I don’t think my dad can stand it anymore. I think he might stop coming for dinner. My kids are complaining. I just need one last brothy fennel scented bowl and I might be able to stop for awhile…
I hope you’re feeling smug. You have stock in the fridge and the freezer now. Now the soup will be a snap. One thing about making stock is that it slips so easily into the rest of the day – especially if you’re fearless about leaving the barely bubbling pot on low heat and getting on with other things. Although I like all the small building blocks – slicing an onion is an exercise in thoughtful efficiency, smashing every clove in a head of garlic can be cathartic. The scent of fennel seeds crushed under a pestle – and I’m in Italy. There is nothing monumental about any of these tasks but the result is there simmering on the stove. If all you ever do is open a box of stock, all you get is that funky boxy chicken smell.
The work on Day Two is minor. You set the beans to soak late in the day after the dishes are done, your kids are asleep and you are about to open a good book. At least that is what happens to me every single time. I get into bed at about 11:30 PM with my book, something I’ve been dying to read all day, and then suddenly I remember, I have to soak the beans! So I haul myself out of a warm bed, through the cold house, and downstairs to dump 1 1/2 cups of cannellini beans in the biggest Pyrex bowl and cover them generously with water. Then I go back to my book. That’s the end of Day Two. See what I mean? A four year old could do it – if he could stay up that late.
In the morning, it’s good to start before anyone else is awake. Outside is still darkly grey, but I flick on the light and the kitchen glows like a lantern. Drain the beans and put them in a large pot. Then cover them with 2 inches of water. Add a few smashed cloves of garlic. 24 peppercorns (don’t ask me why 24 – I read it in some recipe somewhere a long time ago and it just stuck) and bay in a large mesh ball. Start the pot to boil. When it does, lower the heat and leave to slowly simmer. I make a cup of coffee and go with my mug back to bed. I can laze around with my book for around 45 minutes then it’s probably time to turn off the stove. Taste a bean and see if it is soft – not mushy though – and nearly ready to eat. Now it is time to salt – if you salt at the beginning, the skins will be tough. Add salt to the water until it is quite salty – at least 2 tbsp. Turn off the heat. Let the beans sit there in the cooking liquid until you’re ready for them. For me this could take at least until lunchtime.
Kale and Cannellini Bean Soup with Fennel, (Finally!)
- 8 cups homemade chicken stock
- 1 red onion
- 1 generous pinch of red chili flakes
- 3 carrots
- 3 celery stalks
- 1 fennel bulb
- 1 bunch of kale
- 4 cloves of garlic
- 4 canned plum tomatoes
- the cooked cannellini beans, drained
- 1 tsp fennel, freshly ground in a mortar and pestle or in a clean coffee grinder
- the juice from one lemon
- sea salt and pepper
- grated parmesan
- green spicy olive oil
- homemade croutons or toast with olive oil and garlic
Ok – the rest is quick. Check it out: Chop the onion.
See how I sliced the onion in half from top to bottom, then made long parallel cuts toward the root. After that it is very simple to slice thin perpendicular cuts to get perfect small dice. Cutting an onion this way is much faster than randomly chopping into tiny pieces.
Peel, then chop the carrots:
Trim then slice the celery:
Trim and core the fennel, slice into 1/4″ slices – they should look like long quarter moons.
Wash and remove the ribs of the kale. Slice into ribbons.
Take a large heavy bottomed soup pot (I use a 7 1/2 qt. enameled cast iron) and heat over medium heat.
Add 1/3 c. olive oil, the chopped onion and 1 tsp. chili flakes. Stir thoroughly and lower heat. Cover. Simmer for 10 minutes stirring occasionally.
Add the carrots and celery. Raise the heat to medium-high. Stir and cook with the lid off for 5 minutes.
Add the chopped garlic , ground fennel and sliced fennel. Cook for two minutes.
Add the tomato. Cook for 2 minutes.
Taste for salt and pepper. If you decided not to salt the stock, be sure that the vegetables are salted until they taste deliciously but not too salty.
Add the beans, then stock. Bring the soup to a simmer. Cook for 15 minutes. Add lemon juice to taste and taste again for salt and pepper. I like the lemon subtle. The juice from one small lemon should be plenty – this is not lemon soup.
While the soup simmers, bring a medium pot of water to the boil. Add a tbsp of salt and blanch the kale for 3 minutes. Drain and rinse with cold water.
If I were you, here’s what I’d do. (I am always guilty of overselling – sigh. I do hope you like this!) If you have one, set a wide soup plate on the counter. Pour a glass of wine and leave it on the table where you plan to eat so that the flavors open up. Toast a piece of rustic bread by brushing it with olive oil and running it under the broiler. Don’t burn it and do toast both sides – it should be golden and crisp on the outside and almost creamy inside. Peel a clove of garlic and cut it in half. Rub the cut half over one side of the toast and put it in the soup plate. A handful of blanched kale goes on the toast. Ladle soup over toast and kale until the bowl is brimming. Drizzle a tablespoon of pungent green olive oil over the top and grate parmesan cheese lightly over all of it. Take the soup plate and go sit with the glass of wine. Take a deep breath – the fennel and garlic are the most forward. Then the warm scent of chicken stock. Pale and yielding cannellini beans contrast with deep green chewy kale. Something about the toast pushes me over the edge. Taste it. White Bean and Kale Soup is grown-up and sophisticated yet so mild and comforting it could be child’s food.
There you have it. My most favorite meal. (at the moment)