My Mother's Chicken and Rice Soup

So, the other day? I got my rent bill for August from my landlord. August. The last month of summer, is upon us. And although I'm pretty much done with the humidity and the heat and (I'm sorry to say) the summer tourists (don't worry, summer tourists, I don't hate you or anything), I'm not really ready to let summer go. Yet here I am with the kind of comfort food you might better expect in February. Except, I don't know. There's something really light about this soup, actually, something that makes is acceptable in summer (and winter, and fall and year-round) and not only because it's the chicken soup I grew up with.

It's a soup that just kind of tastes, well, clean. And unmuddled. I personally prefer the rice to noodles hands down. And there's not a lot of competing flavors to weigh it down. It's chicken breasts (or other parts) poached in water and swimming with rice and celery, and a little bouillon (which I use for pretty much nothing else, but it's perfect here) and salt and pepper. It sounds simple because it is. But in my experience, the simple ones are almost always the best. You can tell my mom gave me the recipe, because she always intersperses ingredients with instructions, which is exactly how the recipe is written on her old card. And of course, they always end with 'call mom with any questions.'

My Mother's Chicken and Rice Soup

Chicken Breasts with bones and skin (4-5)

water to fill a dutch oven and cover chicken - not to top, it does simmer

Salt and Pepper

2 onions, chopped

stalks of celery, chopped (6 or so or as many as you like)

cook above until chicken is tender about 1 hour - it will cook some more (below)

remove chicken from pot and remove chicken from bone into pieces

add chicken pieces to pot

add "better than chicken bouillon" about 3-4 tsp

add 1 cup of rice (i use minute rice)

simmer another 1/2 hour

this freezes well - put into smaller containers and take out of freezer as needed

call mom with any questions

David Lebovitz's machine free ice cream with Thomas Keller's Truffled Honey

I wish I could tell this story in the first person, because then it would be all about how I managed to finagle a ticket to a gala dinner with Thomas Keller, prepared by Thomas Keller, filled with truffles flown into New York by Thomas Keller, and featuring Thomas Keller as the guest of honor. But alas. It wasn't me. My high school best friend, on the other hand, was actually in attendance at said gala dinner held in June at Keller's NYC restaurant Per Se.

Evidently, when Keller throws a party, he sprinkles magical truffles on pretty much everything. Then he sends his guests home with a pretty substantial wooden box, embossed with 'Per Se' over the top, and brimming with keepsakes from what must have been an incredibly memorable night. I have it on good authority that my friend's boyfriend has added it to a totally non-creepy shrine to the three-star chef that also features signed copies of two of Keller's books. Included in the box was a small jar of truffle honey and a recipe for vanilla bean ice cream made without a machine. Keller recommended that the truffle honey be used as a topping for an ice cream sundae which should also include shaved chocolate. So when I was at home in Denver, E and I decided to take his recommendation. But. E couldn't find her ice cream recipe, and by that I mean, she couldn't find the recipe Thomas Keller had included. I think you can imagine my face at the time.

Enter David Lebovitz. Now, maybe Keller's ice cream recipe is even better, somehow richer, smoother, silkier, even more redolent of vanilla. But I doubt it. This was my first experience with one of Lebovitz's recipes, since I still don't have an ice cream maker (I know, it's bad. I'm saving up credit card points as we speak). But you don't even need one with his method. And kissed with a bit of truffle honey and a sprinkling of shaved chocolate? Keller was right. And we have Lebovitz to thank.

I won't bother rewriting everything David Lebovitz has already explained (especially because I didn't actually make the ice cream. Great job, E!). I'll send you to his blog instead, where you can find instructions on making ice cream without a machine here, and his platonic ideal of vanilla ice cream here. I can't tell you where to get truffle honey like we had, with little flecks of black truffle floating around in the bottle. But if you ever find it, send me some, too.

Avocado Gazpacho

When I was in Denver last week, my best high school friend E and I indulged in an afternoon of cooking so that we could then indulge in an evening of eating. Great activities, both. We both wanted gazpacho, but she was more interested in an avocado version that suggested you replace the four tomatoes with an equal number of avocado. I was a little worried, with this soup, that it would end up being a glorified guacamole, so we compromised and kept some of the tomatoes while adding fewer avocados.

It's definitely a soup and not a dip, and a version of gazpacho that's particularly good if you haven't quite gotten to that point in summer when the freshest, juiciest, most perfect tomatoes finally become available. This is a soup for those B-lister fruits. I added lemon juice with abandon, but you should probably be a little more careful, since this version came out far too lemony. So perhaps start with the juice of half a lemon and add more during the seasoning and correcting phase right at the end.

Avocado Gazpacho
Adapted from Janet Mendel's Cooking in Spain

3 slices bread, crusts removed, soaked in water
2 large ripe tomatoes
2 avocados
1 orange bell pepper (any color)
1/2 cucumber
1/2 onion
2 cloves garlic
4 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
Juice of 1 lemon (don't add it all at once, start out slow and add more at the end if you need it)
1-2 cups water

Puree the vegetables (all should be chopped) in a blender then transfer to a bowl. Squeeze the water from the bread and wizz that in the blender, then add the oil, and blend again. Then add the salt, turmeric and lemon juice. Put some of the vegetable puree back into the blender and blend it together, then add the mixture in the blender to the vegetable puree in the bowl. Stir in as much of the water as you want to reach your preferred consistency. Correct the seasoning and chill before serving.

Pappardelle with Zucchini Ribbons

Why hello there! I know it's been a while. I thought I could slip out quickly without much notice, but one week at home in Colorado turned into two when I discovered that I really didn't want to leave. I mean, come on. With a heatwave in NYC, and beautiful weather in Denver, with good friends to cook with and huge kitchens to do it in, I couldn't tear myself away. So it's been a while. But I'm back with a few things to share.

This is the first, it's a recipe that came together in a perfect moment of synergy. My high school best friend E and I made a beautiful meal one night, which we devoured sitting on her back porch at dusk, looking out over a yard that reminded me of a private little key garden. The idea was hers, to shave thin strips of raw zucchini into a bowl of cooked pappardelle, the shape of the zucchini ribbons akin to the wide, flat noodles. She did the shaving with a vegetable peeler while I did the mixing of the vinaigrette sauce. It took only minutes and, perhaps because of the company, or maybe because of the setting, it was one of the most delicious pasta dishes I've had. Fresh, and light and simple.

Pappardelle with Zucchini Ribbons

Get your pasta water boiling right away. Then mix the ingredients for the vinaigrette. Combine:

2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
Juice of one lemon
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
salt and pepper to taste
Enough olive oil to suit your taste and coat the pasta

Whisk all of these together and set aside.

For the pasta and zucchini:
1 package pappardelle pasta
1 tomato chopped
2 zucchinis, peeled into ribbons using a vegetable peeler

Cook the pappardelle pasta according to package directions, and combine with the tomato and the zucchini ribbons. Toss with the vinaigrette while the pasta is still warm. Allow to come to room temperature before serving.