It seems like another lifetime now, but the year after my starter marriage ended, I lived in a townhouse with my dear friend Gemini I. Shortly after the furniture was placed and the boxes unpacked, we began to negotiate the rules of housework, grocery shopping, and TV usage when we got to chatting about food. I remember asking, “Do you like cous cous?” (In those days, I ate it all the time, though it’s pretty much verboten now since I don’t eat wheat). I was taken aback by her answer, which, at the time, I found a little odd.
“Well, I suppose I do,” she responded. “There are times when I’ll cook it every day for two weeks, but then I might not touch it or even think of it for 8 or 9 months.” I couldn’t imagine ignoring a food I actually enjoyed for that long (and chocolate? Well, that one would be calculated in hours–nay, minutes–rather than days or weeks).
These days, though, I understand exactly what she meant. When one maintains a food blog, the quest for the novel and atypical dish never ends. This pursuit sometimes leaves old favorites languishing in the dust–or at the back of the cupboard (or both, in the case of our cupboard). On the other hand, I might whip up something new from a recipe I found on another blog, and enjoy it so much that the HH and I will feast on said dish several times during the next week. And the following week. In fact, we might just consume that comestible every second or third day for two to three weeks (which does provide several useful photo-ops, after all)–and then dump it unceremoniously, just as Chaser dumps her squeaky ball (ad nauseum, I might add) at my feet. Once I’ve gotten my fill, I move on, seeking the next culinary encounter.
Well, I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that I often find myself with a surplus of overripe pears in the house, as I did a couple of evenings ago. Since the HH refuses to share in the burden of eating fruit (hey! That could be the title of Michael Pollan’s next tome: The Burden of Eating Fruit: An Exposition on Overripe Organic Produce), I’m always on the lookout for tasty recipes with pears, before they become too soft and squishy, too oozy, too yellow-flecked-with-brown. Our freezer is already bursting with chopped, frozen pears, so I needed to cook up these babies–and fast.
It was then I remembered an erstwhile favorite, one that we consumed for a spell and then promptly forgot. It’s from one of my favorite cookbooks, Green by Flip Shelton. From what I understand, Shelton is kind of like an Aussie Rachael Ray, and isn’t taken very seriously as a chef (what’s that bogan doing cooking biscuits on the barbie? What a dag! Well, she’s still ace to me. G’day!). The recipe sounds like an incongruous combination of ingredients (though not as incongruous as radishes, olives and grapefruit), mixing pear and parsnip with sautéed leeks, but the final result is incredibly tasty. Fragrant, slightly sweet from the pears and slightly peppery from the parsnip, with a velvety smooth, light texture. Yum-O!
And since this soup features both fruit and, well, soup, I’m submitting it to this months’ No Croutons Required, a monthly event hosted alternately by Holler (this month) and Lisa, which asks us to cook up either a salad or soup with fruit as a main ingredient.
Oh, and before I sign off, I really must thank all of you for being so understanding and so polite. I mean, it’s painfully evident that I was a total bust at the ACD this time round (okay, maybe not a TOTAL bust–I did last almost 2 weeks). And yet you’ve all had the diplomacy and tact not to mention it! For that, I am grateful.
And while I’ve decided this may not have been the best time to embark on an even more restrictive diet (school starting up, cold weather coming, cookbook calling), I do still try to eat foods that would fit within the parameters of the diet as often as possible, perhaps minus one or two ingredients. Well, turns out this fantastic soup could easily qualify as an anti-candida meal, even without trying (if you’re following the version that permits non-tropical fruits, that is). It’s also a very simple, very nourishing concoction that offers fabulous fiber from the pears, a hit of extra calcium from the parsnips and a satisfying early autumn tummy-warming. You may even decide to make it again and again–at least, for a couple of weeks or so.
Pear and Parsnip Soup
from Flip Shelton’s Green
It may not be entirely photogenic, but this easy, quick recipe produces a satisfying soup. The combination of slightly sweet, slightly peppery, and slightly creamy works beautifully here.
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) olive oil
2 large pears, peeled and chopped
2 large parsnips, peeled and chopped
1 leek, chopped (white and light green parts only)
2 pints (1 liter) vegetable stock [I've even used the powder in a pinch]
sea salt and crushed black pepper, to taste
Warm the oil over low heat in a heavy-based saucepan. Sweat the pears, parsnips, and leek, stirring often, for about 15 minutes, or until they start to soften. (Basically, you want them soft but not brown). I covered the pot to help speed this process.
Add the stock and bring to the boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes, until the ingredients are soft.
Remove from the heat and allow to cool slightly before blending with an immersion blender; or pour into a regular blender in batches and purée. Season to taste with salt and pepper, and serve hot. The recipe says this serves two, but I’ve found it’s more like 4 servings. May be frozen.