I was going to talk about Pear Salad #1, but today's soup bumped that right out of contention.Actually, it was yesterday's soup, but neither Cranky nor I felt like eating pears again so soon... Pity us.
So this blend of pear, cucumber, a little onion, some fresh Anaheim chile, salt and buttermilk (mixed very smooth) stayed in the fridge overnight.
It lost a little of the vivid green color, but it really benefited from a rest. Like all soups, it tasted better the next day.
If I hadn't been posing an arty photo shoot, I might not have decorated it with those beautiful chive blossoms. But I believe, in retrospect, that they were essential to flavoring this cool concoction. Took it from "beauty product" (I mean, come on! Buttermilk, cucumber and pear?) to "food."
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11 comments:
It looks gorgeous! From schoolroom accident to transcendent beauty. Bravo! (and 6+ pears down...right?)
well, at least if you have leftovers you don't want to eat, you can use them for a facial :D
Now, that sounds delicious and I love the photo. You and Bea!
Love the photo. I don't think I've ever had fruit soup of any kind, but this sounds delicious.
That looks pearfectly delisous
One of my favourite passages from Proust is about pears.
But he was unable to dwell upon these reflexions, for M. de Charlus said to him imperiously: “Ask the head waiter if he has a Bon Chrétien.” “A good Christian, I don’t understand.” “Can’t you see we’ve reached the dessert, it’s a pear. You may be sure, Mme. de Cambremer has them in her garden, for the Comtesse d’Escarbagnas whose double she is had them. M. Thibaudier sends her them, saying: ‘Here is a Bon Chrétien which is worth tasting.’” “No, I didn’t know.” “I can see that you know nothing. If you have never even read Molière.... Oh, well, since you are no more capable of ordering food than of anything else, ask simply for a pear which is grown in this neighbourhood, the Louise-Bonne d’Avranches.” “The?” “Wait a minute, since you are so stupid, I shall ask him myself for others, which I prefer. Waiter, have you any Doyennée des Cornices? Charlie, you must read the exquisite passage about that pear by the Duchesse Emilie de Clermont-Tonnerre.” “No, Sir, there aren’t any.” “Have you Triomphe de Jodoigne?” “No, Sir.” “Any Virginie-Dallet? Or Passe-Colmar? No? Very well, since you’ve nothing, we may as well go. The Duchesse d’Angoulême is not in season yet, come along, Charlie.”
it's hard to follow Proust with a comment!! how cool is that. anyway, this soup is simply lovely and i like this combo of flavors.
So I'm not the only one who adds pears to soup? Yours is much more creative than mine, but try adding them to potato soup and see if you like it.
Michelle: Yeah, we got a looker this time, thank goodness. :P
Want a pear? Help.
Anita: I ain't rubbing Anaheims on my face!
Zoomie: Thanks. (And NO comparison to Bea.)
Kalyn: Then I suggest you start with a blueberry soup. You'll love it. You can say it's dessert.
Greg: We surprised ourselves, even. I mean, it sounded like a good idea in theory, and in practice, it was awesome.
Barbara: Pear snobbery! That's great; thanks.
Mary Coleman: Yeah, I'm a little woozy myself after that! I hope you'll think about trying some tender, naive pear-cucumber soup. :)
Amy: I'm getting to the pear-potato soup (and I was going to, still will, credit you for the idea). It just makes such a nice, sweet liquid.
Yes! Send pears!!! (dried, maybe?!) If I had only moved to the bay area...damn.
totally freakin' awesome...
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