it up finely! A mouthful of herb can be a rather bitter experience. You want tiny pieces–they pack a whomp.

Now, chop the chicken into bite-sized cubes.

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high to high heat. When it’s hot, add the garlic and chicken.

Immediately sprinkle the chicken with salt and black pepper. Cook for about 5 minutes, until the chicken is starting to look less raw.

Open and drain those artichoke hearts–we don’t want any excess liquid going in.

Add the artichoke hearts, and cook for another 3 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Looking good.

Now you could chop up your artichoke hearts if you want, but I just broke them apart in the pan with my wooden stirring device:

I also used this opportunity to quickly grate the parmesan.

Add the butter to the artichokes and chicken . . .

Watch it melt with longing in your eyes.

Once it’s fully melted, add the cream . . .

. . . and parmesan.

Continue to cook for another few minutes until it’s turned into a lovely, thick sauce.

It looks a little pale, and that’s why the garnish is so important. It adds a beautiful pop to what could be a boring-looking dish.

When the pasta is done, pour it into the sauce and stir it around to combine.

Ew. That picture is disturbing, disgusting, and unappetizing. The drips of sauce look like . . . stalactites. Please pretend it never happened.

Let’s serve it up and top it off with some rosemary and bacon pieces.

Much prettier without those stalactites hanging ’round like they do.

You can also grate on a little more Parmesan if that does it for you.

I used one of my favorite Christmas gifts: a microplane zester.

Perfect!

Let’s take another bite.

Enjoy, ladies. And . . . men? If your taste buds are so inclined.

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