So close to 20 years ago, on a visit to my Aunt Sheila's house, we were served a curried pumpkin soup. To this day it remains one of the most amazing dishes I have ever eaten. About 10 years ago, I asked her about the recipe. Not only doesn't she remember where she got the recipe, she has no memory of making the dish. So for the past several years off and on I have tried to recreate it. And after several dozen attempts I have begun to suspect that I will never actually be able to recreate a fantasy that has, in all likelihood, ranged far from reality. As for this soup, well, it is not that soup. But it's still pretty tasty.
Roasting the pumpkin was definitely a good idea and the preserved lemons (although a bit odd sounding) were a real eye-opener, brightening the soup without being identifiable. As a caveat, I would seriously recommend to hold off on adding salt until the preserved lemons have had a chance to leach what salt remains on them into the soup. —Niknud
pumpkin, cut into manageable pieces
medium onion, diced
sweet curry powder (Penzey's is great)
cans coconut milk (full fat)
fresh ginger, grated
preserved lemon, peel and pith only, diced fine
Preheat the oven to 365. Split the pumpkin manageable size pieces and remove the seeds. Brush with melted butter (or you can use some additional walnut oil) and sprinkle with sea salt. Roast for about an hour (it took me 85 minutes so translating to sea level will probably put it around the hour mark). When the pumpkin has cooled enough to handle, remove the skins and cut into smaller pieces
In a heavy bottomed large pot, heat walnut oil until hot. Add the diced onion and cook until soft and translucent, about 7 minutes.
When the onions are done, add the chicken broth and pumpkin and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and add the curry powder. Simmer for about an hour.
When the vegetables are soft enough, remove from heat and puree using a immersion blender. Don't stress a few lumpy bits.
Return to low heat. Add the coconut milk, grated ginger, cayenne and preserved lemons (don't forget to rinse the lemons well). Stir and let it sit around and ponder the mysteries of life until the ingredients have had a chance to get to know one another. Only then should you add salt if it needs any.
Full-time working wife and mother of two small boys whose obsessive need to cook delicious food is threatening to take over what little free time I have. I grew up in a family of serious cookers but didn't learn to cook myself until I got married and got out of the military and discovered the joys of micro-graters, ethiopian food, immersion blenders and watching my husband roll around on the floor after four servings of pulled pork tamales (with real lard!) complaining that he's so full he can't feel his legs. Trying to graduate from novice cooker to ranked amateur. The days of 'the biscuit incident of aught five' as my husband refers to it are long past but I still haven't tried my hand at paella so I'm a work in progress!