Warmth and Comfort in the Darkness

The air is crisp and full of the new possibilities that autumn and her harvest bring.  When I go outside, I can smell the colorful leaves that pass by my feet, dry and fragrant.  One of my absolute favorite scents is burning leaves:  while I'd prefer that people compost their leaves, the smell is intoxicating.  I'd wear is as a perfume if someone made it.

Along with this crisp air comes darkness:  daylight savings time has come upon us, the shock of night falling before dinnertime is something that I never get over.  I'm the sort of person that gets a bit giddy around summer solstice, when it's light out until almost 9:00.  This sort of darkness makes me crave pajamas and a bowl of something warm in my hands, something where I can still feel the steam as it comes up to my face.

That's when the beauty of soup comes in.  My blender definitely gets used in the winter, its glass jar becoming suddenly warm as I pour whatever mixture of steaming hot veggies or legumes into it.  On Sunday, when we were first greeted this season with darkness at 4:45, I decided soup was in order.  Andrew and I just came back from an adventure in Damariscotta, a small coastal town, where, upon entering, you are informed that you are coming upon a village.  And a seaside village it is, with a lovely bookstore that conveniently is attached to a place to get green tea. And I was sipping some of my own tea in my kitchen at home when I was thinking up what sort of soup to make. We've had some dried green split peas in a mason jar on our pantry shelf for months, and I decided now was the right time to use those.  Thick and hearty was what I was going for -- I mean, you can't go wrong with pea soup for something filling when people use the soup to describe thickness.  We enjoyed it, mixed with kale, broccoli, mushrooms, and local seaweed that we picked up earlier that day at the co-op. 

I made a little extra, and was glad that I did when I was running a little behind the next morning.  It was just as delightful warmed up the second time-- akin to a porridge, something Goldilocks would eat, perhaps, if she couldn't get her fix from the Bears...this soup is "just right"

Just Right Split Pea Soup

• 1 cup dried split peas
• 2 cups water
• 1 onion, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, smashed
• 5 white button mushrooms, chopped roughly
• 4 generous handfuls of kale
• 2 cups broccoli
• 1/2 cup arame seaweed
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon cardamom
• 1/2 teaspoon coriander
• 1 teaspoon turmeric
• a pinch of cayenne
• 1/2 teaspoon paprika

In a large sauce pan or soup pot, bring the 2 cups of water to a boil.  Add in the split peas, turn the heat down to medium, and cover.  Let cook for 45 minutes, or until the peas are tender.  While the peas are cooking, in a separate skillet or stir-fry pan, add a splash of water and the onions.  Cook for 5 minutes, or until the onions are softened a bit.  Add in the other veggies and garlic. Cover and let cook until the vegetables are soft, and then letting them linger on the warm broiler on the stove until the peas are done.  When the peas are perfect, carefully pour them into the blender.  You may add an additional clove of smashed garlic here for a nice flavor, if you're okay with that sort of flavor.  Blend until smooth, adding more water if needed.  Pour the puree back into the pot, and add the vegetables, stirring things around and adding the spices and salt.  Turn the heat back on to medium and let everything warm up and soak in the spices for a bit.  I've been adding spices in at the end lately to get the full flavor out of them.  Ladle into bowls, topping with a drizzle of olive oil, and some cheese if you're feeling like some dairy.  Serves 2, plus a little extra for the next morning.  Hopefully this soup helps you embrace the darkness and stay warm as winter approaches.