Aunt Grant

Grant was a decent cook. I'd recruited him from the downtown Denny's. I go there early some mornings when I was working a day shift. I'd sit at the counter and watch the fry cooks work. Grant was extremely fast and accurate. He was a pleasure to watch. After a time we'd exchange pleasantries while he toiled away in the busy kitchen. He was like a good bartender, able to converse and work without losing a beat or making a mistake. I thought he might fit in to my kitchen down the street. One day I asked, "If you ever need an extra shift or two come see me at the Savoy?"

He showed up ready to work about two weeks later. I think Grant was a Vietnam vet, he was kind of twitchy. The new circumstance and working with high quality food made him nervous. The crew started calling him Aunt Grant because he was so worrisome. Grant was very intelligent but had a habit of cutting you off in the middle of a conversation with lines like, "Unfortunately you've mistaken me for someone who cares." He was getting on my nerves.

My head day cook had a heart attack, all of the sudden I had an opening that I hoped Grant could fill. The day kitchen manager was a Vietnam vet, he was a laconic but friendly dude with a droopy mustache and a family he bragged on. We all called him, Uncle Jay. I figured Aunt Grant and Uncle Jay might make a team. Grant switched schedules, working for me in the day and for Denny's at night.

Things worked out swimmingly. Grant was more comfortable working lunches. Poor old Whitey, the old day cook passed away so Grant had a permanent position if he wanted it. He and Uncle Jay watched each others back, just like combat buddies. Grant even talk the owner into trying a few new menu twists, specials and presentations. I was happy.

Over time frictions started developing between Grant and old Smitty, a 69 year old black waiter who only worked two shifts a week. Grant only saw Smitty on Friday but the two were always at each other. I'd worked with Smitty and found he was kindly old dude, Grant wasn't a racist but something about the two just didn't mix. Eventually Grant went postal, screaming at the old man and even throwing food. Some very hurtful words were said and he winged Smitty in the forehead with a monkey dish. I had no recourse but to let Grant go. I don't allow angry words, loud talk or cruel teasing in my kitchen let alone violence.

I gave Grant another chance a few years later at another establishment. This time he went off on the accountant over a monetary discrepancy on a paycheck. Back then we didn't know much about PTS and other combat related symptoms so I had to assume Grant was some kind of nut job. About that time I heard that Uncle Jay ran off with the bookkeeper from the Savoy. Poof, just disappeared, didn't tell his wife or kids, just gone for good. Jay used to tell a story about an old roommate of his after the war who one night announced that he was going out for chicken. That dude also vanished into thin air. "Well what do you know." I thought. "Uncle Jay went out for chicken."

Building soup is like forming a successful relationship.

What? You can't build a liquid thing. You've got to have bricks and blocks, timber and mortar to make a thing solid and real.

But what about nuance, flavor and feeling? Can you really dump some stuff from out of a can, add water and call it a soup? The gunk in the can is barely eatable. It's loaded with salt, preservatives and chemicals; all the vegetables are cooked to mush and the entire assemblage lacks the human touch.

To build soup you must learn to layer flavors, textures and tastes; season appropriately, wield the knife, thicken, cream and puree. You assemble with your senses a pleasing symphony that fills your home with wafting melodies of odor, the faint bubbling of broth at a simmer, the sight of a pot dancing full of vegetables and the final reward of warmth and harmonious flavors.

Most soups begin with the preparation of a mirepoix, a blend of diced vegetables; usually carrot, celery and onion that is simmered at the bottom of the soup pot in a small about of butter. In Latin cooking this is called a sofrito. A mirepoix may be as simple as onion and garlic or complex fond of meat, bones, vegetable matter and spices that is slow roasted and browned in an oven then added to cold water to simmer for hours to make a rich stock. Some very good stocks are available at the market these days. It would be wise to taste these offerings and pick a high grade organic formulation that resembles the real article. It is often difficult for the home cook to come up with enough, bones, fish heads and vegetable matter to make a truly desirable stock. Feel free to use store bought stocks but be careful to use a really good product (one low in sodium and lacking all chemicals).

When you have composed the mirepoix and the stock you have a base soup; to this you add ingredients and imagination to build the soup that you will take to the table. A list of possibilities would be endless. Most soups are composed of bits of meat, vegetable matter and some form of starch (potato, grains or noodles). The last steps in building soup are adding final flavorings such as fresh or dried herbs, seasoning with pepper and salt, adding heat, sweet, sour or bitterness, adjusting the texture, addition of dairy (cream, cheeses or yogurt) and finally the garnish.

Soups may be thickened in a variety of ways: roux (flour and fat), browned flour, flour paste, cornstarch, arrowroot, potato starch egg yolk, blood, liquid reduction or vegetable purees. If you pass a chowder rich with onion, celery, potato and cream through a blender you will end with a rather thick creamed soup.

To become an expert soupcon requires much investigation, imagination and experimentation. For the beginner it is best to follow detailed recipes and pay close attention to textures and tastes; enjoy the simmering pot and the simple elegance of a bowl of goodness of your own building.

This is the soup I make on the first day of a new restaurant job. Creamy Tomato Tarragon: for 4 to 6 servings saute a medium diced onion in 2 T. butter when it begins to lighten add 4 minced cloves of garlic saute till the onion just begins to brown then add 3 T. flour and cook for three minutes add 2 cups chicken stock and a large can of plum (Roma) tomatoes. Crush the tomatoes a bit with a stiff whip, potato masher or the back of a spoon. Bring the pot to a simmer then add three or four branches of tarragon. Simmer for 40 minutes, remove the tarragon and puree the ingredients in a blender or with an immersion mixer. Cool the soup and let it sit overnight. Before reheating add one cup heavy cream, season with sea salt, white pepper and a splash of your favorite hot sauce. A garnish or toasted croutons is nice or serve with crusty French bread.