What does any of this have to do with soup?
In my cupboard sit many cans of corn. With the exception of tomatoes, I rarely buy anything in a can. This past year I have learned to live less independently, and more interdependently. A friend, realizing that I was having financial difficulties decided that I was her own little charity project. Ouch. Every so often she would bring me a small bag of groceries; a motley mix of vegetables, fruit and canned goods. Guess what? I have learned that it is not always necessary to be strong and independent. I have learned to graciously accept cans of corn. Every grocery bag was my own little Food Network challenge. Really, when you think about it, "what's for dinner?" has been a food battle that has gone on for thousands of years.
I parked a couple of cans of corn on my kitchen table. I like to set up my ingredients in front of me for inspiration. I had nothing really, but cans of corn and the vague idea of making corn chowder. The cans were sitting behind a couple of stale chunks of focaccia bread that I had made, which I had planned to turn into bread crumbs.
I was making a sandwich for lunch, when my husband Bean (not his real name, but a nickname of his that he said I could use in lieu of his real name) on the way out of the kitchen door said "Cool! Corn chowder thickened with bread crumbs!". Brilliant! I have seen many Italian recipes using stale bread as a thickening agent. I finished making my sandwich and turned on the TV which was airing a travel show about Chimayo, New Mexico.
Years ago, Bean and I travelled in Northern New Mexico. It is an area rich in history, art, scenery and wonderful food. Part of the vacation was spent camping in the desert and hiking the canyons. We travelled through the mountains in search of the old Spanish churches. The weather was gorgeous. It was in October, when the nights are cold and the days are warm. The smoky aroma around Chimayo was incredible. The chiles were being harvested. Some of the chiles were being strung together into ristras to dry, while others were being roasted in outdoor ovens or over fires. The aroma is unforgettable: a heady mixture of spicy, sweet and earthy notes. Chimayo chiles are botanically the same native chiles that grow throughout Northern New Mexico, but many think that they have their own distinctive flavor.
There is an old adobe church in Chimayo, El Santuario Del Chimayo. Built on what is considered sacred ground, the church attracts pilgrims from all over. The faithful pilgrims leave crutches no longer needed at the church, as well as pictures of loved one, letters and rosaries. Many take with them what is considered holy dirt dug from a hole in the church's floor. The hole needs to be constantly filled with new dirt, a practice that does not seem to bother most. The new dirt becomes blessed for future pilgrims.
Watching the program brought back a flood of memories. I thought of the wonderful time spent with Bean exploring the area. I also thought of the countless days spent in the last year and a half wondering if my husband would get to live another day, to reach another birthday. Would he ever go on another trip beyond home and hospital? By now I was excited to get back to my soup making. I was going to try to capture the smoky sweet and spicy flavor of the Chimayo chiles. I was going to think about faith.
Keep the Faith Corn Soup (makes about 3 servings)
- 1/2 cup of diced onions
- 4 small cloves of garlic
- 1/4 of a large sweet red pepper, roughly chopped
- 1 can of corn, drained
- 3 cups of chicken stock
- 1/2 cup of stale bread chunks
- bay leaf, smoked paprika, dried chile pequin, black pepper, salt, lime juice, lime zest, and thinly sliced jalapeno
Stale bread makes something magical happen in the soup. The texture becomes rich and velvety without the addition of any cream. The amount of stock and spices need to be adjusted to suit individual tastes. The lime juice and zest add a nice bright note to the soup.
For this bowl of soup, I used the same basic recipe, but used chipotles instead of the sweet red pepper, chile pequin and paprika, and cooked the soup with cilantro stems and leaves. For the garnish, I grated Mexican chocolate. Yes - chocolate! I happened to have some Mexican chocolate on the counter to make a mug of hot chocolate when I came in from shovelling snow. Bean asked me what spice I used that changed color and then melted away. Forget what your parents told you - Play with your food! At least when cooking!
