Thursday, April 12, 2007

Sweet Potato Bisque

The chef has thrust upon me several bags of sweet potatoes. "Use these," she says. So what comes to mind? A big fat baked yam with brown sugar, cinnamon, and butter. My grandmother's recipe for sugary bliss on Thanksgiving burried under a mantle of marshmallows. The southern favorite, Sweet Potato Pie. Mashed, Whipped, Boiled, Beaten, Baked, Braised, anyway you cook 'em Sweet Potatoes will always bring a smile to my face. What do you get when you cross a filling starchy tuber with sugar and spice? A true comfort food.

But how to make this different? How to put my own signature on this dish? I decide that the starchy orange chunks are ideal for being pureed into a bisque. A bisque is always pureed and is traditionaly made from shellfish and usually contains cream. This soup is not meant for a nice light lunch with saltines. "Thick" and "rich" are the two words that best describe a bisque.

First, the Mirpois. This is a French term for the genesis of every soup. The French begin by sauteeing celery, carrots, and onion before doing anything else. In Creole cooking, this is called the Holy Trinity but they relieve the carrot and sub-in bell pepper. In Indian cuisine, they use a trio made up of onion, garlic, and ginger. Perhaps its the magic number of three? Perhaps its the Holy Trinity moving us? Whatever it is, it works! I decide to create my mirpois of celery, onion, and garlic. I sauteed these in vegetable oil until translucent. Salt helps this process.

There was no sherry on hand, so I used orange juice to deglaze the pot. (That means to dissolve and scrape up all the little brown carmelized bits stuck to the bottom of the pot.) Then I added some vegetable stock and the 15 pounds of sweet potatoes cut into small cubes. I used some traditional sweet potato spices. Cinnamon, Clove, and Nutmeg. Then I added some brown sugar and maple syrup to balance the spicy clove. I used white pepper....aesthetics. And a litte cayenne pepper to perk it up. (Cayenne pepper goes a LONG way. So unless you're used to using this spice, I would advise adding with your light hand, not your heavy hand.) To give it an aromatic touch, I put 3 bay leaves in the pot (to be removed later.)

After letting this concoction simmer for quite a long time, I pureed the whole thing until is was very smooth. Then I added some cream to give it a little richness and to thin it out. I was left with something that looked like runny mashed potatoes and smelled like sweetpotato pie. But a taste test revealed the true nature of the soup behind the facade of sweet aromas and seeming thickness: A creamy-smooth spicy comfort food that warms your bones. Perfect for this chilly, damp, Indianapolis spring-time weather.

4 comments:

stephensdad said...

Sounds delicious you should bring a couple cups home to your mom and dad.

Maura said...

My brother ... the Iron Chef!

Al said...

Wow! Who knew the Cumin was so interesting? When will you come up to make us soup in our new kitchen??? Maura...yes you can come!

UncleDirt said...

That's a very nice start. I've added you to my favorites and look forward to reading more of your postings.