The robust, earthy flavors of this soup qualify it as a special winter elixir. I usually use a rich beef broth for the base, but I didn't have any beef broth handy. What I did have was turkey broth--lots and lots of turkey broth.
There is nothing difficult about this soup as long as you have the mushrooms, the barley and maybe an onion. We had perhaps a half-pound of mushrooms--creminis and shitakes--left over from the mushroom pate my wife made for a recent cocktail buffet. The barley is a pantry staple around here. And it turned out I only had half an onion, but lots of shallots. So I substituted three or four shallots for the missing onion half.
In your largest cast-iron skillet, saute about four cups of mushrooms cut into 1/4-inch slices. I like to start the mushrooms in a smoking-hot skillet to brown them a little, then turn the heat down to finish cooking. They will soak up lots of extra-virgin olive oil, so don't be afraid to add more. It will just make the soup that much richer. Season aggressively with salt and pepper.
Meanwhile, in a heavy pot or Dutch oven, saute the onion (or shallots), cut into medium dice, and three or four cloves of garlic, thinly sliced, with about 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil. Season with salt to draw the juices out. In a saucepan, cook 1 cup pearled barley with 2 cups turkey stock (or substitute beef or chicken stock) seasoned with salt.
Naturally, these three items will cook at different rates, so time it how you please. (Since the barley soaks up so much stock, I cook it separately.) You just want the onions in the soup pot soft, then you can add the sauteed mushrooms and the cooked barley and finally 8 cups stock of your choice. Add 1/4 cup sherry and cook another 20 minutes or so over low heat just to infuse the soup with the flavor of the mushrooms and the sherry. The soup will be even better made a day ahead.
Serve hot with a salad from the garden and a slice of sourdough bread.
Assorted leftovers from the fridge, constituting a vegetarian feast:
It's been a race to get my Pickling Powerpoint ready for presentation at the local historical society this morning. Lots of pickling and photos of pickles. I think we have enough pickles to last us through the winter. Some of the best pickles are the easiest, such as these Middle Eastern-style pickled turnips with beets. They simply marinate in a big jar with a vinegar brine, taking on a pinkish hue from the beets harvested from our garden. We brought some of these pickled turnips to a recent presidential debate party and everyone fell for them--even those who normally don't like turnips. (Well, they hardly taste like turnips after they've pickled.)
Some non-traditional pickles fall into the category of "quick." These fresh chunks of pineapple are tossed with mint leaves, then submerged in a brine made with cider vinegar, brown sugar, cinnamon and fresh cranberries. They can be eaten almost immediately. Pack them into pint jars and stash in the fridge. They'd be a great condiment for the next pork roast, no?
To demonstrate the classic method of pickling with alcohol, I made these pears preserved in Calvados. I have fond memories of bicycling through Normandy (a lifetime ago, it seems) where everything is made of apples, from the crepes to the cider to the brandy. Calvados is highly refined. Another local branch water--chouchen--is sweet and extremely potent. I'll be saving these sultry looking pears for a special occasion, perhaps a holiday dessert buffet.
These are red onions drenched in a brine of vinegar, chipotle en adobo, garlic, orange zest and mescal. Very easily assembled, this condiment is ready to consume the next day but will keep indefinitely in the refrigerator. I see it in a taco stuffed with pork carnitas, or perhaps on the next barbecue sandwich.
These pickled mushrooms remind me of our wedding, back in the last century. My wife and I made most of the food ourselves--mostly pickles, cheeses and other preserved foods that we were able to start weeks ahead, then present on a grand buffet with a basket of assorted breads. It was just the thing for a backyard October feast.
When you are growing your own food--sometimes more than you can possibly consume--pickling presents itself as a vital option. We had four jalapeno plants that produced an abundance of peppers. I recently pulled the plants to create a new garlic bed and found myself looking at two pints worth of peppers. Preserved in a vinegar brine, they will make a nice condiment for spicy foods.
Finally, I am occasionally reminded that you can pickle almost anything, including meats and seafood. Pickled pig's feet, corned beef, pickled herring and of coarse gravlax, or pickled salmon.
Leftovers: sweet potato galette, greens and sauteed mushrooms.
The robust, earthy flavors of this soup qualify it as a special winter elixir. I usually use a rich beef broth for the base, but I didn't have any beef broth handy. What I did have was turkey broth--lots and lots of turkey broth.
When I appeared before the Garden Club of Annapolis last week the misstress of ceremonies by way of introduction ticked off some of the bullet points in my bio: Former newspaper reporter, caterer, personal chef, gardener, teacher.
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