Lentil Soup: Leftovers and the Home Economy

Lentil and split pea soups are quick soups to make. Usually, left over ham enters into the recipe. This creates a problem by raising the question of how much soup can be made form the leftovers. Its solution is key to soup making and to bringing asound home economy to the kitchen.

This recipe begins with one 1 ½ pound smoked shoulder butt, a small and delicious ham. These are a perfect size for a ham diner for any where from two to six table guests. At my table it’s usually just my wife Rita and I. Under these circumstances my small ham will yield a bounty of leftovers.

Leftovers are highly underrated. They have an image problem. So let me here take moment to become their PR guy. Leftovers are not the less than prime remains of something, which in the case of food is something returned to the refrigerator. Once there it is slowly, and over the course of days, pushed to the back of the shelve and forgotten. By the time it is rediscovered it is no longer less than prime, it is putrid.

But that is not the intrinsic nature of the leftover. That putrid result is the work of a careless cook who does not honor the home economy. My delicious smoked butt was not the makings of simply a ham super. It was the starting point for three unique meals: a ham super for two; a ham, broccoli and cheese braid for four; and finally a pot of lentil soup for six. Over the course of a week it was the backbone for complete meals for twelve, and delicious meals at that, each costing a little more than a dollar.

Now back to the original troubling question, how much soup from the chunk of ham. In this case that chunk was ½ pound.

Three quarts I thought, or a pint for each hungry table guest, six servings. We start with three quarts of water. Some of that will be absorbed the lintels. Some of that will evaporate. When all is said and done we will wind up with about three quarts of soup. This is plenty to serve six hungry guys when served with bread and beer. Beer wonderfully complements this salty, earthy soup.

For the vegetables, one large onion, four good sized carrots and two nice slices of rutabaga I thought. This seemed like a nice serving of mixed vegetables for six. In late fall the rutabaga is in prime season. It is sweet, spicy and highly underrated vegetable that adds so much to the mix. I recommend rutabaga be included in all mixed vegetable soups.

For the lentils, I thought a cup and half would do.

Season the soup to taste with about 1/4 teaspoon of allspice, 1/4 teaspoon of ground cloves, 1 heaping teaspoon of minced garlic and 1 large table spoon of ham stock base.

The soup turned out beautifully, tasty and a feast for the eyes as well. It took a little more than an hour to make.  

A Chicken, A Red Rudge and A Pair of Shoes

The chicken, the red Rudge and a pair of shoes has been a hard row to hoe. There has not been a post on this blog for awhile because these are thoughts on the economy of scale and are not fully worked out.  Wendell Berry has struggled with the same problems throughout his most of his essays. I am, we are, joining good company.

I think, the proper economy of scale is broken or not even considered.

So here’s what about the chicken—ninety percent of the poultry and poultry food products sold in the US come from about 50 very large corporations. The chicken is no longer the product of a farm. It is an industrial product. The same thing is true of most of our pork, much of our beef and is rapidly advancing upon our dairy products.

The regulatory term for industrial livestock production, including chickens, is CAFO—confined animal feeding operation. CAFOs are regulated under waste water discharge permits conforming to US Environmental Protection Agency regulations. They are regulated by the US Food and Drug Administration. It’s an economy that hinges on agricultural subsidies from the US Department of Agriculture.  This is the industrial economy, not the family farm or ranch.

The transition of the agrarian economy to an industrial economy over the past sixty years is the fruit of well intentioned policies the insure food surpluses and low consumer costs through agricultural subsidies. These are policies that have run amuck, ruined the economy of the “family” farm and led to slow decline of rural small towns and rural communities across the US. See CAFOs Uncovered - The Untold Costs of Confined Animal Feeding Operations - Poultry Articles from The Poultry Site . We have unintentionally waged war on our agrarian economy.

The trouble with chickens is a problem of economic scale. Chickens are not suited to be a product of the industrial economy. They are more suited to be produced though the agrarian economy. The farm raised, free range bird is about as different from “factory” hen as chickens are from wild pheasant. The free range bird can be roasted, stewed and finally find its way to the stock pot for soup. And at each and every step it’s delicious. It needs no fancy “tarting up” for flavor.  Instead we settle for a cheap, tasteless protein, industrial bred and fed from a once noble bird.

The successive economic transformations of the 20^th century have left our heads spinning. Collectively we are dizzyingly confused over appropriate scales of economy. We are thrust in a hodgepodge stew of industrial, post-industrial, global economics where the economy of household and community are lost.

In an agrarian society the economy was defined by largely economically independent households in the context of local community. Wealth or well being was determined through an equation involving the fertility of the soil, individual labor and community.  That calculus has been lost. It is the calculus that must be relearned.

Before I move on to the economy of a red Rudge, let me close out on the economy of a chicken. Pound for pound a locally raised free range chicken costs about twice as much as factory produced hen. Still the free range bird is most often the better buy. First, when the factory birds are parted out and turned into chicken products, they cost about as much at the cash register as a farm raised bird. Second, the farm raised bird has so much more flavor that a smaller serving is wonderfully satisfying. The bird is not one, but the makings for two or three meals. Now on to the Rudge.

The red Rudge is the bicycle I bought when I was about 14. I rode it a lot until I got my drivers license. I rode it a lot in college. I rode it a lot in my late twenties through my thirties bicycling with my kids and for exercise. It was stolen twice and recovered twice. It spent another 15 years hanging in my garage, rusting and worn out.

Two years ago I found that I needed a bike again. I had a hip replaced and needed reconditioning. Bicycling is pleasant exercise. I went shopping for a new bike. Discount big box stores had them for $100 give or take. These were junk—ride for a year bikes until something breaks. Big box sporting goods stores had decent bikes for around $400 give or take--bikes that would do and in my price range. My local bike shop had the sort of bike I wanted. It was somewhat too pricey, about $900, but really cool.

It was a relatively light weight commuting bike built for comfort. It had upright handlebars, a comfy seat and a sweet shifting internal multispeed hub. It was what I wound up with but at half the price. It was a rebuild of the forty-year-old bike hanging in my garage. It was a bicycle produced by an economy of proper scale.

My old bike, at its time, was a very good one. It was a ten-speed manufactured in the early 1960s with a hand built thin walled, lugged, steal frame. I asked Ed, my local bike shop owner, if it made sense to rebuild my old ten-speed into an urban commuter. Absolutely he said. He put Nick, a college aged young man, in charge of the project.

My old red Rudge was reborn with upright bars, a classy and comfortable leather saddle, new rims and rubber, new chain and bearings and a slick 8-speed internal hub. Here is a sensible example of the proper economies of scale. It wedded my household economy, the stuff at hand, with economy of my local bicycle shop. The $400 give or take that I could afford on a bike (mostly give in this case, but in that range) were dollars spent in my community and largely remained in my community.

There are two other things to note here. Young people and part time retirees work at my local bike shop. They enjoy their work. Ed, the shop owner, collects used children’s bikes, rebuilds them and donates them to be distributed by area boy’s and girl’s clubs. You have jobs that fit and a contribution to the community.

And finally to the shoes. My shoes are made 15 miles from where I live. They are very good ones—Allen Edmonds. I buy the factory seconds, discontinued styles and salesmen samples at deeply discounted prices. Still they are pricey, about two or three times what I would pay for a pair of shoes at a big box store--$80 to $160. Retail they go from $150 on up. What you get is a confortable well made shoe that actually fits. These are shoes that last a long time—easily good for three or four rebuilds. With rebuilds they last eight or ten years or until you tire of them.

These are shoes born from an agrarian economy in a shoe factory in Belgium Wisconsin. Once, Milwaukee tanneries turned out the finest leather in the world. Tanning has largely moved overseas. Leather crafting has moved with it. The result is lousy shoes. Belgium, Wisconsin, is a place of farms, mixing dairy and vegetables. Its local industry was the shoe factory, a cannery, and a foundry. The Belgium economy was a local mix of family farm and industry blended together. The foundry is gone. The shoe factory has moved ten miles south and is owned by a group of out-of-state investors. The canning plant remains.

All of these things: the locally raised chicken; the locally rebuilt bicycle; and the locally made pair of shoes, are from my local economy. It is all the product of household economy in the context of community. It’s not disembodied, not globalized. It’s our true economy and one in need of nurturing: the bonds of soil; of family and household; and of community.

Rough thoughts I know and too long for a blog. The soup is next but this train of thought will continue.

Wendell Berry: An Introduction

I’ve added a new “gadget.” It will list farmers and agricultural producers who are working to restore the proper scale to our agricultural economy. The economic scale of things will be my next serious post. It’s on chickens, a pair of shoes and the red Rudge. To set the table, so to speak, consider this from Wendell Berry’s essay “Six Agricultural Fallacies.”

“1. That agriculture may be understood and dealt with as an industry.

This assumption is false, first of all, because agriculture deals with living things and biological processes, whereas the materials of industry are not alive and the processes are mechanical. That agriculture can produce only out of the lives of living creatures means that it cannot for very long escape the qualitative standard; that is, in addition to productivity, efficiency, decent earnings, and so on, is must have health. Thus, the farmer differs from the industrialist in that the farmer is necessarily a nurturer, a preserver of the health of creatures.

Second, whereas a factory has a limited life expectancy, the life of a healthy farm is unlimited … the topsoil, if properly used and maintained, will not wear out. Some agricultural soils have remained in continuous use for four or five thousand years or more.

Third, the motives of agriculture are fundamentally different from the motives of industry …

Finally, the economy of industry is inimical to the economy of agriculture. The economy of industry is, typically, an extractive economy: It takes, makes, uses, and discards; it progresses, that is, from exhaustion to pollution. Agriculture, on the other hand, rightly belongs to a replenishing economy, which takes, makes, uses and returns. It involves the return to the source, not just fertility or of so-called wastes, but also of care and affection…”

From “Home Economics: Fourteen Essays by Wendell Berry”

Mom's Chicken Noodle Soup

 

With a quart and a half of homemade chicken stock at hand we can move on to finishing the soup. This soup is soup is fashioned after my mother’s. It is meant to be the main course. She served it with home made bread and cheddar cheese on the side. It is about half broth and the balance is a combination of vegetables, chicken and noodles. By volume the finished soup yields about three quarts, and with the bread and cheese, enough to satisfy eight hungry diners. This is the stuff of a peasant’s feast – the crown jewel of an informal dinner party. (Note: The noodles in this soup are egg dumplings—essentially a dropped egg noodles. This is a topic for the future. For the following recipe, dried noodles are fine. No need to overwhelm anyone.)

To finish the soup you will need:

6 carrots

3 ribs of celery

1 medium onion

½ of a cooked chicken.

The above cut into bite sized pieces.

12 ounces of dried noodles cooked el dente.

Bring the stock and the water to cook the noodles to boil. Add the chicken and vegetables to stock reduce the heat to a very slow boil. Add the noodles to water again reduce to a slow boil. The noodles and vegetables should be done at about the same time. Then simply drain the noodles and add them to the soup. Adjust the seasoning with thyme, garlic powder, salt and pepper.

In this soup, we have created an ordinary household meal, common fifty or sixty years ago before the advent industrial agriculture and before our grocers’ shelves became packed with commercial food products. Its roots are in the home economy. In total our informal diner for eight can be served up for about a buck a person, not including the cost of the beverages. If we add in the cost of a decent dry white wine we can amply feed and drink our dinner guests for around seven bucks a head.

The homemade soup, with good bread, good cheese and good wine has informal gathering writ large across it. From that it is a glue that binds family, friends and neighbors. This simple soup and meals like it are one of the building blocks of family, community and gentle society. It starts with a whole chicken.

  

  

Chicken Stock: The Basics

The most difficult part in making chicken soup is the stock because it takes time – about six hours. Don’t be discouraged by this. The real work only involves cutting up a chicken or two. For soup, simply cut off the legs and breasts. What we’re after is a meaty carcass. Removing the legs is straight forward enough. To remove the breast, slice along one side of the breast bone to the rib cage, continue cutting along the rib cage until it is attached only where it joins the wing. At that point cut it free.

What remains of the chicken are the back with skin on, the rib cage and the wings. This carcass is the beginning of our soup. One of these will yield a flavorful quart to a quart and a half of stock which in turn will yield a hearty pot of soup serving four to six.

Roast the carcass back side up, in shallow roasting pan with one cup of water or low sodium canned chicken broth, in a 350^o for at least an hour or until the skin is golden brown.

Once the carcass is roasted put it along with the pan drippings in a four quart pot, cover with water and bring it to slow rolling boil. Cook uncovered, barely boiling for five hours. Add water a necessary to keep everything covered. After this slow brew the broth can be strained into another pot. If the soup is to be served the same day skim the fat off the top, otherwise refrigerate over night. The fat solidifies when chilled and is easily removed. And if it is a righteous pot of stock, it will be somewhat like Jello.

I do not add onions, carrots and celery and stuff to the stock pot. These things will enter in later as the stock is turned into soup. It might become a curry or a chili soup.  Assuming this is to be a traditional chicken noodle soup, finish the stock with ground celery seed, thyme, and garlic powder. Start with a ¼ teaspoon each and add more to taste. Then add one teaspoon of dried parsley. The result will be a stock that stands alone as soup with the addition of noodles only. We are now on our way to home cooking, recovering the home economy, and household living.

More on that to come with free range chickens, old shoes and the red Rudge.

Food Fight

We are in the crossfire of a food fight.  The Associated Press reported on October 7, 2010, that New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg and Gov. David Paterson requested that U.S. Department of Agriculture allow them to prohibit the purchase of sugary drinks with food stamps. It’s part of an obesity-fighting program.

Minnesota tried something more draconian in 2004. It sought to ban junk foods, including candy and soda and who knows what from food stamp purchases. At the time USDA rejected the proposal saying it would violate the Food Stamp Act’s definition of what is food.

Meanwhile, school districts across the US are torn between the revenue from in school junk food vending machines and nutritional health and well being of the kids they serve. First Lady Michelle Obama entered the arena with her own crusade on urban childhood obesity earlier this year.

It’s a food fight. The folks who are in the know want to tell us what to eat. There is irony. The folks in the know are also in charge of the FDA, the Department of Agriculture and the Department of Health and Human Services. They are the people who sculpted our food culture, nurtured our agricultural industries and set the stage for the commercial food industry which largely serves up our supper.

To night I am making chicken stock. Bread and soup will be our supper on Tuesday and possibly Thursday. It will be a meal for an ill friend on Tuesday as well. These are meals born from the home economy. Home cooking if you will and it is beyond the reach of the FDA, USDA and HHS. On this soup I will keep you posted. The stock starts with two whole chickens.

Tomato Soup: Exploring the distinction between food product and preserved foods

One would think a blog called Soup Crafter and yet what’s been served up so far is pasta and meatballs. What follows here is a soup recipe. It’s a tomato soup recipe that builds upon what has been already been covered. This too is quickly made of simple things and is, oh, so much better than a condensed tomato soup from a can.

With that said, understand my definition of soup is broad one that extends to stews and sauces. My purpose here is not to create a catalog of recipes. Instead, it’s a “roadmap” toward rediscovering the pleasures of home cooking, of home cooked foods and of meals shared. This recipe starts with a tomato sauce. Do not use canned products labeled tomato sauce. Doing so would be to surrender. I have no complaint with canned goods. But once they are labeled a sauce they are someone else’s sauce. They are generally too salty and more often than not made from inferior products.

This recipe begins with premium imported Pomi brand strained tomatoes. Alternatively one can start with tomato paste. The important thing is that what comes out of can or box has only one ingredient – tomatoes. What we have here is not so much a commercial food product but a commercially preserved food. It’s an important distinction.

Now to the recipe, this is a creamy thick soup which beautifully marries the smoothness of heavy cream and the sweetness of basil to the full flavor of fresh ripe tomatoes.

28 oz.  Box of Pomi brand strained tomatoes.

                Or

2   Six ounce jars of tomato paste diluted with two cups of water.

1  14.5 oz.  low sodium chicken broth.

½ Cup heavy cream.

3  Large, ripe tomatoes pealed and diced into a one inch dice.

2  Teaspoons dried basil.

In a four quart pot, combine the strained tomatoes or reconstituted tomato paste with the chicken broth, cream and dried basil. Bring to a boil then simmer. Meanwhile bring another four quart pot of water, half full, to boil. Score the skin on bottoms of the tomatoes with two shallow slices each about an inch long making an x. Submerge the tomatoes in the boiling water for about minute or so then plunge into cold water. The tomato skin will then easily peal way. Core and dice tomatoes and add them to the soup. Continue to simmer until the tomatoes are thoroughly heated yet still firm. Salt and pepper to taste then serve.

This recipe will serve six as the first course to a more substantial meal or four with a lighter meal accompanied with grilled cheese sandwiches.

Pasta with Scallops, Basil and Cream

If you have fallen victim to the food Nazi propagandists you may react to this recipe in the way vampires react to garlic and crosses – but instead horrified by the fat content. The food product industry (including but not limited to fast food, convenience foods, soft drinks, and snack foods) delivers up foods we are predisposed to liking through 100 thousand years of evolution. Sugar and fat are both high energy foods and are of great value to a biological creature fueled by calories. So naturally commercial food products will be loaded with either fat, sugar or both.

In any urban area of more that 10,000 residents it’s impossible to be further than ten minutes away from say a Big Mac value meal. A bag of chips and a 16 oz. bottle of pop are even closer. Carry out, fried chicken picked up on the way home from work solves the problem of supper.  We are surrounded and seduced by foods that pack a ton of energy but fail to satiate our hunger. Couple this with the sedentary working world of a “post-industrial economy” and we are doomed. Our evolutionary predispositions are murderous in the American 21^st century environment.

This reality, in turn, has given rise to an army of nagging food Nazi propagandists, who do nothing but badger us about the evils of fat while praising the virtues of raw carrots and such.  In their eyes the most evil fats are those that our grandparents and the generations before them cooked with – tallow, lard, butter, goose grease and bacon fat. A steak pan fried in tallow is the best, as is a pie crust made with lard or butter and ginger snaps made with goose grease are superb. (See Hanna's take on things for pie dough and chicken pot pie.)

The problem isn’t the fat. Our bodies need it for crying out loud. It’s our food culture. Fast with a main meal and two smaller meals a day, get some exercise and then by all means live off the fat of the land.

So here’s what you need for pasta with scallops in basil and cream.  Serves four.

1 lb. Bay Scallops

4 Sliced of Bacon Diced

2 Pints of Heavy Cream

1 Medium Onion Diced

½ Cup Dry White Wine

2 Table Spoons Flour

2 Teaspoons Dried Basil

Pepper to taste

In a two quart pot bring the heavy cream and basil to a boil. Keep your eye on this or it will froth over. Reduce heat to maintain a slow boil. In a four quart pot bring the water to cook the pasta to boil. Fresh linguini or spaghetti is preferable. Dried is okay. Mince the bacon and brown on medium high. There are a lot of things going on here.

Start the pasta now if using dried. Start it with the scallops if using fresh.

There is no need to hurry the bacon. Mince the beautiful onion and add it to the bacon. When the bacon is crisp, remove it and the onions from the sauté pan. Save the fat and whisk the flour into it to create a roux.  Poach the scallops in wine in a skillet. Do not overcook. They become like rubber. If things aren’t coming together in a timely fashion set them aside on a warm plate.

Thicken the reduced cream with the roux, add the bacon and onions and when the pasta is ready add the scallops and poaching wine. Add more wine if necessary. Then serve the scallops and sauce over the paste topped with Parmesan and Romano cheese -- freshly grated if you keep it on hand.  Eat well and enjoy the fat of the land.