Soup For Your Woes

Happy Sunday! Don't you think you could use some soup right about now? For your deciding purposes, let's reflect on the reasons why soup is amazing:

•You can make a soup out of absolutely anything.
•No, really. I've been thinking about this. If you have at least an onion, you can make a soup.
•There are so many kinds of soup that the average human doesn't usually get sick of soup until April.
•It's lunch! It's dinner!
•It's easy to pack and reheat.
•It's better, as you know, when it's a leftover.
•It's an opportunity/excuse for consumption of carbohydrates.
•Every soup recipe creates 100 gallons of soup.
•All of your food groups fit inside soup.
•Soup is so good at being frozen!
•Spoons are my favorite utensil. Soup needs spoons, just like I do.

I started making a really incredible soup a few months ago, and I have been so excited to share it with you. Here's the back story: when Andy and I were in Bloomington, Indiana visiting his alma mater at the end of September, we went to his favorite soup spot downtown with our friend Eoban. It's called Darn Good Soup (cute, right?) and it's tiny, but I suppose soup restaurants really only need to be big enough to hold some big pots and some bowls, you know? They had tons of soup. Tons. The soup both of the boys went for immediately? Tortilla soup. Now I, being no fool at all, ordered the same thing but braced myself, as I've never met a tortilla soup that I've loved. But this soup changed my mind. Chicken, beans, corn, onion, and a whole mess of other delicious bits. The selling point, though? It's texture. Seriously creamy, and thick, and more like a stew or a chowder than a soup. I was sold. I, of course, had to make it immediately.

I began researching tortilla soup that night in bed, and I discovered that the key to a creamy tortilla soup is refried beans, thinned out a bit with the broth. And, when I made the soup, I discovered this to be true. It's substantial and lovely and, as far as soups go, the prep on this one is pretty easy and smooth. If you have had tortilla soup in the past, and you weren't too thrilled about it, I want you to try this one, because the consistency is really different than what you may be used to. I know I always hyperactively declare things EASY ENOUGH FOR A WORK NIGHT!!!, but it's true with this soup. Granted, it'll be even easier on the weeknight when it's already made and all you have to do is pull it out of your fridge or freezer, but it really is doable to make this when you get home from work.

Happy end-of-Sunday, everyone, and good luck with this workweek. You can do it! I believe in you!

Tortilla Soup

4 T unsalted butter OR 4 T olive oil
32 oz can diced tomatoes
32 oz chicken or vegetable broth
16 oz refried beans (I use the fat free kind because I don't really think that refried beans need lard)
1/2 corn (frozen or canned or fresh)
1/2 rotisserie chicken, shredded
1 large onion, diced
4 large garlic cloves, minced
1 heaping T chili powder
1 heaping T cumin
1 poblano pepper, diced
1 jalapeño pepper, diced (unless it's a really crazy hot one -- then use less!)
salt and pepper

Sauté onion and peppers in olive oil or melted butter. When the onions are to your liking (I like to cook the hell out of mine, getting them a little caramelized and pretty darn brown) add cumin, chili powder, and garlic, plus 1/2 t each salt and pepper. Cook, stirring with a wooden spoon, until spices are wet and thick (about 1 minute, maybe a bit longer -- they should be very aromatic). Add tomatoes, beans, corn, and broth, and mix until smooth. Cook through, and then add chicken, plus some more salt, pepper, and heat (red pepper flakes, hot sauce) to taste. That's it! You're done!

Top with cilantro, sour cream or plain Greek yogurt, lime juice, and tortilla chips.

Note about ambitiousness: If you're feeling really adventurous, you can make your own tortilla strips by slicing stale corn tortillas into thin strips and frying or baking them, but this isn't crucial in my book. The beauty of this soup is that it is so incredibly easy, and creating this soup will make you feel really accomplished in the way a cheater might feel after stealing the win in CandyLand, so making chips might suck too much of that glory right out of this project. But making chips might also make you feel like a wizard, in which case you should do it!

Only A Rooster

I Ate Here. Really.

Reward For A Chicken

So then. Several weeks ago, I promised you a story. I promised you a tale of magic and wonder. I promised to tell you all about the best thing I cooked last year. And, now, without further ado, the chicken pie!

In November, Andy and I had this incredible chicken pie at Feed on Chicago Avenue. Not chicken pot pie, mind you, chicken pie. And, yes, there is a difference! Not the most gigantic difference, but certainly the two have their own identities. It's a special dish at Feed because it is only offered every once in a great while. After we had it that first time and became obsessed, we inquired within, only to be told, "See that one guy in the kitchen? He just makes it whenever he has extra time or, you know, if he feels like it." Hmm. Okay. Andy feared that we were destined to never have it again, but I, being the maker-of-all-the-things, deemed that to be ridiculous and then proceeded to scour the internets for a recipe, but came up empty-handed. I couldn't find anything that even remotely resembled the one we had, so I nervously but excitedly took to the kitchen and, somehow, almost accidentally, ended up creating the single best dish I've prepared all year. I know, I know, it's crazy!

I lean toward hyperbole on a regular basis, but this time, I kid you not. I was thrilled with this dish. And I am, my friends, a very harsh critic. Three people ate this dish besides me, and I really don't want to toot my own horn too much here, but they might have all said it was the best thing they had ever eaten. My favorite quote is from Andy: "I love the chicken pie. I would kill for the chicken pie. I mean, like, kill people I like." And, now, weeks and weeks later, he still mentions it nearly every day. Now that's chicken pie. Huzzah! That's my best dish of the year, hands down!

For the recipe, I used what I remembered (not much, honestly) and just sort of invented the rest based on what Andy recalled and on what I imagined the ultimate chicken pie to look like. The chicken pot pie, of course, has a cream sauce for a base, and the chicken pie has more of, well, chicken for the base. I knew there wasn't a sauce in the chicken pie but I was incredibly nervous about it being too dry. Somehow, this was a non-issue, as it really doesn't stay in the oven long enough to get dried out. I was initially a little bit certain that I would never be able to create such a nice chicken pie ever again, but I was basically thrilled when I was able to replicate it a second time. Andy already has his plate ready, waiting for the third chicken pie to come out of the oven, whenever that may be.

So. Here's the plan. I'm going to give you a little outline for this recipe, but, because many of the steps and details have already escaped me, it won't be identical. But really, won't it be such a nice challenge for the new year? If you are a purist, you may scoff at the whole rotisserie chicken thing, but I encourage you to not scoff. The rotisserie chicken is what makes this thing incredible. You simply can't get the same results with chicken you cook at home. And you can't get the full flavor if you don't use the skin. So, feel no shame. Get yourself a hot baby chicken!

Chicken Pie*

1 rotisserie chicken, shredded and chopped (combination of white and dark meat, plus the good crispy skin bits)
1 medium Yukon Gold potato, cubed
2 carrots, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
1 parsnip, diced
1 medium yellow onion, diced
1 small turnip, diced
2 bay leaves
3 cloves garlic, minced
small handful of sage, minced
chicken or vegetable broth
double pie crust
salt and pepper

Make your pie crust. In a food processor, mix 2 1/2 C flour, 1 t salt, and 1 t sugar. Add 1 C cold butter, cut into pieces. Mix until it it crumbly and the butter is mixed in -- no chunks. Whir it all around in the food processor, slowly adding drops of water, until it forms a big, slightly wet clump that thuds around obnoxiously. Pull out the lump of dough and separate into two pieces. Form each into a disk and then press each one down onto a large piece of plastic wrap. Roll each piece into a circle that almost touches the edges of the plastic wrap, working gently to avoid having the dough stick to the rolling pin (and, no, I wouldn't advise adding flour at this point. You don't need the extra gluten, and it shouldn't stick too much without it). Once they are both big, nice disks, cover each with another piece of plastic wrap, or parchment, or wax paper. Place in the fridge on a flat surface for at least an hour.

While this fridge action is happening, make the innards to your pie. In a dutch oven or similar sort of vessel, cook onions and celery in a bit of olive oil until onions are browned and also translucent. Add bay leaves, sage, carrots, parsnips, turnips, garlic, and potato and cook, gradually adding broth (store bought or homemade from that rotisserie chicken of yours) until the vegetables are a bit softened, but so that they still have some firmness -- since they'll finish cooking in the pie. Add salt and pepper to taste. You'll want to thicken the broth a bit. Remove a cup of the cooking liquid, add a heaping tablespoon of flour, whisk it in, and then add back to the dutch oven mixture. (You can also remove the vegetables from the pan, make a quick roux, then add the veggies back in. It's up to you!) Ultimately, you're looking for a mixture consisting mainly of vegetables, in a shallow pool of gravy. If you make too much gravy, it's okay! Better to have too much than not enough. Turn off the heat. Add the chicken. Season if necessary. Cover.

By now, your dough-refrigeration time's up, so take the dough pieces out and bring them to room temperature, or close to it. Roll them out a little bit more, measuring to make sure they will fit in your pie pan. Peel off the wrapping on one side of one piece and ease it into a pie pan (I recommend Pyrex, but another kind would totally do). Gently press the sides in so that the dough is touching the sides of the pan, and trim the overhang a bit, making sure to leave a little extra. Add the chicken mixture to the pie pan, adding a bit of the gravy but maybe not all of it. You'll want it to be really moist, but not dripping wet. Cover with remaining circle of dough, press edges to seal, and twist the edges together to create a roped crust. Poke a knife into the top four or five times to let the steam escape. Brush with an egg wash, and pop it in the 350 degree oven until the crust is golden, approximately 30 minutes, but easily less, depending on your oven's hotness.

Cool awhile, and then eat it up! Serve with gravy, if you can, as well as macaroni and cheese and pickled beets.

*I know, I know, this recipe sounds like a pain in the ass. It's really not as bad as it seems, though! But, if you'd rather me just make you one, let me know.