Fall Vegetable Soup

I think autumn in Michigan is really divided into two seasons: “early fall” and “deep fall.” Early fall consists of sunny days with bright blue skies, crisp breezes, and the beginning of Michigan’s stunning autumn scenery: reds, golds, bright oranges. The leaves hang onto the trees with all their color (as long as the wind lets them) and there are 80-degree days that will trick you into thinking it’s really still summer, even though the 50-degree nights belie that notion. Deep fall means there are more and more leaves on the ground than on the trees, you can see your breath in the mornings, and there’s a chill in the air that speaks of cold and snow coming.

We’ve had a long early fall this year, but finally, this week we turned the corner into deep fall. I knew the change had come Thursday when I stepped out my door into the still-dark of early morning and the touch of sharp cold in the air stung my nostrils and went right through my denim jacket. I ran back inside for a scarf.

Deep fall makes me feel choked up, just a little. I think it’s an innate mourning of the end of summer and the knowledge that this final, beautiful season of growing things goes by so quickly – before we know it, we’re knee-deep in snow here, and it’s a long haul until spring.

So Friday afternoon, in celebration of the arrival of deep fall, I made soup and bread. My sister suggested vegetable soup a few weeks ago when we were at the farmers’ market, and the idea stayed in the back of my mind, like it was just waiting for the right day. I’ve also been saving a recipe for oatmeal bread, waiting for the same kind of day, when the smell of bread rising on the back of a warm stove would be a perfect accompaniment to the chill in the air.

We ate the soup and bread Friday night, when Eli got home from the first day of bow season. He shot an 11-point buck that morning, by the way. Who needs a whole season of hunting to fill the freezer with venison? Not him, apparently. Anyway, he was tired from a long day of tracking the wounded deer, dragging it through the woods, and cleaning it in preparation for processing. I’m not sure if it was the exhaustion, or if the soup was just that good, but he didn’t say a word about the fact that he was eating a meatless dinner.

I had it again for lunch on Saturday with Eli’s nieces, Leah and Maggey, who came over to spend the day with me. It warmed us up after an afternoon of playing at the park near my house. Leah, who is a major veggie-lover, cleaned her bowl.

I did a little homework before making this, my first-ever pot of vegetable soup (weird, huh, that I’ve never made vegetable soup before?). I like spicy soups, rich soups like Pumpkin Curry and French Onion, that warm your palate as well as your belly, but vegetable soup has always seemed so…mundane. Anyway, I sought out a variety of recipes because I was determined that my vegetable soup would not be boring, and came to the conclusion that the secret to a really flavorful vegetable soup is the broth, and that it should contain three things: good stock, canned tomatoes in juice, and white wine.

The heartiness of the soup will depend on the variety and kinds of vegetables you put in it. I had a fridge full of veggies from my farm share and my latest visit to the farmers’ market, as well as a plethora of root vegetables I’ve been hoarding since spring. I’m going to give you the recipe with exactly what I used, but I think you can use whatever you have around. That said, I’d stick to fresh or frozen veggies, and I’d shoot for a variety of colors in your soup, which will mean the greatest variety of nutrients (it will also look more appealing, and hey, we want our food to look good, right?). I’d include a starchy vegetable (I used rutabagas, but you could use potatoes or squash instead). I’d include some kind of leaf as well – cabbage or kale or greens, chopped small so they will fit onto a soup spoon – and some kind of legume for protein. I had a bag of green and yellow lentils hanging out in my cupboard, and I tossed those in, but canned beans, like cannellini, would work well.

You could also toss in some rice or pasta if you like that idea. I didn’t do that, because I felt like what I had was enough, but I’m sure it would be a great addition.

This made a full pot of soup, and I froze what we didn’t eat in quart-size bags. I’ll pull it out for lunches later on.

I’ve been eating the leftover oatmeal bread toasted for breakfast, and it’s fabulous with homemade butter and my dad’s blackberry jam. I’ll give you the recipe in my next post. If you don’t want to make your own bread, or you don’t have time, or you don’t want to wait for that post, then buy a loaf of freshly baked multi-grain bread from your bakery, because this soup just demands some hearty, crusty bread on the side.

Fall Vegetable Soup

2 tablespoons olive oil (I only use cold-pressed)
1 medium sweet yellow onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
2 large ribs celery, sliced thin
2 quarts good chicken or vegetable stock
28-ounce can diced tomatoes in juice
1 cup white wine (any kind will do; I used some plain white cooking Vermouth I had in the cupboard)
2 rutabagas (each about the size of a tennis ball), peeled and cut into dice
2 parsnips, peeled and sliced
2 carrots, peeled and sliced
2 ears of fresh corn, kernels cut from the cob
1-1/2 cups dried lentils
2 handfuls greens (mustard, collard, and whatever else was in my bag from the farm share), chopped
1 bay leaf
2 teaspoons dried thyme
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

In a large soup pot, heat the olive oil until hot. Add the onion and garlic, and cook over medium-low to medium heat until softened and translucent, stirring often.

Add the celery and cook until softened.

Add the stock, tomatoes, and wine, stirring well. Turn up the heat and cook until the soup is starting to bubble.

Add the rutabagas, parsnips, carrots, corn, lentils, greens, and seasonings. Stir and maintain high heat until bubbling resumes.

Reduce heat until soup is simmering. Cover and allow to cook for an hour…or two…or three. Cook at least until vegetables are tender. The longer you allow the soup to cook (without letting it turn to mush), the better the flavor will be.

This could also be slow-cooked in a crock pot for an easy weekday meal.