Snow days. Is there anything better as a kid? The anticipation the night before as the snow starts falling. The sudden interest in the nightly news and the weather report? Trying to predict if the snow total you get will be enough for to hear your school announced on the radio the next morning. Of course it meant something totally different to our mothers. To our mothers it meant harnessing and directing the fevered energy of snow maddened children into activities that would leave our humble abode intact. Getting us out of the house to burn off that energy was Priority One.
Snowball fights, snowmen building, igloo construction and our ultimate passion, sledding. We had enough hills to keep us occupied for most of the day. Long, steep hills where the Flexible Flyer could build up some decent speed. Of course we whined mightily as we climbed back up the hill. Why couldn't someone rig up a rope to help aid our ascent? Better yet, how cool would it be if there was a sledding lift to lift us out of our thigh burning misery? Feasibility wasn't our strong suit at the tender age of 10. Neither was common sense as we tried to figure out the logistics of running garden hoses to our sledding hill to create an icy speedway. Luckily we usually ran out of energy before starting hose haulage. Besides we had now worked up an appetite and it had been long enough that we were considered calm enough to be allowed back into the house. Snow blind with frozen toes, just how much damage could we do? Our reward was hot tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.
My food memory of cream of tomato soup was of rich tomato flavor, perfect for dipping a hot grilled cheese into. On the first snow day of this winter, I cracked open a can of Campbell's tomato soup, only to discover a pale ghost of it's former glorious self. Even catchup was better than what came out of that can. The overwhelming flavor? Sweetness. I dumped the whole thing in the trash. I would have to find my own cream of tomato touchstone.
Surprisingly a can would still be involved. I turned, as I often do, to the good folks at Cook's Illustrated. In their massive cookbook, The New Best Recipe, they too described the memories of the Campbell's Soup version of their youth. With that in mind, they came up with the following recipe.
Cream of Tomato Soup
2 (28-ounce) cans whole tomatoes packed in juice, drained, 3 cups juice reserved
1 1/2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
4 large shallots, minced (about 1/2 cup)
1 tablespoon tomato paste
Pinch ground allspice
2 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 3/4 cups chicken stock, homemade or canned low-sodium
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons brandy or dry sherry
Salt and cayenne pepper 1. Adjust oven rack to upper-middle position and heat oven to 450°F. Lined rimmed baking sheet with foil. With fingers, carefully open whole tomatoes over strainer set in bowl and push out seeds, allowing juices to fall through strainer into bowl. Spread seeded tomatoes in single layer on foil. Sprinkle evenly with brown sugar. Bake until all liquid has evaporated and tomatoes begin to color, about 30 minutes. Let tomatoes cool slightly, then peel them off foil; transfer to small bowl and set aside.
2. Heat butter over medium heat in large saucepan until foaming. Add shallots, tomato paste and allspice. Reduce heat to low, cover, and cook, stirring occasionally, until shallots are softened, 7 to 10 minutes. Add flour and cook, stirring constantly, until thoroughly combined, about 30 seconds. Gradually add chicken stock, whisking constantly to combine; stir in reserved tomato juice and roasted tomatoes. Cover, increase heat to medium, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, to blend flavors, about 10 minutes.
3. Pour mixture through strainer and into medium bowl; rinse out saucepan. Transfer tomatoes and solids in strainer to blender; add 1 cup strained liquid and puree until smooth. Place pureed mixture and remaining strained liquid in saucepan. Add cream and warm over low heat until hot, about 3 minutes. Off heat, stir in brandy and season with salt and cayenne. Serve immediately.
You're going to have to find whole tomatoes, hopefully in their own juice and not in a puree. Also be careful about the salt content. Some tomatoes have much more salt than others. You want to be the one to control the flavor of your soup, not let a can of tomatoes overwhelm the balance you're trying to achieve.
Roasting your tomatoes is a crucial step. It definitely adds a depth of flavor that you're not going to get even when using winter fresh grocery store tomatoes. Don't skip this step. Once you get past the tomato prep, this soup goes together quickly and simply. As I finished off the soup I wondered if I really needed the brandy. The soup to that point tasted wonderful, rich with tomato flavor. How would the brandy help? I added the brandy just a little at a time and tasted after each addition. It was with this simple dish that I finally got to taste what Unami means. Unami is often talked about as the fifth taste. My soup was fine before the brandy but after the addition there was a savory depth, a complexity that lingered on the tongue and expanded into my sinuses. I never imagined a can of tomatoes could taste so good. It made a simple grilled cheese into a work of art. It even made my sweet gherkin pickles taste a little sharper and tangier.
As long as you have a decent can of whole tomatoes in your pantry, you will be ready for anything a snow day can throw at you.
