By Logan Webster
This tomato soup recipe comes from way far back when we lived in France. It’s been passed down from mother-to-daughter for over 100 years. The farthest I could trace it back to is my great, great grandmother. My grandmother learnt it from her mother, who, in turn, learned it from hers.
It’s a traditional dish that represents the common family. It uses unremarkable ingredients and banal cooking techniques. The soup’s even known as a poor man’s dish. It’s not made of anything particularly extravagant, being made with things like stale bread and a couple locally grown potatoes, but it’s made for the people most important to you.
My grandmother and her brothers would always make it when they went to their grandparents’ house on Thursdays when there was no school. They would help their grandmother harvest the vegetables, peel the potatoes, and husk the tomatillos. Together they would watch the soup boil and pass the ingredients through the old chinois strainer. The room would fill with the scent of homegrown vegetables.
The soup brought a certain warmth to the table. The soup was more than a meal to my grandmother, it represented some of her favourite memories. My grandmother had two kids, but neither a daughter, so she had no one to continue the tradition with. When my parents got married, my grandmother wrote down the recipe and gave it to her new daughter-in-law as a sign of acceptance into the family.
It’s a little unorthodox, but I am the next link in this family’s chain to inherit the recipe. When I’m old enough, I’ll pass the soup down to my kids… But not before passing it down to my entire 10th grade lit class first.
It’s a traditional dish that represents the common family. It uses unremarkable ingredients and banal cooking techniques. The soup’s even known as a poor man’s dish. It’s not made of anything particularly extravagant, being made with things like stale bread and a couple locally grown potatoes, but it’s made for the people most important to you.
My grandmother and her brothers would always make it when they went to their grandparents’ house on Thursdays when there was no school. They would help their grandmother harvest the vegetables, peel the potatoes, and husk the tomatillos. Together they would watch the soup boil and pass the ingredients through the old chinois strainer. The room would fill with the scent of homegrown vegetables.
The soup brought a certain warmth to the table. The soup was more than a meal to my grandmother, it represented some of her favourite memories. My grandmother had two kids, but neither a daughter, so she had no one to continue the tradition with. When my parents got married, my grandmother wrote down the recipe and gave it to her new daughter-in-law as a sign of acceptance into the family.
It’s a little unorthodox, but I am the next link in this family’s chain to inherit the recipe. When I’m old enough, I’ll pass the soup down to my kids… But not before passing it down to my entire 10th grade lit class first.
Ingredients:
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10 ripe tomatoes
2 medium sized potatoes 1 piece of celery (middle piece preferably) 1 baguette crust (stale (yes, stale)) 1 tbsp of butter Salt and pepper |
Procedure:
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1. Melt butter in a soup pan (preferably one with a heavy bottom).
2. Wash and quarter the tomatoes. Put them in the butter at slow to medium heat. Let them cook for 5 to 10 minutes. 3. Peel and quarter the potatoes. Drop them into the pan as well. 4. At the same time as the potatoes are added, pour in enough boiling water to cover the vegetables. 5. Chop celery and baguette crust into bits and add them to the pot, as well as salt and pepper. 6. Let it cook for 30 to 45 minutes. Let it cool afterwards. 7. Run the whole soup through a Moulinex blender 8. Add a bit more salt and pepper then reheat it slightly above eating temperature |
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