I learned last night that soups that rely on the addition of a thin aeoli for color and flavor are probably not the best choice for my standard "make a pot to have for the week" strategy. The Soupe au Pistou I made began as a wonderful experiment. To a base that resembled nothing so much as a hearty, Frenchified version of classic minestrone, I added an aeoli-like sauce made with a healthy amount of fresh basil, which gave the broth a cloudy, beautifully greenish cast. The heavy, earthy flavor of three types of beans gave way to the seemingly more delicate garlic and basil accents. It was, quite simply, beautiful. A bit of Camembert on bread and a goblet of Unibroue’s Fin du Monde seemed to work well towards completing the meal.
The problem came when the egg of the sauce cooked itself in the remaining soup sometime while I was gnoshing. In the place of the subtly green cloudiness, I found a yellowish storm of sediment hiding under a thin, fluffy whiteness floating on the surface. A quick taste confirmed that it hadn’t lost much in the way of flavor, but it was infinitely less pleasing on a purely aesthetic level. The soup that had suggested spring had turned, in the course of barely 45 minutes, into a perfect model of autumn. I was sad. Even though J- returned home commenting on how good it smelled and assuring me that he probably wouldn’t even notice, I know what the soup was like before it overcooked.
I’m thinking that next week’s project will likely be borscht. It’s hard to go wrong with a pot full of roots and tubers.
creative