12/13.12.07: Carlo Interlude

As you can see from this picture of the sun in the tree opposite the Pullens Centre, the weather this past few days has been crystal clear and freezing cold. The kind of conditions that surely call for the kind of hot and spicy soup of which Signor Atif is a past master.

Carlo is establishing himself as the Soup Kitchen's midweek attraction and his style is becoming familiar: on Wednesday, he makes a powerfully-flavoured soup which he calls by some enigmatic name that gives no clue as to the constituents of the soup, although its usually supported by such weighted adjectives as 'vegan' and 'organic'. This week's concoction was billed as 'Sweet 'n' sour Valentine': basically, a very gingery orange broth with pearl barley in the bottom. When I say gingery, it cleared the sinuses. Carlo told me he made it 'Thai style' and I'm not sure what that means, but I suspect what he did was grate the ginger and boil it up to make an infusion, added to finish what was a sensational and distinctly adult soup.

The day after, Carlo tends to extend what's left of his soup from the day before by adding a green vegetable puree, re-jigging the spices, and serving the soup with garlic bread as croutons. This week, he used broccoli (billed on the black board as 'Something Fab') and the resulting soup was thicker and heartier. Or maybe that was just me, getting into the festive mood a couple of weeks early.

Freed from the need to make soup from scratch, Carlo can focus his considerable culinary expertise upon the pasta, as Thursday is Pasta Nite. Again this week, he served fusilli with an extraordinary, fruity veggie sauce that defies conventional notions of Italianate, tomato-based pasta dishes. This one incorporated rhubarb (rhubarb!), which was a first for me, and was accompanied by a crisp carrot and sultana salad. Which was nice.

Although there weren't really enough takers to make it worth his while, hopefully Carlo will persevere with Pasta Nite for at least a few weeks into the New Year, until sufficient numbers of people get used to the idea that they can eat their dinner at the Pullens Centre on Thursday evenings.

11.12.07: Broccoli

Lou usually makes soup on Tuesdays but this today it was down to me. I sank a few pints last night with former Pullenite, Tim Platt, and started late this morning, so I thought I'd fall back on a classic, one for which I have an almost perfect recipe that I can knock out while slightly groggy and half asleep. So here goes:

1. At a stall in East Street, I spent a fiver on a carrier bag full of broccoli, about the kilos, plus the mirepoix vegetables: carrots, onions and celery, plus garlic and half a dozen waxy potato.

2. Start by peeling and crushing the cloves of a head of garlic and dicing three medium-sized mild onions, four biggish carrots and a smallish head of celery, tossing the veg as it's chopped into a splash of oil in the bottom of the soup pot, over medium heat.

3. Turn down the heat and season the mirepoix with a generous sprinkling - say, two desserts spoons full - of powdered coriander. Continue to cook with the lid on the soup pot, lifting which it regularly to stir the chopped veg to stop it from sticking.

4. Prepare the broccoli by removing and reserving the florets and chop the stalks into approximately a 1cm dice, adding it to the soup pot. The broccoli I had was nice and fresh, but the stalks were a bit stringy and needed quite a lot of cooking to soften up before being liquidizised.

5. Peel the potatoes, dice them into centimetre cubes and put them into the pot with the rest of the veg. Cover it with four litres of Marigold bouillon, bring the soup to the boil and simmer it for twenty minutes, until the broccoli stalks are soft and the potatoes start to dissolve. Then leave the soup to stand for five or ten minutes before whizzing it up.

6. Throw the broccoli florets into the soup with another two litres of bouillon, return to the heat and cook for a further ten minutes before blending the cooked florets into the soup with a stick mixer.

7. Serve with an optional swirl of fresh yoghurt, or cream if you prefer.

I used fresh, runny EasiYo yogurt and went a bit over the top in the bowl that's pictured, but it sorted my hangover and generally went down very well. Especially with Mike who wrote in the log bok: TRIFFIC - Broccoli; King of the Soup Jungle!!

10.12.07: Miso & Celeriac, Roots & Kale

This was the third variation on the winter Miso soup I've been developing, with chunky root veggies and shredded greens. The first, on 17.10.07, was thickened with pearl barley in the bottom; the second, on 23.11.07, had a base of red kidney beans, whizzed up. This one was thickened using a celeriac mash I made for my Sunday dins. I looked all over for celeriac and never thought of Lidl, but there I found a great big celeriac root. I steamed it with an equal quantity of potatoes and mashed the two together with a bit of fat. OK, you might as well know the truth. I admit I used real, unsalted butter from real cows and it was delicious.

First thing this Monday morning, I had to shop. Foolishly, I'd neglected to stock up on Marigold at Fare Shares last week, so was obliged to pay a quid extra in Baldwins this morning, where I also purchased a 300g pouch of Clearspring Hatcho Miso. As it turned out, this was probably more than I needed and maybe I could have saved some in the re-sealable pouch. This miso has seriously deep flavour and I reckon I could've got away with using maybe 200g in the six litres of liquid that went into today's soup.

I had a selection of rooty veg left over from the weekend, two types of turnip and those long red radishes from the Turkish supermarket, to which I added a couple of smallish swedes from Somerfield (on sale at half price!) and a polythene pillow of shredded curly kale.

To make the soup, I started by peeling the cloves of a head of garlic and roughly chopping a couple of largish onions, throwing them into the bottom of the soup pot with a splash of oil while I peeled and diced four large carrots and washed and chopped a head of celery, which also went into the pot. These mixed vegetables cooked slowly over very low heat with the soup pot lid on, being removed occasionally to stir, while I got on with peeling and dicing the rooty veg. I spread the diced swede, turnips and radishes onto an oven tray with a smear of oil and popped them into a hot oven to roast for 15-20 minutes. In retrospect, I'd have been better off with a wok, but I didn't have one to hand.

To the cooked mixed vegetables in the soup pot, I added the celeriac and potato mash, at least 3/4kg of it, plus the off cuts from the cubed root vegetables and covered it two litres of Marigold bouillon. I simmered the soup for fifteen minutes, left it to stand for ten and then liquidizised it with Brenda the blender while adding another two litres of bouillon.

The blurb on the back of the miso packet advises: 'avoid lengthy boiling to preserve the enzymatic properties of this unpasteurised miso', so I dissolved the 300g of miso paste in two litres of water that was hot, but not boiling. Finally, I assembled the soup by adding the cubed root vegetables and the miso to the pot and shredding the kale a bit more finely before stirring it in to the finished soup.

Before the soup was finished - and it was ready for 12:30 - a couple of women were waiting and nearly all the soup was gone by 3:00. Soon after 3:15, when Crampton Primary School lets out, Jack Kelly Granger burst in, breathlessly, to claim the last bowl.

Among today's soup slurpers were Taz and Will, Alexa and Julian . Taz has got an iPhoney and Julian had to restrain himself from dunking it in his soup. I needed a photo for the blog, so Will took a picture of me with the iPhone and pretended to dunk it in my soup. My face in I+I soup, innit.

7.12.07: Sweet Potato and Butternut Squash

I visited Lidl in the Old Kent Road, to stock up on paprika-flavoured crisps and confectionary that incorporates hazelnuts, and I noticed that they also sell quite a wide selection of veg. So, I bought a couple of kilos each of sweet potatoes (@ £1.45/kg) and butternut squash (99p/kg), which translated as three big potatoes and four small squashes.

I also bought carrots. onions, celery and garlic at Lidl and, on the way back to base, picked up a handful of plump green chillies and a packet of creamed coconut from Oli's and a stick of very fresh ginger (30p) from the Sino-Viet grocery store in Walworth Road. I searched for sage, but had to settle for a bunch of thyme (50p) from a stall on East Street.

Back at the Pullens Centre, I peeled probably a dozen cloves of garlic and roughly chopped two of the largish, mild onions, which I spread onto a roasting tray with a little oil and cooked in a hot oven until they turned brown and started to caramelise. I thought to do it that way rather than cook the chopped veg in the bottom of the soup pot, but I'm not sure it made any discernible difference to the eventual flavour, so I probably won't bother again.

I minced the ginger and half a dozen chillies, peeled and chopped the carrots and washed and sliced half a head of celery. Then, with my sturdiest peeler, I peeled and diced the squashes and sweet potatoes into roughly 3/4 inch cubes.

Over a moderate flame, I first tipped the partially roasted onion and garlic mixture off its tray into the soup pot, adding the chillies and ginger and cooking for a few minutes before adding the carrots and celery. While continuing to peel/chop of the other veg, I cooked this base with the lid on the pot for a good fifteen minutes before adding the diced orange roots and squashes, covering with four litres of Marigold bouillon and whacking the heat up to bring the pot to a boil.

I simmered the soup for half an hour until the sweet potatoes were soft, added a 200g block of coconut cream dissolved in a litre of boiling water, and left the pot to stand for ten minutes before going to it. I tried to use Gaynor, but Gaynor was no-go. So, I had to decant half the soup into a smaller pot and use a hand mixer to blend it. Which worked fine, with one commentator in the log bok remarking that the soup's texture was 'smooth as silk'.

Ken - in his first visit to the Soup Kitchen - wrote that 'the sweet taste of these veg. together is exactly what my acupuncturist told me to eat'. To which I say, 'hurry back, Ken!'

Later, I got Jan to see to Gaynor and she opined that - apart from the blown fuse caused by a loose lead - the basic problem was that she had been mis-named. Apparently, one cannot call a stick mixer 'Gaynor', no matter how glorious the soups she swirls. It's like there's a law against it. Especially when the blender's name is quite obviously Brenda. Like the Queen in Private Eye. So, from now on, it's Brenda the blender, innit.

6.12.07: Tamarind 2 + Silent Pasta Night

Tim Hutchin's Christmas window in Iliffe Street.

Carlo extended yesterday's soup with the addition of pureed Brussels sprouts, which fooled Jan, who had two bowls despite her loathing of those baby brassicas. Later, when I texted to remind people that pasta was being served in the Pullens Centre, Jan texted back to ask if Brussels were involved and I had to assure her that, although they were present, they were easily avoided.

The crisply-boiled sprouts were served cold, dressed with spiced yogurt as an accompaniment to the pasta, billed as Fusilli Green Costa Rica with a touch of sultana and pineapple. The green was derived from a can of Natco spinach puree, naturally, and the dish also included cubes of swede and shreds of curly kale, seasoned with Carlo's distinctive style. As Daisy wrote in the log bok, 'Amazing food... in the evening'.

Daisy just happened by and saw the sign and I texted all the Pullens people in my phone, but still Carlo served only about half a dozen people. One of them, Graham, came back at noon the next day to ask if here was any pasta left and, indeed, there was loads. Next week, hopefully, there'll be a few more takers.