Soup's On

As you can see by the tardy appearance of this post, 2012 is off to rather a slow start. What began as a mild winter - G. was sitting outside in his shirtsleeves on New Year's Day - has finally given way to frosty fields and frozen fingertips.

I've chosen my corner, I may not move till spring. Have you met my chaise longue? (Dreams do come true). I've pushed it as close to the wood burning stove as I can without singeing my eyebrows, and there a warm glow coming from the wall G. recently spent 3 weeks painting with local ochre pigment (more complicated than it looks)...

I'm not a subtle fire maker. No girl-scout rubbing twigs together, I.

I'm more of a "Load em up" lady. Five logs, a thicket of kindling, two cushy balls of newspaper and a handful of fire-starters. It may not be worthy of outward bound, but I grew up with a single Duraflame log that you lit without even taking off the paper wrapper. I think progress is being made. Plus, I'm lugging my own wood from the cellar, which has to count for something.

In my cozy corner, I've been re-reading David Copperfield - which is wonderful, because I've forgotten absolutely everything except the dead mother (there's always a dead mother in Dickens) and the ever-creepy Uriah Heep. I've also been falling asleep over the "Code de la Route" - which I need to memorize (or at least finish) before my French driving exam in early Feb. The test is very French, as there can be three right answers to any question.

My other post (the second warmest spot in the house) is at the stove. I've been making soup. All kinds of soup. Barley soup, spilt pea soup, and my classic carrot and parsnip soup - made with the leftover champagne from New Year's Eve. Augustin often joins me, demanding to be lifted up and saying "me tourne!" which is Franglish for "Let me stir, Mommy". I alternate between the pots and the computer. Cooking is my best remedy for writer's block. With G. away on business, I even dug deep into the pantry and found a box of instant Jell-o brand pistachio pudding that my mom snuck over on her last trip.
The French eat a lot of soup. It's warm, filling, convenient, cheap. It freezes well and expands to feed extra guests. We have friends - and they're not alone - who eat some kind of vegetable soup, bread and yogurt almost every night for a light dinner, as they (and the kids at school) eat their main meal at lunch. You'll also find a striking number of French women on veggie soup de-tox diets after the foie-gras laden excesses of the holidays.

It's not precisely de-tox, but spilt pea soup is a winter favorite of mine. Ideal for a one bowl meal - if you play your cards right, your spoon will stand up by itself. I add a good slab of pork belly (a ham hock or a hunk of pancetta will also do nicely) for a meaty flavor. A cinnamon stick and 2 or 3 cloves add depth and a slight sweetness. My mom remembers making this with sherry or vermouth (sounds like Julia Child to me), but I added a swig of cognac we had laying around. Very nice indeed.

Spilt Pea Soup

1 kilo (2.2 lbs) spilt green peas

1 ham hock or 1inch thick slice of pork belly, slab bacon or pancetta

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 carrot

1 large onion

1/2 bulb fennel

1 cinnamon stick

1 bay leaf

3 cloves

2 chicken boullion cubes (or 2 small cans low sodium chicken broth)

2 tablespoons cognac or brandy

In a large stockpot, saute veggies, spices and ham/bacon in olive oil until meat is browned and onions are translucent. Add cognac. Add spilt peas and stir. Disolve boullion cubes in 1 cup boiling water. Add to the pot. Cover split peas with boiling water, about 1 inch above their level in the pot. Simmer for 1 hour. Continue to add boiling water as needed, until your soup reaches the desired thickness. Remove meat and bay leaf. Blend soup with a hand blender. Serve with the shredded meat of the ham hock on top, or a dollop of plain yogurt.

If reheating - dilute with water and/or a dribble of white wine.

Note: You won't want to add any salt to the soup, as the ham/bacon takes care of the salt content...

Serves 8