Sunday Feast № 42 | Wild Rice Cranberry Soup

Not exactly the most photogenic, but sometimes that's what it has to be. You know it. That vegetarian cooked food that you must have to feel nourished, less stuffed, and virtuous. Here is my autumn baby. Adapted from "A Beautiful Bowl of Soup: The best vegetarian recipes" by Paulette Mitchell, I upped and tweaked the portions of the ingredients to match my one-and-only/last/entire supply of vegetable stock: 4 cups.

Sunday Feast № 29 | Korean Soybean Paste Soup

This is a simple story I am prone to have. After a discussion about miso soup, I ventured to procure miso paste. Now a sane person would probably pay more attention to the fact that they are in a Korean supermarket and Korean delicacies are more than likely to occupy shelf space. I grabbed a box of soybean paste not paying attention that doenjang is not the same as miso paste. The preparation process differs and so does the taste spectrum, so I read. What to do with doenjang then, I asked myself?    PBS Food website features a warming and light yet nourishing soup from Cathlyn’s Korean Kitchen that I altered by not using enoki mushrooms but upping the amount of shiitake and ground beef, using ichimi togarashi still curiously left from when I made Japanese-style Squid/Seafood Salad, and using a simple konbu and soy sauce broth instead of anchovy seakelp one. Apologies for straying into Japanese, but happily a mistake turned into a new favorite that hugs the belly just right.

Sunday Feast № 15 | Leek and Potato Soup and Steak with Béarnaise Sauce, my first two-course French dinner revisited

It is fair to say these are not the first savory French dishes I have ever made. Skipping around the French onion soup, which to me is only French in name - no disrespect, it's just the context in which I learnt it - bœuf à la Bourguignonne is the most likely first. However, unlike the formidable stew, these two are coolly sophisticated in their utter simplicity. And the simplicity is why I revisit. There is room to play despite it.    Whenever I buy celery, it is not consumed quickly enough before it wilts. Quite ironic considering that celery is a pheromone missile to be used by men, yet this misfortune is fully attributable to celery's stringiness and watery taste. It languishes some for those reasons. And lack of dip. Hence, I double up on it when possible, before cutting the stalks into finger long pieces, standing them up in a water filled container and refrigerating to prolong their crispness, then crossing my fingers hoping this time they will be eaten before any decay. Freezing just does not work. Also this time around one medium potato was not enough, and the soup can handle another one. Clearing out some vegetable acumen? You bet! As for the heavy whipping cream, it's what I had on hand. Its consistency suits the purée.    With a steady supply of butter, I could have clarified the butter myself for the sauce. Previously I have, yet this time around a jar of ghee had just the right volume. Clarified butter and ghee are similar concepts that differ in production methods and resultant nuances in flavor and color. Liquid gold either way. Having a jar of the stuff ready, slightly warmed up so it's melted, is a good off-the-shelf stand by as the constant whisking of the eggs with the tarragon infusion over very low heat will give you a reborn respect for any saucier, and anything that feels like a shortcut is welcome. I bide my time fearing I scramble the eggs and then whisk some more to steadily incorporate the melted ghee. By the way, the ever slightly more golden ghee resulted in a brighter yellow sauce rather than the classic light yellow when clarified butter is used. All in the eyes of the beholder, I suppose. The Béarnaise spirit is still there, courtesy of the shallot and tarragon, with a slight cosmopolitan twist. Mine often turns out thicker than velveteen, so I do not strain it, although I can see how straining would make it more refined and I have some more try-and-error in my future. Do your time.    Now the fun speedy time.