Beyond Hamburgers
FINE-KETTLE-OF-FISH SOUP
PREP TIME: 20 minutes
COOK TIME: 40 minutes
SERVINGS: 4-6 people
PREPARED BY: Mason Jane M.
INGREDIENTS:
3 Tbsp cooking oil
1 Tbsp garlic, chopped
1 cup celery, chopped
1 cup sweet red pepper,
chopped
½ cup onion, chopped
4 cups fish or clam broth
2 cups water
1 cup dry white wine
3 cups tomatoes, chopped
2 tsp turmeric
½ tsp saffron
1 bay leaf
2 sprigs thyme
Red pepper flakes (optional)
1.5 lbs. cod (or any firm,
white fish) in 1-2” cubes
½ cup orzo
Basil (fresh chopped or dried)
Cream
DIRECTIONS:
1. Heat oil in a large Dutch oven. Add
celery, onions, sweet red pepper, and
garlic. Sauté until soft and fragrant,
about 5 minutes.
2. Add the fish broth, water, wine,
tomatoes, turmeric, saffron, bay leaf,
thyme, and red pepper flakes. Cook
about 5 minutes at medium heat.
3. Add orzo. Cook about 8 minutes at
medium heat.
4. Add fish and turn off the heat. Let
stand until fish is white and firm, about
10-15 minutes.
5. Discard bay leaf. Put soup into bowls,
sprinkle with basil, and add a decorative
swirl of cream. Serve with warm,
toasted bread.
STORY BEHIND THE RECIPE:
My mother left Texas in 1959 and never
looked back, but after 50 years in New
York she still made mistakes. Minor faux
pas, mostly harmless – so many New
Yorkers are from elsewhere that all was
typically forgiven, but then my mother
moved to Nantucket. New Englanders
are a stiffer bunch in general, but the
elite old guard of Nantucket are their
own draconian category of social rules
and regulations, and my poor mother
was doomed from the start.
She’s a basket-weaver, which is a thing
on Nantucket – they have their own
special society and a museum for it and
everything. So my mother found herself
early on at a lavish dinner party in a
grand house on a street with the same
name as the homeowners. Uniformed
servants hovered discretely behind the
guests, of whom there were twelve,
including my intimidated mother.
The hostess, an arch woman with a
helmet of hair, wanted everyone to
know that she had made the first course
with her own two hands. It was a soup,
and it was magnificent – chunks of
cod in a creamy, aromatic tomato base.
Everyone praised it, but my mother
knew that the highest praise of all, at
least in Texas, was to ask for the recipe.
So she did.
The table was instantly quiet in that
way that lets you know you’ve made a
bad mistake. The hostess sat up very
tall. “It’s my mother’s recipe,” she said. “I
would never give it to just anybody.”
Her husband said, very quietly, “Give
her the recipe.” His wife replied, more
quietly, “No.” He said, louder now, “Give.
Her. The. Recipe.” She said, “NO!”
They did that can-I-speak-to-you-inthe-kitchen
thing. The guests made
awkward conversation as the voices in
the kitchen rose and fell, louder and
louder, a lot of “why do you ALWAYS..”
and “The LEAST you could do is…”
until they suddenly stopped. The hosts
emerged, and the dinner resumed as if
nothing had happened. Except no one
was talking to my mother anymore. She
suffered through the rest of the evening
in mortified silence. The hostess barely
acknowledged her when she left.
So it was a shock for my mother to
look out her kitchen window the next
morning and see the hostess huffing
up the walkway. She was moving fast,
looking grim. My mother opened the
door just as her former hostess reached
it, and she was about to speak when the
woman shoved a piece of paper into her
hand. “Here’s your f******g recipe,” she
hissed. “I hope you’re happy.” And then
she was gone.
My mother has never been invited to
another society event on Nantucket.
But this soup is worth it! Serve it with
a good, crusty bread and it’s a meal in
itself. You can make the base in advance
(I keep some frozen!) and add the fish
and orzo after reheating.
16 AWCH News & Events