Celeriac, Leeks and Quince Creamy Soup

I have been long wondering how other food bloggers get those wonderfully gloomy photographs that add quite a bit of drama to their foods. A dull November Saturday in Istanbul brought the answer: some of my brothers and sisters-in-food-blogging-arms simply don’t have enough sunshine. In Istanbul it is easy to take sun for granted, and that’s why the murky November days arrive as a surprise to any Istanbul dweller. There were times when I did not take sunshine for granted.

For my master degree I moved to Norway’s second largest town (can’t call it a city, sorry) - Bergen. Bergen boasts 360 days of rain each year. That’s no joke, my friends. My first dormitory arrangement was a room on a ground floor facing a slope with autumnal trees and lots of rain. At the school we had a changing room where the students were leaving their Gore-Tex jackets and pants they wore over their normal attire to get to school. In a nutshell, that’s why I love Norway: people care for practical things not for the looks (because they are already so good-looking?!), citizens buy local (all that Gore-Tex stuff was Norwegian), the living standard is high (those Norwegian brands cost a fortune), and people have trust in other people (mind you, your expensive jacket is still there after the days of public display).

You know how Orhan Pamuk nourishes the idea of huzun (longing) narrating about his Istanbul childhood. Clearly, Pamuk has never lived in Scandinavia, the motherland of huzun. Scandinavian huzun is about summer that never really reaches those latitudes leaving people to face the never ending rains, grey skies and overall dank being. Just like in India they know how to cope with monsoon or in Russia with extreme cold, Scandinavians know how to deal with rain and damp. I’ve already mentioned clothing, a game changer really. The other coping strategy is comfort food. No, I don’t mean the frozen pizzas many of my Norwegian corridor-mates used to favor over anything else. I mean pastry: Belgian-style waffles or Danish or muffins (there was nothing more comforting about my road trips in Norway than knowing that there will be a 7-Elleven on the way, and I can buy tall a chocolate-topping muffin there). I mean a lot of filtered coffee: Scandinavians are big on coffee, and while some say the folks up North don’t know anything about good coffee, Scandinavians were among the first to pioneer ethically-sourced and single-origin coffees. I also mean creamy soups.

Norwegians are big on creamy soups. Maybe it’s infantile, but a bowl of hot flavorful pure is terribly comforting and safe, especially when it rains.. I’ve discovered that you can study local soup culture in a foreign country by going to a local supermarket and checking out the shelf with the instant soup mixtures by Knorr: they always have the most popular local classics featured. Just like in Turkey you will get yayla çorbası or ezogelin, in Norway I could find cauliflower cream soup or mushroom cream soup. For the first couple of months in Norway I was swearing by these mixtures that you just needed to dump into some milk and simmer until the soup thickens. Then pour in my small thermos and take with me for a long day in school; that was still a way more attractive meal than the one canteen offered (I am pretty sure they used the same ready mixtures for their soups of the day). Well, we are taking about the years before the Scandinavian food revolution (Noma was still in workings back then).

It did not take me long to get tired of the packaged soup mixtures and to figure out that I can easily put one together from scratch. So I started with the known suspects of the cauliflower or mushrooms and then progressed to more advanced flavors such as broccoli and blue cheese. My friends presented me an immersion blender for birthday, and I was constantly turning smoothies for mornings (ah, my legendary smoothies, I am going to tell you all about them one day) and soups for the rest of the day. And then it started: I set a challenge for myself to cook a new dish every day, and while I have not written a book about it, as a result I had learned a tremendous lot about different cuisines, cooking techniques and ingredients that I was sourcing from the Asian and Middle Eastern shops in Bergen. That very way I got to meet the food of India or Turkey even before I went to live in those countries. Think how far a passion for a packages creamy soup can take you.

I have not made creamy soups in ages. My father who loves bold statement about other people’s food once proclaimed my creamy soups ” food for seniors”. Apparently, in his view your food has to give work to your jars and tooth, so your ingredients should come in chunks that still have a fair amount of crunch to them. I agree with him, but hate how his statement killed my affection for the creamy soups. Just as I think about one, my father’s words come to my mind, and I set the idea aside. But the truth is I still love creamy soups, however infantile they are.

This recipe inspired me to pick up a few seasonal ingredients at a market and stop by my spice shop for dry turmeric. I used to cook a lot with turmeric when I lived in India (ah, my stained fingers and sometimes nose) and was reminded of its goodness reading Robyn’s how-to on making a miracle tea to boost your immune system. Think about it: tons of medical benefits plus a lovely color to an otherwise dull pure of the winter produce. I loved how in her version of the soup Laura used nuts as a protein and crunch (hello, dad! Here is your jar workout). In other words, here is my version of the leek et al creamy soup with the gloomy photographs that I put together on a dull November day.

Celeriac, Leeks and Quince Creamy Soup

Inspired by this recipe from The First Mess

I use ghee because I’ve recently made some of the Black Sea butter and really love its nutty taste; feel free to replace with the regular butter / flavorful oil of your choice. Pick up soft quince for the soup; if you have got only hard astringent type, chop it twice as small or increase the cooking time: for the notes on choosing right quince, please, have a look here. You can boost the soup with a stock, however I enjoy the purity of flavor without any.

Serves 4

Prep time: 5 min
Cook time: 25 min
Total time: 30 min

Ingredients

2 tbsp ghee
1 medium celeriac (about 270 g), peeled
1/2 medium (Iranian) quince (about 100 g)
2 tbsp freshly squeezed orange juice
1 medium leek, white and green parts (about 180 g)
2 tsp freshly grated turmeric
1 tsp salt, and more to taste
5 cups boiling water (and more, if prefer thinner soup)

To serve:

50 g raw shelled hazelnuts
red pepper flakes
chopped celery leaves, roughly chopped
extra virgin olive oil

Directions

1. Cut vegetables: Cut celeriac into 1x1cm (0.4×0.4 inch) dices and immediately transfer in a mixing bowl and toss with the orange juice to prevent the celeriac from turning grey. Core the quince and chop into 1.5×1.5 cm (0.6×0.6 inch) dices. Toss in the orange juice along with the celeriac. Slice the leeks into 0.5 cm (0.2 inch) pieces.
2. Make soup: Melt the ghee in a medium size soup pot and saute the leeks for 3-4 minutes, or until just start softening. Then stir in the celeriac and quince. Season with the grated/ground turmeric and salt. Saute for 10 min stirring now and then. Pour in the boiling water and simmer covered on the low heat until the vegetables are fork-tender (about 10-15 min). Puree the soup with an immersion blender, adjust seasoning and the quantity of water, if needed.
3. Toast hazelnuts: Warm up a medium pan that can hold all the nuts arranged in one layer. Toss the nuts and roast on a medium heat shaking the pan every few minutes to make sure that nuts evenly roast to light brown color. As you shake the pan the hulls will start separating: you are done when the hazelnuts turned light brown and most of the hulls loosened up. Remove the nuts from the heat and let cool until you can handle them. Rub the hazelnuts between your palms pushing the hulls out. Sort the peeled nuts from hulls.
4. Serve: Pour the soup, garnish with the whole toasted hazelnuts, red pepper flakes, chopped celery leaves and a few sprinkles of extra virgin olive oil.