Tag: soup

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Soup weather

It all started with a big paper bag of chestnut mushrooms. Perfectly in season, brown, earthy and fresh. Smelling of autumn. That, and a glance out of the caravan window at the rain convinced me that it was definitely soup weather.

Sautéed mushrooms

Much as I like a bowl of Heinz mushroom soup as a quick, comforting lunch, a homemade soup is really in another league and is well worthwhile the small effort that it takes.

Mushrooms, chopped sweet chestnuts, garlic, fresh parsley and tarragon are the mainstays of this soup. A slosh of cream or creme fraiche finishes it. It’s warming and delicious, and cooks up in less than thirty minutes.

Mushroom & sweet chestnut soup

As winter approaches I make soup much more often. There’s usually a pot of soup simmering on the stove most days in this weather. Soups are so versatile, and can be made cheaply from the simplest of ingredients.

Amongst our personal favourites are mushroom and chestnut, fresh chicken, winter vegetable, butternut and sweet potato, leek and potato, Cullen skink and lentil soups. Not having a blender here in the caravan, all of our soups are left “au-naturel” and somehow feel all the more of a meal for that.

Served up with warm cheese scones, or good crusty sourdough bread, soups are definitely the food of autumn.

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Chunky living

One of the things that having no kitchen tools here in the caravan has meant is that we don’t “process” any foods. This simply means that nothing we eat is smooth. Everything is chunky.

For example, when I make a vegetable soup, which I often used to blend to a silky puree with a stick blender or food processor, I now leave it au naturel. I’ve got quite attached to real chunks of vegetables in my soup rather than a blended uniformity.

Hummus

The same is true for hummus. I often make this by hand because it’s cheaper and I think much more delicious than shop bought. I can control exactly what goes into it. I add tahini, lemon zest, garlic, fresh parsley and good olive oil.

However, I’ve been used to zapping it up in the food processor to the usual smooth slurry we’re all used to seeing in the deli counter tubs.

Now I’m having to hand-crush chickpeas with a fork, an undertaking not for the faint hearted or weak of thumb. It creates a rustic, very chunky hummus, which was a bit of a shock to the system to start with, but which I actually now prefer.

So, once we are in the house, with a real kitchen with appliances once again, I shall remember these learnings.

We will keep to our chunky living. Life isn’t all smooth. We may as well enjoy it whilst we still have our own teeth 😊.

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Waste not, want not

My mother used to use this phrase a lot. She was born of a generation that valued thriftiness, and it’s a mantra that I wish I’d taken up more seriously years ago.

My generation was, in contrast, one of consumption, and I shudder now as I think back to the waste I created without a second thought over the years.

I’ve always tried not to waste food, but it’s only really been in recent years that I’ve started really repurposing other things rather than just throwing them out.

Many of my seedlings are being grown on in yoghurt pots, old fruit juice cartons and mushroom trays that I would have previously discarded without a second thought.

Composting is taking care of most of our vegetable-based kitchen waste, and I’m repairing clothes now that I have time to do so rather than endlessly buying new. I feel better for it, I honestly do.

The langoustine feast left us with an enormous pile of empty shells, heads and claws. Janni, our neighbour, passed on a brilliant Icelandic recipe for langoustine bisque which she warned was smelly to cook, but quite delicious.

The stock making process was indeed stinky. I opened all the doors and windows in the caravan but the smell was still strong hours later!

The resulting bisque was gorgeous with a deep, richly intense flavour. There are no artistic Instagram swirls of cream here, I’m afraid, just bowls of soup with crusty homemade spelt sourdough bread given to us by another neighbour.

Janni made wild garlic aioli to go with hers, but I hadn’t been out harvesting yet.

As we sat eating our bisque watching another pink sunset over the mountains, I reflected that dinner tonight was largely made out of leftovers.

My mother would have been proud.

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Gales, rain & lentil soup

The cold, crisp winter days of the last month have been replaced by a storm front bringing with it high winds and torrential rain. I knew it couldn’t last.. 😊

Last night the wind veered to the South West from the Easterlies that had been dominating for the last few weeks, and the caravan started to flex like a boat in the wind.

As I write, curled up on the cushions in the caravan, everything is moving. The noise of the wind, which is about 55 mph at the moment, is incredible. The rain sounds like a thousand marbles being flung at the windows, rattling and crashing loudly against the glass.

I can no longer see the mountains across the Sound or the sea itself through the sheet of rain that has wrapped itself around us.

Then it clears, replaced with an incredible luminosity until the next bank of rain-heavy clouds bear down on us.

Luckily we are well strapped down, so I don’t have any real fear of being scooped up and tumbled down the hillside, although at times it feels like that!

I drink my tea and soothe our rather startled old dog who doesn’t understand why everything is moving. He’s never really understood the caravan.

I’ve made some garlic lentil soup to warm us both through later.

It won’t change the weather, but it will provide some comfort on this wild winters day.