A tale of two carrot soups
And how to butter a crouton
‘Sunlight soup’ is how this carrot soup was described by a workshop guest, who happened to be sitting in a sunbeam that made everything shine brighter and even more peachy gold.
This is the simplest illustration of soup, an unassuming base made with one chopped, sweated onion and a bunch of carrots, sliced and simmered in a light broth. But what brings it to life are the dazzling playmates on top.
It started with a spoonful of double-cream yoghurt to act as a foil for the sweetness, hazelnut-brown butter to coax it from homely to the edge of luxurious, and toasted caraway seeds, which are botanically related to the carrot.
The flavours developed from an idea for roast carrots in sizzling, spiced butter and definitely worked. But the texture of the yoghurt was a little too similar to the soup and the caraway didn’t deliver quite enough contrasting crunch.
The answer lay in a crouton, and the consistency of this smooth, pureed soup was just right to hold it. But to keep each flavour distinct and prevent the butter and spices from scorching, the solution was to treat everything separately.
Which brings us right to the point: there’s a lot to be said for buttering a crouton – and doing it after toasting. Rather than grilling oiled cubes of bread, the butter is browned for rich complexity and tossed with the already toasted cubes.
Whether the soup is made with carrots pulled from the soil a few hours before or a wizened bunch at the bottom of the vegetable drawer, working on the topping and tweaking it accordingly can elevate the ordinary.
In this case a sourdough crouton was just tart enough to counter a farm carrot’s subtle sweetness but the concept can be applied to any single-vegetable soup, corresponding spice, and day-old loaf.