Soup | The Suburban Peasant

Sunday Soup (Domača Juha)

A rich, flavourful broth, speckled with tender, paper-thin noodles is not only a healthy way to begin a meal, but a must for any Croatian Sunday lunch.

Soup is the holy grail of Croatian cuisine. Not just any soup though, but the soup, domača juha (dom-a-cha yoo-ha). Domača juha means “homemade soup” in Croatian. Everything I make on here is homemade, so I knew that translation wouldn’t work in describing this staple. I needed to think of something that would highlight this course’s importance, one that would illustrate its place in Croatian cuisine and a title as simple and pure as the dish itself. In my About + Follow Me introduction, I describe this soup as a culinary tradition in Croatian households, the starter to the long, multi-course Sunday meals. It is what marks the Sunday lunch as special, celebratory and nurturing. What more appropriate and noble name for a soup that is this special, than Sunday soup? I know of none.

In my house we just call it soup. This is how transcending and all-encompassing Sunday soup really is. When I say soup, my husband knows I don’t mean lentil soup or cream of broccoli or Italian wedding, but the clear, yellow, richly flavoured broth and the ethereal-like noodles that float so delicately across the surface. This is the stuff that perfumes your entire home as it simmers on the stove for hours. One of the first forms of solid foods that pass through the lips of little Croat babies. It is the magical remedy that cures all ailments from the flu, to an upset stomach, homesickness and yes, even hang overs. It is what your mom made you eat above all the other items that filled the holiday tables and until you did you couldn’t go play with your cousins. Finally, it is the prerequisite to the all important and never to be missed, dessert at baka’s house.

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Čušpajz (Cabbage Soup)

Do you like funny words? Well if you do, here’s a doozy for you – čušpajz (choosh-piezz). Yes, choosh-piezz is an actual world and it’s really quite fun to say; go ahead, give it a try, choosh-piezz! See what I mean, it’s fun isn’t it! Čušpajz has always been a word that I love saying. The combination of the “ch”, “sh”, “y”, and “zzz” sounds all jammed into one little word is quite unique and its up there amongst some of my other favourite Croatian words like kikiriki (key-key-ree-key) which are peanuts (yes, go figure), šišmiš (sheesh-meesh) a bat, the kind that flies and čevapčići (che-vap-chi-chi) the Balkan specialty many non-Croatians know as chevaps.

Now, you might be asking yourself, what is čušpajz? If you’ve seen the picture, which you probably have, you have probably made the assumption that it’s some kind of soup or stew, and you’re right it is. But čušpajz, is a bit different from your average soup, čušpajz is a thickened soup; thickened with a roux, called zafrig (za-freeg) that is cooked in a separate pot (at least that’s how my mom always did it) and added to the soup near the end. The end result, is a thick, silky, hearty and utterly satisfying bowl of pure goodness.

I have to admit, I didn’t always think of čušpajz in such an affectionate manner. In fact, as a kid, I loathed this dish; I absolutely hated it! In the fall and winter my mom made a cabbage čušpajz, like the one I am showing you today and in the summer, a version with Romano beans, mahune (ma-hoo-ne). I despised both! On days when I saw the big pot of cabbage and vegetables simmering away on the stove, I begged, pleaded, implored my mother to make something else for me and my siblings (they didn’t like the stuff as much as I did), but back then, well in my parent’s house at least, you ate what was prepared for you and if you didn’t like it you starved! Usually, we would fight over the chunks of potatoes and fill our bowls with broth to dip countless pieces of bread in, because it was either that or nothing. Today, this type of parenting would be classified as child neglect, but I still consider it smart parenting! If you’re hungry you’ll eat, and if you don’t like it you will grow to like it and you know what, it worked! I always ended up eating čušpajz, regardless of how much I disliked it, because I knew I wouldn’t get anything else and I eventually grew to like it. Now, it’s one of my favourite comfort food dishes.

There are probably a million ways to prepare čušpajz and like many Croatian recipes, every family has their own way of doing it. Some may not even call it čušpajz, but varivo (va-ree-vo) the “literary” term for stew, or the proper, non-dialect word. Sound confusing? It is. Try being married to someone whose family speaks a totally different dialect, even though they’re from the same region! There have been times when my husband’s Baba says something to me and I just nod and smile, without the slightest idea of what she’s saying. Just to show you how different one dialect can be from another, here’s an example using two ingredients in čušpajz - cabbage and carrots. Most people who don’t speak kajkavski (the name of the dialect both my husband and my family speaks, found in and around northern and central Croatia) know that zelje (zel-ye) is cabbage, where the rest of the country calls it kupus (koo-poos) but I bet you didn’t you know that merlin (mehr-leen) are carrots, where everywhere else it’s mrkve (merk-veh)? It’s no wonder there are so many different ways of preparing one dish, when there’s so many different ways in saying it! Whether you call this čušpajz, varivo or cabbage soup, or make it with beans, spinach or kale, know that it is a simple bowl of sustenance, that fed many poor but hard working people for generations. It’s far from fussy, full of goodness and according to my dad, a dish that falls under the most important type of meal there is – the kind you eat with a spoon.

Čušpajz

I use chicken stock for my liquid, where traditionally only water would be used. Remember, this is a peasant dish so adding chicken stock to a stew that would be flavoured from the vegetables would be a waste. Plus, chicken stock is traditionally consumed as domača juha (a simple broth with noodles, the corner-stone of any Croatian Sunday or celebratory meal) so I have to admit, it would be unheard of to add chicken stock when making čušpajz. While I like to keep with tradition, I also recognize when something just tastes better and adding chicken stock, well, it just tastes better.

The addition of meat is also optional, but does lend a lot of flavour, especially if you’re using smoked meat, so it shouldn’t be overlooked. I use my dad’s homemade smoked and dried bacon, špek (sh-pek). Look for slab, double smoked bacon if possible, if you can’t find anything like that, then regular bacon is fine too.

Serves 6 to 8

125 g double smoked, slab bacon, cubed

1 large onion, diced

2 medium carrots, peeled and sliced in rounds

2 medium stalks of celery, diced

3 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed

1/2 head of cabbage, sliced and then cut the slices in squares

1 1/2 cups canned, whole tomatoes, crushed

8 cups chicken stock

Salt, pepper and Vegeta to taste

Roux (zafrig)

4 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 cloves garlic, minced

4 tablespoons flour

1 teaspoon paprika

In a large, heavy bottom pot render the bacon until crisp over medium heat, about 5 minutes. Add the onion and cook until translucent, 2 minutes, then follow with the carrots and celery. Stir to combine and cook for 5 minutes. Add the potatoes, cabbage, tomatoes, stock a large pinch of salt and some freshly ground pepper, stir and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and allow to simmer for 30 to 40 minutes or until all of the vegetables are tender.

In a separate saucepan, heat oil over medium heat. When hot, add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Sprinkle in the flour and paprika and cook for 1 minute to toast the paprika and lightly brown the flour. With a ladle, scoop out some two ladlefuls of broth into the pot and with a whisk quickly. The mixture will thicken quickly and bubble quite a bit. Add another two ladlefuls of stock and whisk until smooth. Let the roux come to a boil, then add it to the large pot of vegetables. Stir to combine. You will notice the soup take on a thicker, creamier texture. Season with 1 to 2 teaspoons of Vegeta and/or salt and freshly ground pepper. Serve while hot with crusty bread and a teaspoonful of vinegar to each bowl – if you like.

Pappa al Pomodoro with Roasted Tomatoes and Asiago

Pappa al Pomodoro is a tomato soup that is thickened with bread; a true Tuscan peasant food – the kind of dishes I love to cook. It’s also one of those dishes that is perfect for this time of year, when tomatoes are still hanging on their vines, but tomato salads just aren’t cutting it anymore and we’re craving something a little more substantial and a little more comforting. Technically, we’re still in the summer season but you can definitely feel fall nipping at our heels – or our ears for that matter. Evenings are cool, mornings are cooler, winds are picking up and the days are becoming shorter and shorter. I know how difficult it can be to let the dog days of summer go – trust me, I know! But if you’re from a climate that experiences all four seasons, could you imagine not experiencing it? Could you fathom not witnessing the changing of the leaves in fall, or the thrill of waking up to a blanket of white snow on Christmas morning? How about the liberating feeling that spring brings when wearing a t-shirt or a pair of sandals for the first time, after a long winter of socks and sweaters and spending hot summer nights enjoying a glass of wine on the deck with good company. This is the beauty of living in the seasons.

Another beautiful thing about living in the seasons is eating in the seasons. Just a few months ago, I was pining for spring and summer vegetables and had it up to here – I’m cutting my hand through the air, just above my head – with squash, broccoli and cauliflower. I now salivate over recipes that contain these ingredients and can’t wait to recreate them in my kitchen. But that’s how cooking and eating seasonally goes. You gorge yourself with what’s available at that time and cook it every which way possible. Suddenly, you become totally sick of it because you’ve been eating it two or three times a week for three months straight and voilà – another season has finally come upon us and it’s time for something new!

Pappa, which means something soft or mushy, especially soft or mushy food, and pomodoro, which are tomatoes (essentially, mushy tomatoes) was not only a way for Tuscan peasants to use up stale bread, but it was often prepared because it was cheap, but hearty. Scraps of vegetables and unsightly tomatoes were cooked in water and the entire pot of soup was thickened with stale bread to give it more substance – a dish of true poverty. Today, it is a dish that can be found in any Italian cookbook and raved about by aficionados of Italian cuisine. It has also become more luxurious and definitely more rich than when the peasants made it. Additions of chicken stock instead of water, bacon fat instead of olive oil and cheese instead of pangrattato (heavily seasoned breadcrumbs that were sprinkled on food in lieu of cheese for extra flavour) are all valuable ingredients that peasants could not afford to add to simple, non-celebratory meals. However you decide to enjoy this soup it is a meal – and this soup does eat like a meal – that is perfect for this time of year. It’s a great way to use up those tomatoes that have been ripening on your counter, to taste the last breath of summer and feel the comfort and warmth of the fall season ahead.

In honor of my 50th post, Sweet Chili Sauce, I would like to thank my readers and welcome new readers with a special giveaway. Please stay tuned over the next week for details on this giveaway and a peak at the prize. Your first hint: Patience is a virtue and I promise there is a “silver” lining to those who wait.

Pappa al Pomodoro with Roasted Tomatoes and Asiago

Roasting the tomatoes and accompanying vegetables is not necessary, but it does add a deeper more robust flavour to the soup. If you don’t have the time then you may skip this step. Simply sweat the onions in olive oil, add the carrots and cook for 5 minutes and then add the tomatoes. The rest of the recipe remains the same.

If you do not have a food mill you can use an immersion or stick blender or a regular blender. I like using the food mill as it provides a coarser texture and ultimately, a chunkier soup.

I have also included a variation to this soup at the end of this recipe for a Cream of Tomato soup that is also very, very good!

Adapted from “Pappa al Pomodoro,” Barefood Contessa: Back to Basics, by Ina Garten

2 onions, quartered

2 medium carrots, coarsely chopped

5 or 6 large tomatoes, quartered

1/2 cup olive oil

3 slices bacon or pancetta, chopped (optional)

4 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 cup dry red wine

4 cups chicken stock

1/4 cup packed, chopped fresh basil leaves

2 cups day-old ciabatta bread, or any country-style bread (no sandwich bread please), crusts removed and cubed

1/3 cup grated Asiago cheese

Preheat oven to 400 degrees farenheit. On a large baking sheet, spread out the vegetables in a single layer and toss with olive oil, salt and pepper. Broil on high for 10 minutes, flip the vegetables and continue to broil for another 5 to 7 minutes. Once you have gained some char on the vegetables, roast for another 10 minutes on 400 degrees until they have softened considerably.

In a large, heavy bottom pot render the bacon or pancetta until crisp. Remove with a slotted spoon, drain on paper towels and set aside for later. Add the minced garlic to the bacon fat and cook until fragrant (if you decide to omit the bacon, simply cook the garlic in 2 tablespoons of olive oil). The vegetables, along with any accumulated juices are added next, followed by the red wine, chicken stock and basil. Stir thoroughly to combine and simmer over medium heat for 30 to 40 minutes.

Set up a food mill over another pot and begin ladelling the soup into the device, puréeing the soup in batches. Conversely, you can use an immersion blender or traditional blender. Once all of the soup is puréed, add in the cubed bread and simmer for 10 minutes. Break up any chunks of bread with a whisk. Remove from heat and add in the grated Asiago. Serve hot, topped with the crisped bacon and a sprinkling of a little more Asiago.

Variation: Cream of Tomato Soup

To make the cream of tomato soup do not roast the vegetables. Omit the bacon and sweat onions in 3 tablespoons of olive oil. Add in the carrots, cook for 5 minutes then add the tomatoes. Cook the vegetables together for 10 minutes before adding the stock and basil. Simmer over medium heat for 45 minutes, or until the vegetables are soft. Purée, as instructed above, but instead of adding the bread and Asiago, stir in 3/4 cup of heavy cream. Bring to a simmer and serve while hot.

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Red Lentil and Chorizo Soup

on January 16, 2012

Lentils, Chorizo and a ton of veggies make for a spicy, flavorful and robust soup, perfect for a meal or a starter.

It’s January. All the remnants of Christmas and New Years have been packed, purged and phorgotten (I know. There’s no ‘ph’ in forgotten, but I was going with a ‘p’ theme if you haven’t noticed . . . What? It works for phone . . .)

January can conjure up a plethora of images, feelings and let’s face it, gripes and grumbles. Who wouldn’t feel some sort of resentment towards this dreary month? January marks the end of the – cue Christmas music here – “Most wonderful time of the year . . .” We go from a good, two solid weeks of party hopping, face stuffing and eggnog guzzling (among other festive liquid concoctions), to mind-numbing New Year’s resolutions, shopping bans and worst of all, diet restrictions! Dum dum dummmm!

January also signals the debt of no return, where those big ticket Christmas purchases come back to haunt us. We stare at our credit card bills a little dazed and a lot of confused. We ask ourselves if our husbands will actually use that expensive drill thing-a-ma-jig that they begged you for and Mike Holmes swears no wanna-be, I mean, do-it-yourselfer should be without.

Finally, there’s of course the weather. If you’re like me, you like the changing of the seasons. You enjoy seeing the trees sprout little emerald buds on their bare branches in the spring. Witness the lush greens and vibrant hues in the height of summer. Catch the tumbling of autumn’s leaves in the fall and yes, the beauty of a blanket of snow enveloping the frosty streets at Christmas. Yes, at CHRISTMAS. After Christmas, it can go away. Good bye. Hasta la vista! Sayonara! But of course, I live in Canada and that’s all just wishful thinking. The reality is we’ll get snow and lots of it, long after the passing of the jolly season and it could very well encroach into the spring. I shutter as I think back to past snow storms in late March and early April. Brrrrrrrrr.

All complaining aside, we have been pretty lucky this winter THUS far. We’ve experienced very mild temperatures and a smidgen of snow here and there; but my friends, I am afraid that luck is about to change. The forecast today calls for a significant temperature drop, rain and yes, you guessed the ‘S’ word. No, not that one, although I’m sure we’ve all said it as we looked out of our windows after a snow storm. Days like today as ice pellets ping-pong against your window and you feel like you just can’t shake that chill from your bones, call for some drastic measures. So what better way to ward off the January cold and all the plights that come along with this month, than a warm and comforting bowl of soup! Continue reading…

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Simple cooking in a complicated world

Posts from the ‘Soup’ category

Sunday Soup (Domača Juha)

Čušpajz (Cabbage Soup)

Pappa al Pomodoro with Roasted Tomatoes and Asiago

Red Lentil and Chorizo Soup

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Posts from the ‘Soup’ category

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