Easy Curried Pumpkin Soup

Many years ago, when I was a young working mother, I was invited to a ladies' luncheon -- a rare treat in my over-scheduled life. My hostess, also a crazed working mom, was smart enough to eschew the usual frou-frou luncheon fare like tea sandwiches and petits fours, instead opting for an easy, do-it-yourself soup, a dump-everything-in-the-pot mixture that goes into the oven and emerges ready to eat. That day, it transformed into a sophisticated, light entree that she served with a crunchy green salad and crusty bread. I was so blown away that I begged for the recipe, and I have made it many times in the years since. Until there were grandchildren at my holiday table (who wouldn't try curried anything, no matter what), my family has asked for this soup every Christmas Eve.

But why wait for the holidays? Serve a batch of this soup as soon as the leaves turn color in the autumn and pumpkins start showing up in the markets and farm stands. Its rich fragrance will fill the house and warm up any chilly evening.

Curried Pumpkin Soup

1 Medium onion, quartered
1 Quart chicken broth
1 1-pound can unseasoned pumpkin
1-1/2 teaspoons Madras curry powder, or to taste
1 Tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1/2 Pint whipping cream, scalded
Sour cream for garnish, optional

Put the onion and a small amount of stock in the blender, blend and pout into a Dutch oven. Add the rest of the chicken stock, pumpkin, curry powder and Worcestershire sauce, and mix thoroughly. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Cover pot and put into a cold oven. Set at 450 degrees and cook 35 minutes. Removed from the oven and add scalded whipping cream. Stir well, correct the seasonings and ladle into bowls. Top with a squiggle of  sour cream.

Makes 8 cups. This soup is even better the next day, so make enough for leftovers. My pals at the Ojai Beverage Company, who are really smart about wine, suggest pairing this with a well-chilled Gewurztraminer, and selected a 2009 vintage from Ventana in Monterey County. Described as "both floral and spicy in an off-dry style," it should be perfect.

Cold Plum Soup

Years ago, I had a Satsuma plum tree in my backyard that yielded an egregious amount of dark purple plums every August. Even with friends and neighbors helping to gather the bounty, I couldn’t keep up with the volume of fruit this one tree produced. So I started to collect plum recipes and learned to make everything with plums: chutney, coffee cake, cobblers, tarts, preserves, tatins, pies, jam, turnovers. 

But my favorite recipe was for a cold dessert soup that at first caused a stir of doubt in the house, but soon became a family favorite. Gathered around the patio table on a hot summer evening, we slurped bowls of this fruit potage, and smiled in gratitude at our little plum tree.

When I left that house, my first concern about moving into a just-built home with a dirt patch for a back yard, was how much I was going to miss those plums so I quickly planted a young Satsuma sapling and prayed for plums that first summer. Well, it took a few seasons for that little tree to get going, but now it too is laden every year. Even sizable branches have broken under the weight of the fruit, and still the fruit keeps coming.

This summer, the birds have beaten me to the harvest, pecking at the fruit at their peak of freshness and causing just enough damage to start the rot. It’s a daily battle, but I’m determined to salvage enough plums to make my favorite plum soup.

Cold Plum Potage

2 pounds purple plums (about 10), washed, stemmed, pitted, cut in quarters

2 cups water

2 Tablespoons orange juice, fresh or frozen

½ cup sugar

Pinch of salt

Pinch of ground nutmeg

1 large egg, beaten until light and foamy

Crème fraîche, or whipped cream

Thin slivers of orange peel for garnish

In a 2-quart saucepan, add plums, water, orange juice, sugar, salt and nutmeg. Bring mixture to a boil, lower flame and simmer 20-30 minutes until plums are soft. Adding in a little crème de cassis or red wine wouldn’t hurt. Cool. Purée mixture in the blender. Add egg and blend mixture thoroughly. Taste to correct sugar, and chill soup for several hours. Serve with a dollop of crème fraîche and garnish with orange peel.

Serves 6.

If your friends and family are reluctant to try it because they’ve never tasted a cold fruit soup before, tell them it’s a Scandinavian delicacy, which it is, and is the signature summer dessert at toney restaurants on the East Coast, which it is. Or tell them it is an adult smoothie, and serve it in glasss instead of a bowl. Either way, you’ll win them over once they’ve had a taste.

Cafe Whatever

I ventured back to Santa Cruz for the long weekend to spend some time with my family. There was much catching up to do: the grandkids had just started a new school year, my son had completed his first month on a new job, and my daughter-in-law, the veteran teacher, was back in the classroom. That, and the cool, foggy coastal climate gave me a welcome break from the scorching temps in Ojai. As always, we poked around town looking for new places to eat.

Like moths to a flame, we gravitated once again to Asana, that hole-in-the-wall eatery where I got hooked on their Lavender Love milkshake earlier this year. But we were dismayed to find that Asana is no more, replaced by a new restaurant named Cafe Gratitude, an organic vegan restaurant specializing in gourmet raw and cooked foods. Skeptical, we sat down and studied menus that were lengthy and somewhat difficult to decipher. Every dish is named after an affirmation, to wit, "I Am Transformed" is two  handmade corn tortillas with cashew cheese. The word "live" is used liberally in the menu, as in live sandwich, live spinach, or live cracker.

I ordered the "I Am Complete" and the server smiled and replied, "You are complete." And around the table it went: "I Am Transformed," "I Am Hearty,""I Am Elated," until it was laughable. Our little guy, a picky eater, whose only hope for an acceptable dinner hung on what was billed as macaroni and cheese, was devastated when the bowl that was set down in front of him contained slivers of raw zucchini topped with a cheese made from ground Brazil nuts. So much for "I Am Comforted." A strike was declared by both kids, so in desperation we ordered them mint chocolate chip milkshakes, only it wasn't ice cream and the chocolate chips were raw cacao, and the mint was actually a green vitamin-mineral concoction.

By the end of the evening, I think each of us was thinking, "I am Frazzled." For a first visit, the gratitude gig is fun, but on subsequent visits it would soon become annoying.

Started in 2004, Cafe Gratitude has grown to a collection of 4 restaurants in the San Francisco area, 1 in Los Angeles (where it is a mecca for the Hollywood set), and another couple tucked into Whole Foods stores in the Bay Area, all using organic produce from their farm in Vacaville, California. But there's more: books, DVDs, food supplements, clothing, classes, and food items, all available online. Limited to California locations now, the restaurant franchise is bound to spread across the country, and Whole Foods could be a catalyst. So watch for it. And get your groove on by repeating this affirmation: I Am Forewarned.