Starter

Soft shell crabs are blue crabs that have shed their hard shells. But they are soft for only a very short amount of time; in another six to eight hours, if left in the water, their hard shells re-form. Their season is also brief, depending on the region. In the cold waters of the Chesapeake Bay (shared by Maryland and Virginia)—the most famous region for blue crabs—they are available only in the spring; those from the warmer waters of the Gulf of Mexico may be harvested for longer periods but in much smaller numbers. In parts of Asia, where there is a high demand, crabs have become available year-round.

Consommer means “to accomplish” or “to finish” in French, and consommé is indeed a “finished” stock. (In a culinary context, one could say that to make a consommé is to bring out in full all of the flavors.) What gives consommé its purity and clarity is a bit of culinary magic: Egg whites (combined with mirepoix and ground meat) coagulate in the soup and rise to the top (forming a “raft”), drawing up any impurities that would otherwise cloud the stock. This mixture also infuses the broth with deeper flavor, as does an onion brûlé (or charred onion), which imparts deeper color to the broth. After an hour or two of simmering, the raft is also discarded, leaving behind a clear, intense broth. Consommé can be served either hot or cold, usually garnished in some way or another (there are literally hundreds employed in formal French cuisine); one of the more common embellishments is vegetables cut into julienne or brunoise (page 14), such as the blanched carrot and leek shown here.

This soup is best made with farm-fresh peas, but you can substitute a ten-ounce package of frozen peas in a pinch. Since spinach and peas cook in such a short amount of time, do not add them to the pot until the stock has reached a boil. This soup is finished with lemon juice rather than cream or buttermilk. For an elegant presentation, garnish the soup with Frico (page 75).

To intensify the flavor of the squash, you can roast it before simmering in the soup: Halve squash lengthwise and scoop out seeds, then season squash halves with salt and pepper; place cut sides down on a lightly oiled baking sheet and roast in a 400°F oven until tender when pierced with a knife, about 30 minutes. Scoop the squash from the skins and discard skins, then proceed with the recipe, simmering in stock for 8 to 10 minutes, to let flavors meld.

Perhaps the best known cold pureed soup, vichyssoise is a simple puree of potato and leeks that is traditionally enriched with cream; adding a bit of buttermilk along with the cream gives this version a pleasant tangy flavor. Here, leeks serve as both an aromatic, replacing the onion, as well as one of the base vegetables. Garlic is typically not used. The amount of stock or water called for is also reduced, since both cream and buttermilk are added. If making the soup for company, buy an extra leek to prepare the Leek Frisée (page 75) for the garnish.

Water is particularly good in this variation, creating a soup with a pure, clear taste. Adding fresh ginger to the aromatics is an example of a secondary flavoring component that pairs well with the base vegetable—in this case, carrot. Don’t omit the garlic, since it adds another flavor component (and goes well with ginger). Garnish each cup of soup with a sprig of crisp watercress.

Tomatoes contain a lot of water, so the soup calls for less stock than other pureed soups. Adding cream will lend body, but the soup is refreshing without it. Herbed Croutons (page 75) make a perfect garnish.

The onion can be substituted with one leek or two large shallots (this is true for the variations, too) and the spinach with other leafy greens, such as chard, kale, watercress, or sorrel. For a soup with brighter color, the leafy greens are added in the last five minutes of cooking, just so they are given a chance to wilt.

Spinach and other greens (such as watercress or sorrel) should be blanched and then squeezed to remove excess liquid; blanching helps to set their color and squeezing afterwards keeps the soup from being watered down. After that, the spinach does not require extra cooking, making this version the quickest of the cream soups.

Mushrooms need to be cooked briefly to remove some of their liquid—and concentrate their flavor—before being simmered in the stock. For added flavor, sherry is used to deglaze the pan.

Broccoli is used here to demonstrate the basic method for making a velouté-based soup; cauliflower can be easily substituted for the broccoli, resulting in a soup that is creamy in color and texture. Or use asparagus: Cut off the tips and blanch to use as a garnish, then trim the tough ends of the stalks before cutting into 1-inch pieces. Proceed with the recipe as written, cooking the stalks for 5 to 8 minutes. For any of these, simply replace the stock with an equal amount of whole milk to make a béchamel-based soup.

The simplicity of miso soup belies its significance to Japanese cuisine, where it is a common course for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It is ubiquitous on Japanese restaurant menus here in the United States, but miso soup is so uncomplicated to prepare that any home cook can make it. Variations are numerous, from the type of miso to the addition of vegetables, such as mushrooms or spinach, or other ingredients, such as tofu. Miso, or fermented soybean paste, is a staple of Japanese cooking. Depending on the amount of salt and koji (the mold used in the fermentation process) used, miso varies in color, flavor, and texture. Lighter versions, such as the white miso called for here, have a mild flavor and lower salt content; they are best reserved for delicate soups and sauces. The pronounced flavor of darker varieties (which include reddish-brown and dark-brown pastes) is better for more robust dishes. Shinshu miso, an all-purpose paste with a golden color and salty but mellow taste, would be a fine substitute for the white miso in this recipe. Wakame is another type of seaweed widely used in Japanese cookery, most often in soups and simmered dishes. It is available fresh or dried; to rehydrate dried wakame, soak in warm water for 20 minutes and drain before using.

Vegetable stock is an essential ingredient in many vegetarian soups, but it also provides incomparable flavor to many well-loved vegetable (but not necessarily meat-free) soups such as this one. Minestrone has become so familiar in the American kitchen that it might be easy to forget its Italian origins. But the name—minestre is the word for soup, while the suffix (-one) indicates bigness—hints at its universal appeal as a simple pantry-based soup that is also hearty and substantial. The foundation of flavor, called a soffritto, is a common element in soup-making: a trio of celery, carrots, and onion is sautéed first, then stock and more vegetables are added and slowly simmered to coax out their flavors. Beans are what distinguish minestrone from other vegetable soups; the type varies by region, as does the addition (if any) of pasta or rice (this version has neither). The beans are also what give the soup such heft, making it a good option for a meatless one-pot dish (if you leave out the prosciutto) that can stand as the centerpiece of any casual dinner. The beans need to soak overnight in the refrigerator, so plan accordingly. Then they need to boil for at least a half hour, so use that time to prepare the rest of the ingredients for the soffritto and soup.

The most well-known pea soups are made with green split peas and flavored with pork, but this lively vegetarian version features split peas and Indian seasonings. Though the end result tastes remarkably different from the classic, the method for making any split pea soup is virtually the same; you start by building a flavor base with sautéed aromatics, then add peas and water and cook until the peas fall apart. For split pea soup with ham, you would add a ham hock to the pot along with the peas, but for this version, spices are fried at the end and stirred into the soup to finish—a technique borrowed from many classic Indian dishes.

One of the best reasons to make your own basic brown stock is that it means French onion soup from scratch is within easy reach. (You can also make the soup with white beef stock, page 42.) Like many other bistro classics, French onion soup has humble origins as a staple of thrifty households, where a pot of stock—itself born of frugality—was the foundation for many family meals. Even those with limited resources could make soupe a l’oignon since it calls for little else: pounds of inexpensive and readily available onions, a crusty baguette (providing a way to use up day-old bread), and a chunk of sharp Gruyère cheese, grated to turn a little into a lot. Because there are so few components, each one is enhanced in some way to contribute to the final dish. The homemade stock provides both color and robust taste, as well as ensuring a silky consistency. Caramelizing the onions gives them a wonderful sweetness (and more dark brown color). Toasted bread adds a textural note, while gratinéed cheese introduces another pleasing component. Similar to the burnt-sugar shell atop crème brûlée, the molten, golden crown invites tucking into with a spoon. This recipe can be halved, but since the soup freezes well, it is worth making the full amount.

Unlike other chicken soups that begin with water, this Mexican version starts with chicken stock; the resulting broth is richer and more complex than for basic chicken soup (page 43), since stock will impart flavor to (and be fortified by) the chicken. To make the soup, a whole chicken is simmered in chicken stock, which is then strained and combined with a fiery puree of dried chiles, charred tomatoes, and sautéed onion and garlic. Before being pureed, the chiles are toasted in a dry skillet to enhance their smokiness, then soaked in water to soften, a process that is widely used in Mexican cooking as a building block for many types of dishes (this is comparable to the way spices are toasted in Indian cooking as a flavor-building component for masalas and curry pastes). What distinguishes tortilla soup is the way it is served, since the garnishes are essential to the overall flavor; plus, they are incorporated at the table—not in the kitchen—so that each guest has a hand in creating and customizing the final dish. The garnishes suggested below are traditional and offer a nice balance of taste and texture, but sliced jalapeños (seeded for less heat) or radishes, diced fresh tomatoes, or other types of cheese (such as queso fresco or queso blanco) are also authentic, as is a dollop of crema (Mexican sour cream) or sour cream.

If soup-making is an indication of a cook’s talents, chicken soup is the truest test, since the soup should ideally offer warmth and nourishment as well as flavor. It is, after all, the ultimate comfort food. Once you’ve committed this basic soup technique to memory, the possibilities for variations—and other meals—are limitless. Making the soup is essentially a form of poaching chicken in an aromatic broth. The chicken should always be just covered with liquid—in this case, water—which should remain at a gentle simmer. Skimming the surface is critical to the soup’s success, since the impurities from the chicken would cause the broth to become cloudy. Straining out the aromatics will also help produce a cleaner broth; the vegetables will have become very soft and lost much of their individual flavors by this time, so it is necessary to replenish them with “garnish” vegetables, added at the end. The variations below provide flavorful alternatives to the basic soup recipe—one with matzo balls and the other with springtime vegetables, including green beans, peas, and watercress.