My Tomato Soup

In the best of all possible worlds, I would stroll/waltz/sashay out to my garden, pluck a dozen luscious, slightly over-ripe plum tomatoes from my thriving vines (growing in certified organic compost, etc.), throw them together with twelve other home grown/locally sourced, heirloom herbs and vegetables to make zuppa.

Though I occasionally entertain the possibility, I don’t live in best of all possible worlds, and canned tomatoes are a workhorse in my kitchen. This recipe is quite simple, easily a basis for any number of great soups.

Finely dice a small white onion; you want about a cup of root. Put a scant tablespoon or so of oil—olive oil is fine, of course, but that puts a stamp on your variants—in a 2-quart pan, add the onion, and cook on a low heat until the onions are soft and translucent.

This, children, is called “sweating,” and you do not want the vegetable to brown much, if at all. To this, add two cups of good, flavorful chicken broth, and a good Italian herb blend. Increase heat and let simmer for about fifteen minutes or so. Add 6 ounces of tomato paste and a 14-ounce can of diced/chopped tomatoes. Stew 30 minutes or so before serving.

French Market Bean Soup

Somewhere among the cuneiform tablets found scattered around Ur are bound to be recipes for bean soup, likely even soups using many types of dried beans.

This particular recipe is far more recent—it’s only been around about as long as I have, which dates it to around the time Sputnik was launched—and its connection to the French Market in New Orleans is speculative at best. Having said that, it’s a rich, hearty soup, good hot or cold.

No small degree of this recipe’s appeal is that you can easily make custom combinations of dried beans and parcel them out as gifts. A typical commercial mix contains calls for equal parts navy beans, pinto beans, split green and yellow peas, black-eyed peas, lentils, both baby and large limas, black beans, red beans, Great Northerns, soybeans, and barley pearls, but you can use whatever combination you like in a somewhat similar measure and call it whatever you like.

My buddy Dan Vimes sends me a mix he calls Pelahatchie Peas Pot every year on the anniversary of Nixon’s resignation. Dan puts his bean blend in Kevlar packets. You can put yours in whichever moves your zen, just be sure to throw in a bouquet garni with each package.

You’ll also want to include a good recipe:

Place in a heavy pot a pound of beans and seasoning with 2 quarts water, a ham joint/hock or smoked turkey neck/tail, a cup each chopped onion and celery, and a couple of cayenne pods. Bring to a boil and simmer until beans are soft, adding water if needed. At this point, you can remove meat from bone, chop and throw it back in the pot back to the pot. Sure, it’s a pain to do, but it’s a nice touch, it really is.

Now is when you add canned tomatoes, either small dice or crushed, with a judicious amount of juice. Throw in two very finely minced toes of garlic, and simmer to melding, about another hour. Thicken or thin to your liking, salt and pepper to taste.