Soupe or zuppa?

I’m trying to remember how old I was when my Dad made his now infamous potato soup. I think my next two siblings were toddlers but the others hadn’t been born. That means it was just me alone with his cooking skills—which might have extended as far as Arabian cooking but certainly had not made the cultural leap yet—actually, based on the matazeez incident in which he tried to poison my grandparents while he was dating my mother, I don’t think they extended that far—when my mom left him in charge of making dinner. Surely she meant to simplify things by suggesting he make potato soup. Maybe she even gave him instructions. I don’t know.

What I do know is that he winged it. Potato soup has to have potatoes so he cut some up in small pieces and boiled them. And boiled them. And boiled them until they jelled. The starch in a potato is a funny thing. It can suck up a lot of water like a sponge and form long sticky ropey molecule chains. This is why it’s good to let your potatoes drain awhile, or even reheat them in the pan a little to dry them off when you are making mashed potatoes. The starch cells can also collapse if handled with any force, like mashing or whipping them really hard in hopes of creating some kind of “creamy” base for the soup. I don’t believe it crossed his mind to use milk, or if it did, it was too late. The casein in milk (and butter) interacts with the potato starch to keep the starch from swelling and forming those long chains. Just try making mashed potatoes without either and see what you get.

As my mother tells the story, when she walked in the door she found us all sitting in silence around the kitchen table. I looked up at her and said, “I hope you’re hungry!” with all the contempt for her neglectful parenting that my preadolescent body could conjure. “What’s for dinner?” she chirruped. I held out my bowl, picked up my spoon, plunged it into the center of the white shimmering mass, and let go. It stood straight upright.

But let’s go back to Italy and France for our cuisine comparison. I love soup, including potato, regardless of any past trauma. Thank goodness my mom didn't tell my dad he should make some little hat soup for dinner. 

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Cappelletti in Brodo (Little Hat Soup)

Prepare and set aside 2 quarts chicken broth

Combine and set aside:

 ½ cup (about ¼ lb) ricotta or cottage cheese

½ cup finely chopped cooked chicken

2 T grated Parmesan cheese

1 egg, slightly beaten

1/8 t salt

Few grains nutmeg

Few grains pepper

Prepare half recipe of basic noodle dough. Roll about 1/16 inch thick. Cut into rounds with 2 ½ round cookie cutter. Place ½ t cheese-chicken mixture in center of each round of dough. Fold each round in half, covering the mounds of filling. Dampen edges of pasta with water and press together to seal. Bring two extreme ends together. Dampen and press together to seal.

Bring broth to a boil and add pasta. Cook about 20-25 minutes or until pasta is tender. Test by pressing a piece against side of pan with fork or spoon. Serve with broth.

Pasta (Basic Noodle Dough)

Sift into a large bowl:

4 cups flour

¼ t salt

Make a well in the center of flour.

Add 4 eggs, one at a time, mixing slightly after each addition. Gradually add 6 T cold water.

Mix well to make a stiff dough. Turn dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead (page 6). Proceed as directed in recipes.

Potage Saint-Germain (Green Pea Soup)

Put into a heavy saucepan:

1 small head lettuce, shredded

2 cups shelled fresh green peas

1 cup water

½ cup chopped green leeks (green part only)

2 T fat

2 t chopped chervil

1 t sugar

1 t salt

¼ t pepper

Bring quickly to boiling and cook until peas are tender. Reserve 3T peas for garnish. Put remaining mixture thru sieve. Return sieved mixture to the pan. Reheat with 2 cups bouillon. Just before serving, blend in 2 cups cream and heat thoroughly. Garnish with reserved peas.

Can't have soup without some great bread, I'll have to do that comparison next time.