Saturday, January 10, 2009

Rosie Makes Split Green Pea Soup.

I am always inspired and challenged
by other foodies' blogs
and today I am making
a split green pea soup,
with minor adjustments.

I found the recipe on Claudia's blog,
cook eat FRET.
And before I blatantly and shamelessly
rip off Claudia's Grandma Julia's
split pea soup with flanken,
just remember, Claudia,
imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

I've never made nor eaten green pea soup,
so I'm looking forward to this.
I always love trying something new.

First, what is flanken you ask.
Flanken is a slab of beef short ribs
taken from the main portion of
the ribs.
The flanken-style ribs are cut across the bone.
The English cut ribs are cut lengthwise.
For your porkography,
please click here.

So I guess what I have is actually the
English cut, not the flanken,
but I don't think that's
going to make any difference in my soup.
I mean, ribs is ribs, right?





Here's my mise en place:
2 packs short ribs
3 carrots
2 onions
2 turnips (which I decided to add in
since I have a whole big bag of them
which Mr. H. brought home
from his Mommie's)

1 package split green peas

My homemade chicken consomme.
thyme
bay leaves


My split green peas came with a package of Ham Flavor.
You know,
I could just open up this package

and
see the ham flavor,
but I resisted the temptation.

Here's my first package of beef short ribs.
Notice it's bone-in,
and there's not a lot of meat on the bones.

(Also, it's not the flanken cut.)


So I also have a pack of boneless
beef short ribs.
Wait a minute ...
Would they be ribs if they're boneless?
I don't think so.
But look at the package.
It plainly says:
"BEEF BNLS SHORT RIBS."
Hmmmm ...


I cut the boneless meat into chunks
and salted and peppered.

Next, I heated oil in my pan,
added the meat pieces one by one,
trying not to crowd,
and left the meat alone for at least a minute
without touching.


I browned the meat on all sides.

Ooooh.
Marrow coming out of the end of the bone.


Next, I coarse-chopped my veggies:
2 onions
3 carrots
2 turnips

Added the veggies to the meat.

Next, I added a quart of
my homemade consomme.


All the while, scraping up the goodie bits on the bottom.
This needed a bit more liquid,
so I ended up adding in a quart more of
chicken stock and water.


I rinsed my split green peas.

Added the peas to the pot.




Here's a picture of yummy goodness
on my spatula.











More yumminess.
Beef short rib,
onion,
split green peas,
turnip,
carrot.







I semi-covered my pot

and simmered over low heat
for 2 hours.



Whilst the pot was simmering,
I went out to my garden.


This is looking down from the deck
onto my herbs.

Beyond the herb garden,
I have, on the front row from the left,
kale, then mustard greens.
On the back row,
from the left,
I have snow peas,
lettuce, Swiss chard, and radishes.

Herbs here are
parsley, sage,
rosemary, and thyme
,
fennel, cilantro, and oregano.

Under my deck,
I have this wonderful
ground cover of Italian parsley.
And my parsley grows, produces, and self seeds
year round.
Even if it snows,
my parsley makes it through the winter.

I picked thyme, oregano,
sage, rosemary, and parsley.

Clockwise from top left:
minced parsley, oregano, rosemary,
sage, garlic, and thyme.

Here's a tip when chopping garlic:
Wet your knife and fingers
and the garlic doesn't stick as much.


In case you're wondering,
I'm preparing my homemade croutons,
which will beat out any crouton
you've ever had.
Hands down.

I sliced two baguettes.

Heated butter and Extra Light Bertolli olive oil,
then added the garlic and herbs.

Cubed bread went in next.

And I tossed and stirred
to mix well.

Spread the croutons
in a single layer
on a baking sheet
and baked in a slow oven - 200 degrees -
until nice and crispy,
turning occasionally.




Delicious, herby croutons.



Align Left
I make the bestest croutons.

Meanwhile,
Mr. Hawthorne cooked down some greens.
A chunk of country ham,
kale, and mustard greens
went into the pot.


Thirty minutes later,
it's cooked down to this.

An hour later,
it's down to this.

You can't overcook greens.
Mr. Hawthorne probably cooked these
for two and a half hours.
You want them to change color,
from green green to an olive drab green.
Stir frequently.
If you cook long enough,
they won't be bitter.


Now, this is what I'm having to cook around
today.
On the stove top,
from left,
the greens,
then the pea soup,
then my croutons.

And Dixie likes to be right in the midst of it all.

Beau is fast becoming a kitchen dog.
He knows Nana's kitchen
is a magical place,
full of awesome aromas
and tantalizing tastes.

Now, back to the green pea soup.
Throughout the 2 hour simmer,
I constantly came back to the pot
to skim off the scum.

After two hours,
I took the bones out
and cut off the meat
which I returned to the pan,
and I let the doggies strip the bones
of what meat I couldn't get.
What a treat!

I added 2 bay leaves
and a bunch of thyme
and salt and pepper.

And let the soup simmer on, uncovered,
skimming from the top,
and scraping from the bottom.

After 45 minutes,
I had this lovely fragrant sludge.
And sludge is not a bad word here.
Not at all.


I poured a small bowl for me,
being sure to include a chunk of rib,
some carrot and turnip pieces,
and my wonderful croutons.

Oh, my gracious.
Talk about your bone-huggin',
heart-warmin',
rib-stickin',
earthy,
hearty,
pea-ey
goodness.


Middle Hawthorne,
the only little Hawthorne at home now,
had 4 helpings.

Thanks, Claudia.
This was some kick-ass soup.


Dixie has reclaimed her throne
and Beau is banished to the floor.
And their noses are a-twitchin'.

2 comments:

Marilyn said...

Looks yummy-licious, Rosie. Now you just need to figure out how to share the aromas with your readers.

Kathy said...

I guess that's where our talent for "seeing the flavor" comes in.