Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Red, green, gazpacho

I don't know why people always talk about Christmas in July.  Based on what I've seen in my kitchen lately, it seems to me that Christmas in August would be more fitting.


I know, I know, technically, the calendar says it's September now.  Sometimes, I even believe it, like when apples and grapes first started showing up at the market last week, or when I check the weather forecast and see our high is going to be in the 50s.  My kitchen is still full of tomatoes and basil, but it's starting to feel like a mad rush to get whip up pestos and roast the tomatoes and get everything stored carefully in the freezer to brighten the months to come.  I have more to say about those efforts, but first, I need to talk about gazpacho.


I made gazpacho a few weeks ago, back when it was still warm enough that the idea of a chilled soup doesn't feel quite so outrageous as it does today.  Today, I made my first pumpkin bread of fall, and I'm keeping warm at my computer with a sweatshirt and a mug of hot tea.  Two weeks ago, though, we had a warm day and lots of vegetables.  Gazpacho is my perfect August dinner: cool, refreshing, ideal for those hot, sticky evenings when you can't stand the idea of turning on the stove.

I had made gazpacho before, but the last time I made it, it was a chunky soup that really emphasized each vegetable individually.  When I was in France last summer, however, I tried gazpacho andalou, a smooth, velvety revelation that appears on menus all over the country, but especially in the southwest.  It was served with tiny bits of bell pepper, onion, and crisp little croutons to be added by the diner as garnishes, providing just enough textural contrast to keep the whole thing interesting.  This was the gazpacho I wanted to make.

Gazpacho andalou is a French name for the popular chilled tomato-based soup from Andalusia, the southernmost region of Spain.  Home to the Great Mosque at Cordoba, Pablo Picasso, and hot, dry, summers, these people really know their chilled soups.  Their gazpacho includes all of the common ingredients found in a chunky, state-side gazpacho: tomato, bell pepper, cucumber, onion, garlic, good vinegar, good olive oil, salt and pepper.  However, there's also one more standard ingredient mixed in: stale bread, which helps the smooth soup bind together.  Because we're not worried about having perfectly diced vegetables, the recipe couldn't be easier: just a rough chop, a minute or two whirling in the food processor, and a quick press through a sieve.  No heat required; thank goodness.

The thing that really counts, though, in making a good gazpacho is to use top-notch ingredients.  Luckily, August is the month that farmer's markets are overflowing with vegetables, and this is a perfect way to use 'em.  (I know, I know, that pesky September thing again... but last I checked, there were still plenty of vegetables at the market, so if it's still hot enough to warrant it where you live, get to it!)  The vinegar and olive oil should be great, too.  A good sherry vinegar, always a popular choice in Spain, is ideal, but any vinegar you like enough to drink straight would be great.  As for the olive oil, this is the time to break out the expensive bottle of extra virgin, estate pressed stuff.  Keep a little extra on hand for garnishing, too.

Speaking of garnishing, keep an extra red and green bell pepper on hand to dice for garnishes, and then go to town with the Christmas in August celebrations!


Gazpacho Andalou

Traditionally, gazpacho was made by mashing all the ingredients together with a mortar and pestle.  I've heard this gives the soup a better texture.  But when it's hot enough outside that you want gazpacho for dinner, do you really want to be exerting all that energy?  I don't.  I was quite happy with the results from my food processor, and it saved me some considerable elbow grease.

All the recipes I've seen for this gazpacho say that it needs to sit at least 2 hours once it's all mixed together, and they're not kidding.  When I tasted it right out of the food processor, it was a disappointing, bland vegetable mush.  The next day, though, the flavors were much more pronounced.  After two days in the fridge, it was better yet, bright and refreshing. 

2 1/2 lbs tomatoes, seeded (reserve the juice!), and cut into chunks
1 good-sized cucumber, or 2 medium cucumbers, peeled, seeded, and cut into chunks
1 green pepper, seeded, cut into chunks
1 red pepper, seeded, cut into chunks
1/4 sweet onion, diced
1 small clove garlic, peeled
6 oz good bread (I used this one), crusts removed and torn into smallish bits
2-4 tablespoons good olive oil
2-4 tablespoons good vinegar (sherry, if possible)
Salt & pepper

Set the bread to soak in the reserved tomato juice.

Combine the cucumber, tomatoes, peppers, onion, and garlic in the bowl of a large food processor.  If you don't have a huge food processor, it may be easier to do this in two batches.  Add in the vinegar, olive oil, salt, and pepper, and let sit for 10 minutes.

Add in the bread and tomato juice, then process until smooth, pausing occasionally to scrape down the sides of the processor with a spatula.  Season with salt and pepper to taste, keeping in mind that the flavors will heighten as the soup rests.

Strain the soup through a seive or chinois, then set in the refrigerator to rest for at least two hours, and up to three days.  Serve chilled with good bread and some garnishes (see below for possibilities).

Garnishes

While not strictly necessary, having some crunchy bits of vegetables or croutons make for a fantastic contrast with the silky-smooth texture of the soup.  The garnishes are generally served separately in small bowls.  At the table, diners can garnish their own bowls of soup as they please.

1 slice good bread, diced into tiny bits, browned in the oven for 5-10 minutes to make croutons
1 red pepper, seeded, diced into tiny bits
1 green pepper, seeded, diced into tiny bits
1 small cucumber, seeded, diced into tiny bits
Good olive oil, for drizzling

Serves 4 as a main course with bread, or 8-10 as an appetizer

1 comment:

I need orange said...

Love your red&green pics! :-)

The soup was very good. I would eat it again. :-)