Is there such thing as a bad stew? Furthermore, is there such thing as a bad stew that starts with a moire poix? The flavors of sauteed onions, carrots, and celery just scream comfort in the winter. Top it off with crusty, olive oil, Parmesan covered bread and I need little else to keep me happy. Except for a little bit more sunshine…midwest winters are very cloudy.
This past winter I was determined to find more ways to eat kale. Kale is so healthy and actually really good when cooked well! In college, my roommates and I really liked making kale chips. Drizzle some olive oil and salt and they’re a perfect, crunchy treat. But I wanted more ways to incorporate kale into my every day diet. There’s a restaurant in Cleveland called Tommy’s. I only go there for two things: milkshakes and escarole pie. The escarole pie is like a pie burrito. The filling I opt for contains broccoli, cheese, and escarole. Escarole is a very bitter green but tastes great when cooked with other things. That’ll be my next kale project: replacing the escarole with kale in an escarole pie.
I might be in the minority here, but I love bitter greens. I recently learned I was a non-taster. Non-tasters and super tasters are terminology used by wine connoisseurs. It’s measured but the number of taste buds in a circle the size of a hole punch. If you have under 15 tastebuds in the circle, you are a non-taster. If you have 15-30, you’re an average taster. Over 30, and you’re a super taster. You have powerful buds to taste the complex flavors of wine. As soon as I learned what this was I quickly grabbed wax paper, punched a hole in it, and ran to the closest mirror to count my tastebuds.
I was a little in shock about my non-taster genes considering how much I like to cook. Shouldn’t cooks have excellent taste buds? I was mildly crushed. I’m still mildly crushed. Is what I’m tasting drastically different from what the people around me taste? Do I put too much spice in food?
At the end of the day, as long as I enjoy what I make I suppose that’s all that matters. (Sigh.) But for those who don’t find bitter greens such as kale revolting, this is a lovely stew packed with a lot of flavor. You can’t go wrong with a stew topped with crusty bread, olive oil, and Parmesan.
Ribollita (Italian Vegetable Stew)
Ingredients
- 2 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for drizzling
- 1 large onion, sliced
- 3 carrots, diced into small chunks
- 2 celery stalks, diced into small chunks
- 4 garlic cloves, minced
- 1 15 oz can whole peeled tomatoes
- 1 14 oz can cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 quart 4 cups vegetable stock
- 1 fresh rosemary sprig
- 1 fresh thyme sprig
- 1 lb Tuscan kale, coarsely chopped
- 4 oz Parmesan with rind, grated (separate the rind, don’t grate it)
- ½ loaf crusty bread, cut into 1 inch shocks
- Kosher salt and pepper
Instructions
- Preheat oven to 450°F.
- In a dutch oven or oven safe stock pot, heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil on medium heat. Saute the onion, carrots, and celery for about 7 minutes or until soft, stirring occasionally. Add the garlic and saute for 1 minute.
- Meanwhile, using kitchen shears, coarsely cut up the tomatoes while still in the can. Separate the tomatoes from the juices using a colander.
- Add the tomato to the pot and saute for 2 minutes to caramelize slightly. Add the tomato juices, beans, stock, rosemary, thyme, kale, and Parmesan rind. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 15 minutes. Taste halfway through cooking and add salt and pepper as needed.
- Add about half of the grated Parmesan. Add 1/3 of the bread chunks. Give the soup a good stir. Scatter the remaining 2/3rds bread chunks on top of the soup. Drizzle generously with olive oil and the rest of the grated Parmesan. Bake for 12 minutes uncovered.
