Tag Archives: main dish

Spicy Tomato Cashew Soup

Let’s put it this way: when I saw this post on Joanne’s blog, I knew I had to make the tomato soup she was talking about. I commented saying something like “looks delicious” and “can’t wait to make it”–but it was no mere blogger small talk. I actually couldn’t wait. I went to the grocery store that very day on my way home from work, picked up the ingredients I needed, walked in the door of my apartment, turned on the oven, and immediately started roasting those tomatoes.

I’ve never had such a fast recipe-to-table turnaround. I don’t know what about this soup (as opposed to all the other recipes I drool over on the internet) compelled me to make it so quickly, but guys–it’s truly amazing.

I’m thinking of writing “Call of the Tomato Soup”–kind of like “Call of the Wild” except . . . more different. With less stuff about wolves and more stuff about food.

This, my friends, is no traditional tomato soup. The Indian spices make it interesting and very flavorful, without detracting from its naturally comforting qualities. As long as you’re okay with a little spice (nothing unpleasant–just a delightful glow-in-your-mouth kind of level), I say make it! And fast. It’s a very low-effort meal with little hands-on time, and it’s also a great twist on what I’m sure for many of us was a childhood favorite.

Ingredients

(Serves 4)

1 ½ lb Roma tomatoes
2 tsp olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
½ large red onion
6 cloves garlic
2 tsp minced ginger
1 tsp garam masala
1 tsp ground coriander
1/4 tsp chipotle chili powder
1/3 cup salted cashews
1 TBS tomato paste
1 cinnamon stick (1’’ in length)
1 cardamom pod, bruised
4 cups water
1/3 cup Greek yogurt
Optional: extra cashews and cilantro, to garnish

Here are the ingredients.

Except that I was in a hurry to get this soup moving, and in my frenzy I confused it with another recipe I was planning on making, and a few interlopers snuck in.

I x-ed them out for you. No hot pepper. No shallots. Those belong in the Tarka Dhal recipe I shared recently–also Indian, hence my confusion. While I’m giving orders out, I might as well order you to make that too, because it’s fab. Just fab, girlfriend. (Sorry, just channeling a little Beth Moore there)

Preheat the oven to 300 F. Line a baking tray with aluminum foil. Halve the tomatoes lengthwise . . .

. . . toss them with 1 tsp olive oil, sprinkle them with salt and pepper . . .

and place them cut side up on the baking sheet.

Roast the tomatoes for at least 1 hour, but longer if you have time. Use this hour to head down to your local beach and do a quick photo shoot with a beautiful Pilates instructor/dancer named Amie.* When you come back, the tomatoes will be roasted and also cool enough to handle. Remove and discard the skins.

*If you don’t have a beautiful Pilates instructor/dancer named Amie available to photograph, I make no guarantees. None at all. The batch of soup will probably be ruined, destruction and gnashing of teeth will ensue, etc. etc. I apologize for any inconvenience.

Chop the red onion (roughly, since it’s all going to get pureed anyway), and heat the remaining teaspoon of oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. When hot, add the red onion. Cook for 6-7 minutes, stirring frequently, until golden-brown.

While it’s cooking, mince the garlic and ginger.

Measure out the garam masala, coriander, and chili powder, because the spices are about to go in.

Add the ginger, garlic, spices, cashews, and tomato paste to the red onion.

Cook for a couple minutes, stirring constantly (to avoid burning the spices), until very fragrant.

Add the water . . .

. . . as well as the cinnamon stick and cardamom pod . . .

. . . and those lovely roasted tomato halves.

Scrape the bottom of the pot to release the brown bits.

Bring the soup to a boil, then lower the heat to medium and simmer for 30 minutes. Once that half hour is up, remove the cinnamon stick and cardamom pod, and blend the soup using an immersion blender.

Temper the yoghurt with a little hot liquid from the soup . . .

. . . then stir it into the soup.

Things are looking and smelling unbelievably good.

Taste the soup and season to taste with salt and pepper. You can garnish with extra cashews or a bit of cilantro if you’d like. I served it with some freshly baked Parmesan tortilla wedges.

Next time I plan on serving it with grilled cheese–maybe amped up grilled cheese with some melty slabs of Pepper Jack inside.

Or I might just use a nice mild cheese to counteract the spice of the soup.

In any case, what a total comfort food.

Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did! Another awesome soup coming up next week.

Click here for printer-friendly version: Spicy Tomato Cashew Soup

Creamy Ham and Peas Pasta, a.k.a. "Picky Eater’s Pasta"

In Alaska, I was reminded that I love simple meals. Sometimes I forget this, and am moved to crimp individual packets of ravioli that end up in the trash (I know, I know–I need to get over that one). Sometimes I forget this, and make a complicated dish with lots of parts, running around the kitchen looking frantic, stressed, and crazed.

“Why do you do this to yourself, baby?” my husband asks, genuinely perplexed.

Why indeed, when a 5-minute toss-it-together breakfast sandwich sends my man into dinnertime bliss?

Why indeed.

So here’s a very simple little pasta dish that we tossed together on a Monday night.

It’s not going to be on the front of Bon Appétit magazine, but it’s effortless, pretty tasty, and it has kind of a ‘blank slate’ base to it that means you could easily add different veggies and meats to spice things up depending on your particular tastes, such as asparagus, shrimp, a diced fresh tomato, a splash of wine, that leftover chicken breast or some thinly sliced flank steak, flecks of fried red onion, or even a little lemon zest to take it to the next level. In fact, I’ve given it the alternate name of “Picky Eater’s Pasta.” The dish screams ‘safe,’ but it leaves room for you to add according to the palates present at your dinner table. I’ll let those of you with picky eaters in the house confirm its effectiveness at your leisure.

Ingredients

(Serves 4)

1 lb pasta (small or medium shells)
2 TBS butter
6 oz mascarpone
2 TBS milk
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan, divided
1 1/2 cups frozen peas
1 slice thick-cut deli ham (1 lb)
Salt and pepper
1 cup reserved pasta water, to taste
Optional: diced tomato, cooked chicken, leftover flank seak, asparagus, shrimp, onion, etc.

See how minimal the ingredient gathering is? Wow. I’m amazing myself. Is this my kitchen? Why are there less than a dozen ingredients gathered? Something doesn’t feel right, Mildred!

Let’s begin at the beginning. Salt some water . . .

. . . bring it to a boil, and cook that pasta! Cook it to a little under al dente, because it will finish cooking in the sauce. Reserve some pasta water before draining it (just dip it out with a measuring cup–and please don’t scald your fingers!), then set the pasta aside.

Cut the ham into matchstick-sized slices.

Melt the butter in the same pot the pasta was in:

If you want to add any alternate raw veggies or components (zucchini, onion, asparagus, shrimp, etc.) now is the time! Cook them in the butter until they’re to your satisfaction, seasoning with salt and pepper as they cook.

But I’m going basic here. So simply add the mascarpone, milk, ham, some salt and some pepper to the melted butter. Go generous with the pepper! It really brings the dish to life.

Cook over medium heat, stirring until the mascarpone is melted. Add 2 TBS of the fresh Parmesan. And even more black pepper, why not?

And who am I kidding . . . horrified, I discovered we were out of the good fresh Parmesan, and had to use canned stuff. Yup. But guess what–it was all fine in the end.

Add the pasta to the sauce, 3 more TBS of Parmesan, along with the frozen peas and any other cooked components you feel like tossing in . . .

. . . and cook over medium heat for about 5 minutes, stirring frequently, until the peas are heated through. If the sauce seems a little thick, add some of the reserved pasta water to taste, until it loosens up to your liking.

Ta daa!

Taste the pasta and re-season to your liking.

Like I said, my guess it that this is a veeeery safe dish to make for any picky eaters out there, small or large. It’s good, but doesn’t have a distinct punch of any kind. It’s just comforting, unpretentious, creamy pasta.

And I didn’t go crazy while making it, which my husband really appreciates.

Though apparently I took way too many pictures of it that all look kind of the same. Oh well, it’s a character flaw I’m still working on.

Serve, and finish off with generous amounts of the extra Parmesan.

Click here for printer-friendly version: Creamy Ham and Peas Pasta, a.k.a. “Picky Eater’s Pasta”