Well-Mannered Sour Meatball Soup / Ekşili Kofte

Writer's Note: The lemon and egg mixture that is used in this soup is called terbiye which literally translated means "manner" (of the Emily Post variety) -- you literally manner your soup.  This soup is perfect on a winter evening, especially if you have a cold.  Enjoy!

Ingredients:

300 grams ground beef
1/3 cup basmatic or jasmine rice
1 tsp. dried mint
1 tsp. Aleppo pepper
1 tsp. ground cumin
2 tsp. olive oil
1/2 tsp. salt
freshly ground pepper to taste
2 slices old bread, crusts removed and torn into small pieces
1 medium onion, grated

2 eggs
2 lemons, juiced
salt to taste

Directions:

Heat your oven to broil or the highest temperature.  Fill a medium-sized pot with water 3/4 full and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.  Cover a baking sheet with aluminum foil.

Knead the first 10 ingredients (for the meatballs) for at least 5 minutes until well combined.  Make small meatballs no larger than the size of a quarter (or a 2 Euro coin for those on this side of the Atlantic).  Lay the meatballs evenly spaced apart on the foiled baking sheet.  Broil the meatballs for 7-8 minutes until just a little browned on top.

Drop the meatballs into the boiling water and continue to boil over medium heat for 30 minutes.  The meatballs will turn the water into a nice beef broth for the soup.  Turn off the heat under the soup.  You can skim off the oil from the top of the broth or leave it to flavor the soup, as you like.

While the meatballs are cooking, whisk the two eggs with a fork until well combined.  Add the lemon juice and continue to whisk until the color has lightened and it is frothy (at least 3-4 minutes).  This is the terbiye for the soup.  The trick is to add it to the soup without cooking the eggs.  By adding only small amounts of the broth (a tablespoon at a time) you can slowly raise the temperature of the terbiye without cooking the eggs.  Add a tablespoon at a time, continuously stirring, until you have about two cups of broth mixed into the terbiye.  Slowly pour the terbiye into the soup.  Add salt to taste, and a little extra lemon juice if you like, and serve.

Broccoli Potato Leek Soup / Pırasa Patates Brokoli Çorbası

Writer's Note: A guy I used to date once said my kitchen was where fruits and vegetables went to die. No, he wasn't one of those crazy people who believe plants have souls, he just meant that invariably there was a bunch of spinach at the bottom of my fridge that had long out-lasted its usefulness. I admit it, I hoard spinach and eggplant and bananas in my kitchen in case a group of traveling carpenters knocks on the door and demands to be fed. (I once met a group of German traveling carpenters who belonged to a 16th century guild, wore top hats and carried walking sticks, and only listened to death metal. They were working in a hostel I stayed in off the western coast of Ireland. So it could happen.)

In my fridge now is an odd assortment of vegetables, courtesy of Boston Organics. I got some beautiful broccoli with freakishly long stalks. I like broccoli stalks, they taste better than their alien heads. Given that the leeks in the fridge were looking like they should be playing shuffleboard and wearing dentures, I thought a broccoli stalk leek potato soup was in order.

Ingredients:

stalks from 2-3 large stalks of broccoli, peeled and chopped

2 small potatoes, peeled and chopped

3 leeks, white and light green parts only, chopped or 2 small onions, diced

2 tbsp. butter

2 tbsp. olive oil

4 cups chicken or vegetable broth

salt to taste

optional: Aleppo pepper

Directions:

Melt the olive oil and butter over low-medium heat and saute the leeks or onions until they are soft. Add the broccoli stalks and potatoes and saute for a few minutes. Then add the chicken broth and bring to a boil. Simmer over low heat until all of the vegetables are tender. Blend until smooth. If you're a fussy soup person, you can strain the soup, but I'm not running the The French Laundry so bits of potato don't bother me. Add salt to taste and sprinkle some Aleppo pepper on top if you want to add some kick.

Red Lentil Soup / Mercimek Çorbası

Writer's Note: Today I read the first 50 pages of Russell Brand's memoirs, "My Booky Wook." (I should be writing my paper on civil-military relations in Turkey but I cannot resist Russell--he's candy for my brain.) Russell, you over-sexed madcap weirdo, you made me laugh like a psych ward banshee on the cross-trainer. If you haven't heard of Russell Brand immediately stop reading this blog and go youtube him. Don't worry about your hungry family, Russell will make the hunger pangs go away. This soup is so easy you can watch Russell and make dinner at the same time.

Ingredients:

4 cups beef or chicken or vegetable stock*

1 cup red lentils

1 onion, diced small

2 tbsp. olive oil

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. Aleppo pepper

1/2 tsp. of butter for each bowl of soup

1/2 tsp. dried mint for each bowl of soup

1/2 tsp. cayenne or Aleppo pepper total (optional)

quartered lemons for each bowl of soup

Directions:

Heat the olive oil in a pot over low heat and add the onions. Saute them until they are very soft, about 6 minutes, it's ok if they brown a little bit.

Add the lentils and saute for 2-3 minutes. Add the beef broth, salt, and Aleppo pepper and bring to a boil. Simmer for 20 minutes until the lentils are very soft (try them to make sure there is no "bite" left in them). They will swell and absorb most of the liquid in the pot after about 15 minutes. You can make the soup thinner by adding water if you find it too thick.

Using a hand-held blender or a regular blender, blend the soup until it is a creamy consistency.

Serve the bowls of soup with the quartered lemons and pour the sizzling butter over each bowl at the table. To make the sizzling butter, melt it in a small saucepan with the dried mint and the cayenne or Aleppo pepper if you so desire. Once it froths, pour it over the soup.

Watch Russell, eat soup, and cry tears of joy.

*I prefer beef stock but you can make it lighter with chicken stock, or vegan with vegetable stock.