Celebration(s) and a Humble Soup.

Finding balance between festivities and simple food at home.

As the weather starts to get truly cold here in New York, everything begins to feel celebratory in anticipation of the upcoming holidays. I am hosting Thanksgiving this year (more on this next week) in my much too small apartment. What began as a dinner with just a few family members has grown into something larger. Before I can delve deeper into planning mode, I had to get through a week of different kinds of celebration — a birthday and a wedding.

On Thursday, I went to dinner for a close friend’s birthday at Shinzo Omakase in the East Village for their 13 course tasting menu. This Meal Out was one of the best seated birthday dinners I have been to. We had 12 people in our group, the maximum number they can accommodate at the counter, and enough to have the entire space to yourself save one table for two. Unlike dinners where you’re stuck speaking only with the person you are seated are next to, this format allowed for easy conversation and group-wide discussion as we gathered around the chefs preparing our food.

The next morning, I had the privilege of going to city hall with my dear friends for their marriage. That evening, they had their rehearsal dinner for friends and family followed by a celebration the next day. I got to do the tablescape for the dinner and love how it turned out! Fall colors with a hint of harvest, without feeling full-on festive (opting for orange/vermillion over holiday-leaning red). I will be sharing more about table styling and mood setting in the coming weeks.

After a week of celebration, I wanted to cook a humble Meal In and reset. I had a leftover loaf of ciabatta from the farmer’s market last week that was going stale, so I decided to make a Ribollita. Ribollita is a hearty Tuscan-style soup with beans, vegetables, and bread. I read years ago that Ribollita translates to “reboiled” and is named as such because people would make minestrone or vegetable soup in large batches, then reboil it the next day, adding stale bread.

Meal In - Ribollita (Tuscan Bread Soup)

I keep my Ribollita classic — with vegetable broth and cooked with a parmesan rind. First, I chopped 2 stalks of celery, 2 large carrots, 1 medium yellow onion, and 4 cloves of garlic. I added my celery, carrots, and onion to my dutch oven with ample salt and pepper. I then let it sit for a few minutes until the vegetables had softened. Once soft, I added the garlic, as well as a few minced springs of rosemary and thyme.

Next, I added a can of drained and washed cannellini beans, as well as a can of diced tomatoes. After stirring, I poured in almost an entire 32oz carton of vegetable broth. This might feel like a lot of broth, but the bread will soak up most of it, so don’t be deterred. Bring your soup to a boil, then turn it down to simmer. I then sliced the rind off a piece of parmesan and added it, along with a full spring of rosemary and thyme. Leave on a low simmer for about 20 minutes.

When I went to grab my stale ciabatta, I found it had been overtaken by mold. To substitute, I cubed some sourdough and added it to the oven set to 350ºF for a few minutes until it lightly toasted (use the oven as opposed to broiler here since the goal here is dehydration throughout, not a toasted exterior) . While the soup simmered and the bread was in the oven, I removed leaves of lacinato kale from their stem and chopped them, preparing them to add to the soup.

Once the soup was done simmering, I removed the parmesan rind and springs. I then added my kale and gave it a few minutes to wilt down. Finally, I added my bread and stirred everything together. Serve immediately with grated parmesan and a twist of black pepper. I personally like to add a little Calabrian Chile oil as well for some heat.

Every time I make this I am struck by how much flavor the parmesan rind imparts in such a short period of time. I don’t think this soup would be the same without it.

Meal Out - Shinzo Omakase

I walk past Shinzo daily and have been wanting to try it since it opened. My friend’s birthday gave me the perfect excuse. For a relatively inexpensive price, it was a great experience. For me, highlights were the hamachi, sablefish with yuzu pepper, akami with ponzu daikon, and unagi. Other bites, like the shrimp with uni or salmon with foie gras, were not my favorite and felt unnecessarily flashy, but I very much admired their seamlessness while serving twelve and willingness to accommodate. An added plus is that it is BYOB. We had a little birthday potluck of sake, champagne, and wine.

My sister was in town for the weekend to attend the aforementioned wedding. Over lunch, we were recalling the sushi restaurant we frequented growing up in Maryland. As a family of five, we would typically sit at a larger table in the front or back. Only on rare occasions when we visited alone with our mom or dad did we sit at the counter. We would watch closely as the sushi chef (who aptly went by the name King) prepared our rolls with a pufferfish lamp hanging above him.

Sushi Sono in Columbia, Maryland (image).

While Shinzo’s interiors may not rival Sushi Sono, the experience of watching in close proximity while someone perform their craft will never be lost on me (and it started at Sushi Sono). Shinzo is worth a visit, celebration or not. Let the celebratory season begin.