Curried Split-Pea Soup
As a flight attendant, it's not unusual for me to work 14 hours shifts, wake up at 3am, or go an entire day without a decent meal or the ability to use a real bathroom. This, combined with an airplane full of grumps who leave things like hard boiled eggs or used socks behind in seat back pockets, or throw tantrums over the fact that you put five cubes of ice in their drink when they explicitly asked for three is enough to make any sane person go off their rocker. I have two weapons in my arsenal that I use to keep myself from completely losing it- One: daydreaming about future or past vacations I have taken using my benefits. I actually say to myself "this person means nothing because in one month your happy little butt will be sitting in first class on the way to ________". and Two: what I am going to cook once I finally get back to my own kitchen. I'm usually gone for about 5 days at a time, and I can only handle so much sad congealed kiosk food from the airport. It was also a bit on the chilly side in Los Angeles (which to us Angelenos means any time the temperature drops below 68 degrees) and in the cities I flew to, so I knew I wanted to make something comforting. Something that felt like being wrapped up in a warm,dry quilt.
It's interesting how closely smell, taste and memory are connected. For example, smelling warm vanilla sugar body lotion can unfortunately spiral me back all the way to the 7th grade. The crackling sound of Lumpia frying and it's pungent smell, and I'm 11 years old again and My Grandmother is clucking her tongue because I've rolled mine so fat they resemble burritos. As this soup was bubbling away, I found myself transported back several months, under an endless canopy of stars, goats bleating all around me, in Mkuru Camel Camp in Tanzania, Africa. Sunburnt and sore from my walking safari and camel ride, I all but cried tears of joy when a steaming pot of curried vegetable soup arrived in front of me. A blur of goat meat, toast, vegetables, rice, fish, make up most of my food memories from the 7 day safari. Curious that I remember the soups the most. This recipe for Curried Split pea soup is very similar to the vegetable soups I had while in Tanzania.
“Scientists suspect that taste and memory are inextricably bound. That taste, like smell, bypasses the part of the mind that is logical and educable and travels directly to the primitive brain, seat of instinct and memory. But it is unclear, given our highly idiosyncratic associations, which came first — taste or memory? Does the briny squish of an oyster recall sex, or was it the erotic frisson that a young M. F. K. Fisher felt the night she ate oysters and danced with a girl that forever influenced her perceptions?”- Molly O’Neill, “FOOD;Taste Memory,” The New York Times.
”
During my trip to Tanzania I wandered the endless rows, alleys, nooks and crannies of the Maasai market in Arusha, as well as Stone Town in Zanzibar on the hunt for special herbs and spices. The African curry is the most beloved of my haul. African curry is different from Indian, Japanese, Jamaican, or Thai curry because it contains a higher ratio of peppers. That aromatic heat is something I can't get enough of. Give me curry soup, curry sandwiches, curry cupcakes! Curry everything! You can, of course use any curry powder found at your grocery store for this recipe but if you can somehow get your hands on African curry you won't regret it. It'll be great for many other dishes as well. This recipe takes all of 15 minutes to prepare and throw together, it's very simple. So pick up a crusty baguette, slather it with butter, and dip into this velvety, fragrant soup.
What is your favorite food memory?
Gorgeous ingredients.
1
Chop your onions, mince your garlic, peel your carrots, and cut them into small pieces.
2
Place the butter (or vegetable oil or smart balance to make this vegan) into a large saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the onion,pinch of salt, and sweat the onions for around 3 minutes, then add the garlic and carrots and cook for about 2 more minutes. Make sure not to allow them to start browning, or your soup will end up looking like mud.
3
Add broth, peas, and curry powder. Mix and simmer on low for 45 minutes to an hour, until peas are nice and soft. Taste and add salt and pepper to taste. Blend soup in a blender, food processor, or with an immersion blender until smooth. If your soup is thicker than you would like, this would be the time to add a splash of broth or water.
4
Garnish with a dollop of sour cream, cilantro, a little bit of cayenne if you like a little kick (I do) or anything you have on hand, really. This soup would still taste heavenly even if it was topped with the sole of a shoe.
enjoy piping hot with plenty of bread!
CURRIED SPLIT-PEA SOUP
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, vegetable oil, or smart balance
1 cup chopped yellow onion
3-5 cloves minced fresh garlic
3 carrots
2 cups dried green or yellow split peas, picked over and rinsed
5 cups chicken broth, or vegetable broth
1 tablespoon curry powder
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1. Chop your onions, mince your garlic, peel your carrots, and cut them into small pieces.
2. Place the butter (or vegetable oil or smart balance to make this vegan) into a large saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the onion,pinch of salt, and sweat the onions for around 3 minutes, then add the garlic and carrots and cook for about 2 more minutes. Make sure not to allow them to start browning, or your soup will end up looking like mud.
3. Add broth, peas, and curry powder. Mix and simmer on low for 45 minutes to an hour, until peas are nice and soft. Taste and add salt and pepper to taste. Blend soup in a blender, food processor, or with an immersion blender until smooth. If your soup is thicker than you would like, this would be the time to add a splash of broth or water.
4. Garnish with a dollop of sour cream, cilantro, a little bit of cayenne if you like a little kick (I do) or anything you have on hand, really. This soup would still taste heavenly even if it was topped with the sole of a shoe.
