Vegetarian

In all but the best restaurants, risotto is abused—cooked in advance, baked, and who knows what else—so if you have never made risotto at home, you are in for a treat. It takes a little patience and a little practice, but it is not a difficult process at all. True risotto alla Milanese contains—indeed, features—bone marrow, but don’t be discouraged if you cannot (or will not) deal with that. Risotto is wonderful without it, and prosciutto makes an adequate substitute. What you do need are Arborio rice (now sold everywhere, but still best purchased in Italian markets), real saffron, and, ideally, good, homemade stock. (Having said that, see my “bare-bones” variation.) I might add this: After years of trying every possible technique to make my risotto as creamy as the best I’d ever had, I realized that the “secret” was large quantities of butter. Don’t hold back unless you must.

Unlike the often inedible rice that comes on every combo platter of tacos or enchiladas in this country (and, increasingly and sadly, in Mexico as well), this is the real thing. It’s the perfect side dish with any Mexican meal, especially when paired with Refried Beans (page 438). Whereas Spanish rice gets its color and flavor from saffron, the source here is fresh tomatoes.

When families in Mexico give up meat—either for Lent or for other reasons—they turn to soups like this one. You might have trouble finding fresh favas, though Latin markets frequently stock them, especially in spring, and I’ve even seen them at supermarkets in recent years. Their wonderful flavor has no exact match, but fresh peas are a good substitute. The best chile for this dish is the mildly hot dried chile negro; it’s best when toasted, which is an easy enough process: put the chiles in a dry, ungreased skillet over medium heat and cook, turning as each side browns, until browned and fragrant, 5 to 10 minutes.

Brilliant orange pumpkinlike squash fill the vegetable stands of Morocco and most other Mediterranean countries every fall, and they show up in stews, couscous, pasta, and soups like this.You may find the same squash in the States, but butternut, acorn, or sugar pumpkin—pumpkin grown for flavor, not size—are perfect substitutes and easy enough to find. (Canned pumpkin is an acceptable if not ideal alternative; drain it well.) Make this up to a day in advance, reserving the cream and cilantro to add just before serving.

I call this Caribbean because that’s where I first had it, but not surprisingly it’s a staple in much of Southeast Asia as well. Great with jasmine rice, it’s perfectly fine with any other short- or long-grain rice and can be varied in many ways. If you like, garnish with some chopped cashews or peanuts. I love this with spicy stews.

A great way to use leftover rice and a nice cooked treatment of kimchi, which you can buy at any Korean market if you don’t want to make your own. Good as a side dish with Korean food, this also makes a fine snack or even a main course (add chicken, pork, beef, or shrimp if you like). The butter is a contemporary feature, but it’s how I learned this (from a Korean-American friend), and I like it that way.

Every culture that relies on rice mixes other common ingredients into it, to boost both flavor and nutrition. Most people are familiar with Fried Rice (page 506) and Coconut Rice (page 516), but this recipe is quite different from those. If you make this dish with red beans only, use all the bean-cooking liquid for the rice; it will give it a lovely pink tinge.

This is different from most garlic soups, not only for the addition of plenty of cilantro (parsley is more common, yet this is traditional, too) but also because the garlic-cilantro mixture is uncooked except by the heat of the broth poured over it, so it remains quite strong. If you have good beef or chicken stock, use it both to poach the eggs and as the base of the soup. And if you have an extra 5 minutes, don’t toast the bread in a toaster but brown it lightly in a skillet on both sides in olive oil—there’s nothing more delicious.

The creamy, rich, and mildly spicy flavor of this soup makes it a great starter before Indian entrees like Crunchy Curried Shrimp or Fish (page 217) or Patra ni Machhi (page 231).

Served throughout China and Southeast Asia, sticky rice has become associated most closely with Thailand, where it is the equivalent of France’s bread, eaten at almost every meal. It’s addictive and easily made at home, as long as you plan ahead a bit. Sticky rice is one of the few grains—indeed, foods—that can be prepared without salt and still taste great.

This creamy soup is wonderful on hot days; pair it with tortilla chips and you have a great lunch. Unlike most avocado soups, which are cream based, this one features the sweetness of tomatoes and the bite of chiles. You can make this into a dip by adding another avocado or two and reducing the amount of stock to just enough to allow the mixture to be pureed. A nice touch is to use a third avocado, diced, as a garnish.

Here the shopping is more challenging than the cooking, but it’s worth the hunt: this tart rice preparation goes well with almost all Japanese food. It’s pretty as well. Umeboshi (pickled plum) is available at all Japanese markets. Shiso is a seasonal herb that you may have trouble finding in winter; substitute a mixture of basil and mint or just one or the other.You can also use a rice cooker to cook the rice here.

Having eaten countless dishes called gazpacho—both in and out of Spain—I feel less an authority than anyone to define it. Some people would have you believe that all gazpachos contain soaked bread, and indeed many do. Some say it must have vinegar; but I’ve been served plenty of good cold soups called gazpacho that were barely acidic. Others call any cold, drinkable soup that meets the need for both food and drink gazpacho. (A chilled can of crushed tomatoes would meet this definition and, with parsley and garlic, wouldn’t be too bad on a hot day.) I do have a few rules of my own for gazpacho: First, try to avoid green bell pepper. Even if it looks nice, this under ripe fruit adds crunch at the price of bitterness; use red or yellow peppers instead. Second, the raw flavors of uncooked gazpacho really do seem to mellow when you allow them to meld for a few hours or even overnight; while not essential, this is a nice touch. And finally, sherry vinegar (or high-quality wine vinegar) is preferable to balsamic vinegar in gazpacho; not only is it more authentic, but its cleaner flavor provides better balance. See the next recipe for a more complex version of this classic. Or add some cumin or paprika to this one, use tomato or V-8 juice in place of the water, and add fresh herbs—especially basil—as you find them.

Borscht, like gazpacho, is difficult to define; there are more versions than you can count. But at least we know they all (or almost all, anyway) contain beets (it’s likely that the word borscht comes from the same root as the word for beet). And usually borscht is served cold. But it can be a vegetarian affair or a big meaty stew. The vegetarian version is usually served cold, while the beefy version is usually a hot winter dish. Here’s a fairly simple cold borscht with hot potatoes, a style I have made for thirty years (and first ate, at my grandmother’s table, before that). For a meaty borscht, see page 148.

Originally an Indian vegetable soup, this became popular among British colonialists, who added chicken to the mix. I like it better in something approaching its original form, but see the variations for more substantial versions.

This improvement on the American Chinese restaurant classic has one thing in common with egg-drop soup: when properly made, the egg looks like delicate flowers. While many versions of this soup are thickened with cornstarch, I think the egg thickens the broth sufficiently. Like the Chicken and Watercress Soup on page 140, this has an Italian relative; see the variation. Any of these soups can be made more substantial by adding some shredded leftover chicken—or diced raw chicken, added while the stock is heating; don’t add the egg until the chicken is just about cooked.

When my grandmother was a girl, this was a staple winter dish, and it still is in Poland and much of the rest of Eastern Europe. You might think of porcini as Italian or French, but good dried mushrooms, including porcini, come out of Poland to this day.

Few things are more uplifting in the dead of winter than a bowl of this bright orange soup, which is equally good served cold in the summer. Don’t overcook the carrots or you’ll lose the beautiful color. This soup can be made ahead of time and refrigerated, then reheated if necessary.

In the States, cream soup usually conjures up images of thick, starchy soup with canned vegetables. But real cream soup, as made in France, is relatively thin, super-smooth, and fragrant with fresh vegetables and herbs. For convenience, you might prepare the vegetable puree ahead of time and refrigerate it; you can then finish the soup right before serving. Note that Vichyssoise, cold leek and potato soup, the variation that follows, is a direct descendant.

Here sorrel brings both acidity and lightness to an often heavy mixture. You can substitute watercress or spinach for the sorrel to similar effect, especially if you add a squeeze of lemon at the end. Though it has only two primary ingredients, this soup is quite complex, particularly when you begin with good stock. The best lentils to use here are lentilles du Puy or other small dark green ones. Use the greenish brown variety only if you cannot find these.