The healing power of soup – and three recipes to try at home
I like January as no one questions having soup at every meal. Simple to make and easy to digest, soup, for me, is all about comfort – providing consolation for rotten news or gently healing when illness strikes. “There’s something about a hot, home-made soup that warms both body and soul in winter. It is food that cooks gently and slowly, all the while filling the house with rich smells that tickle the nostril and give off a general feeling of well-being,” says chef and writer Jeremy Lee.
My mum’s chicken soup
All my memories of my mum, Brenda Victor, coalesce in chicken soup. The all-enveloping aroma of resolutely savoury chicken, bay leaf, peppercorns, vegetables and barley still soothe me just as my mum, who died nearly seven years ago, always did. She’d greet me at the door of the Dulwich flat I grew up in when I arrived to visit, still wearing her apron, with the words ‘the soup is hot, are you hungry?’
Dubbed Jewish penicillin, even among non-Jews, the restorative powers of this simple soup are legendary. According to research by the Nebraska Medical Center, there’s evidence that traditional chicken soup might have an anti-inflammatory effect, helping to alleviate symptoms of upper respiratory tract infections such as a cold. No wonder, then, that when I was young and snuffly, off school and contentedly reading in bed, some nice chicken soup was always the cure.
Today, I love the ritual of making Mum’s chicken soup, knowing she would be proud I am carrying on a tradition passed down by her mother, Simmy, a superb cook, and her Lithuanian grandmother Sarah too.
I spoke to chefs, writers and food experts about the soup that connects them to their roots.
Judy Ang-Mcguire’s bah kut teh
“My mother had nine children, so life was always very busy for her” says Singapore-born Judy Ang-McGuire who’s lived and cooked in London since her 20s and now runs 3 Dumplings, a popular supper club, from her elegant home in Balham. “She juggled looking after us with being a seamstress and sometimes holding down other jobs too. Bah kut teh is the soup Mum would always make when someone was not feeling well. It is a mainstay of all Asian households, each family recipe has its own quirks”.
“I was the second youngest child, and I remember being sent to the Chinese Medical Hall from about the age of ten to buy the special combination of Chinese herbs for making bah kut teh.” recalls Ang-McGuire. “I didn’t really like going there, as the smell was bitter. Nowadays, I go to Chinatown in London’s Soho for my ingredients.”
According to Ang-McGuire, this pork rib soup (the literal translation is “meat tea”) must be made with white pepper which is much more savoury than black pepper and doesn’t colour the broth. Her mum would cook bah kut teh over charcoal or kampong wood in the outdoor kitchen of their backyard. Key to its restorative qualities are goji berries which are rich in antioxidants and thought to boost the immune system. Rice is often added to make it a more substantial meal. “When I cook the broth at home the fragrant aroma still immediately transports me home to Singapore.”
Lerato Umah-Shaylor’s pepper soup with pumpkin
“Growing up in Lagos, Mum was always quick to say she would make some pepper soup if she detected even the slightest sniffles” recalls cookbook writer Lerato Umah-Shaylor who runs cookery classes in London and retreats in Africa. “It is the West African soup that is regarded as the elixir for all medical ills.”
Umah-Shaylor’s mum used African basil to make a fragrant soup which also included alligator pepper, a member of the ginger family. “The seeds are small and round, similar to miniature nutmegs” she explains. “When they are crushed, the seeds release a citrussy aroma with hints of jasmine and cardamom and the peppery heat builds slowly on the palate.”
“I like to make my London version of pepper soup. It draws both on my heritage and customs I have picked up here like using pumpkin or sweet potato for a much creamier taste”. The finishing touches to the soup are important. “I like to use roast pumpkin seeds and broken up plantain crisps. Traditionally, pepper soup is eaten with pounded yam, though I prefer boiled plantain. With soup – and with everything in life – I like to take my own path.”
Africana by Lerato Umah-Shaylor (Harper Collins); Lerato Foods
Patrick Baumé’s French onion soup
“I always associate French onion soup with happy teenage memories of our big family New Year’s Eve celebrations at my grandparents” says Patrick Beaumé, chef of the Cartford Inn in Lancashire, who grew up near Bordeaux. “Around one am, my mother, Françoise, would bring out a big bowl of onion soup. We’d all have been partying and drinking quite a lot of champagne. The soup was essential. It helped to soak it all up, assuage our hunger and prevent hangovers.
Beaumé’s French onion soup, served at the riverside inn in Little Ecclestone that he runs with wife Jules, contains a special English ingredient that his mum also used. “What makes our soup super savoury is Lea & Perrins Worcestershire sauce which you could already find in supermarkets in France back in the 1970s.”
Beaumé’s version, made with traditional beef stock, is so popular he can never take it off the menu. “Guests order it even in the middle of summer,” he says. You can also buy it to take away from the deli beside the inn and from the couple’s online shop, along with a special bowl that Jules commissioned.
Alissa Timoshkina’s borsch
“My mother and grandmother prided themselves on making big, hearty, nourishing soups. Living in Siberia we really needed them,” says chef and author Alissa Timoshkina. “Now I am a mother and live in London, I think my attachment to soup is more amplified and deeper. Sometimes, when I am preparing borsch, the connection feels almost visceral.”
Timoshinka’s grandmother Rosalia made rich soups in the Jewish Ashkenazi tradition. “She would fry the carrot, beetroot and grated pork fat in vegetable oil and often add a beef rib. I must admit I did find it rather heavy. My mother makes a much lighter version: she doesn’t fry the vegetable sofrito.”
Timoshinka has adjusted the recipe further, adding kidney beans for protein and texture, as Georgian recipes do. “I like to finish the soup with fresh herbs. Back in the Soviet days, we would use fermented tomatoes or sauerkraut as a topping which added a real tang. We all serve borsch with soured cream, that’s non-negotiable.”
Today, Timoshinka enjoys seeing her young son Freddie mix his borsch with lots of soured cream until it’s really pink and creamy, just as she did as a child. Six year-old Rosie has always been more adventurous and already seems to have developed East European taste buds. “This pleases me immensely,” she beams.
Kapusta: Vegetable-Forward Recipes from Eastern Europe by Alissa Timoshkina (Quadrille) is published on 20 February
Jeremy Lee’s lentil and ham hock soup
“Making soup has always been a nourishing back-you-up that banishes cold, soothes and emanates wellbeing,” enthuses Jeremy Lee, cookbook author and chef at Quo Vadis in Soho. “It was especially important in our home as Mum had a strange relationship with heating,” he quips of his time growing up in Dundee. Lee’s mum, Eileen Mabel Nieve “was a fabulous cook, much missed, and it remains a great regret knowing that I will never taste her dishes again”.
“Mum made a lot of traditional Scottish soups. Her favourites were cock-a-leekie, always with prunes, and lentil with ham hock. She liked its frugality.” Lee has continued his mum’s thrifty legacy when making his own soups: “Often I use whatever is lurking in the veg drawer when I have just got too carried away after a farmer’s market visit.” Soup is always accompanied by good bread and butter: “I love the purity of a well-made and structured loaf of white bread”. And the finishing touch? “I like a pot of mustard too for spreading thickly before anointing with ham from the cooked hock.”
Cooking: Simply and Well, for One or Many (Fourth Estate); quovadis.co.uk
