I Want You To Make These Cold Summer Soups

Tomato-Peach Gazpacho with Crunchy Quinoa and a Really Delicious Drizzle. PLUS! Cold Cucumber-Walnut Soup with Yogurt, Lime, and Olive Oil.

LATE SUMMER MUST-MAKES

In my early 30’s, I lived alone and had dinner parties one to three times a week, depending on how many unwanted pork shoulders or unfrosted cake layers I could snag from the leftovers shelf at work. I wanted to be surrounded at all times with food or people, and preferably both. 

During the most humid nights of July through September, I’d tell my people— who had just fared the atmospheric intensity of an underground commute back to Brooklyn, sticky and thick— that CSS was on deck and they’d arrive knowing that a Cold Summer Soup was sitting in the freezer. Back then, CSS was as recognizable an abbreviation in my friend group as is BLT at a Connecticut country club.

Ah, those were the years of enduring a landlord conveniently blind to the concept of AC; out of necessity I’d frequently garnish bowls of CSS with crushed ice.

THIS WEEK, AS HOMAGE TO MY FAVORITE HOT WEATHER CONSUMABLE, I’M SUPER JAZZED TO PRESENT…

TWO COLD SUMMER SOUP RECIPES. TWO!

IF EVER THERE WAS A TIME FOR A WALNUT…

#1: COLD CUCUMBER-WALNUT SOUP WITH YOGURT, LIME, AND OLIVE OIL

I’ve made it a dozen times this summer already: a bracingly refreshing cucumber number, emulsified into a textured purée with olive oil, yogurt, garlic, lime, and walnuts. This is a sipper that’s been in rotation for like 13 years, which I consider pretty weighty, since I’m not much of a repeat-recipe offender.

During scorching weeks like this last one, when any stolen moment was devoted to watching the US Open, I was seriously grateful for the ability to run into the kitchen and complete dinner prep in a shorter amount of time than some of Tiafoe and Shelton’s rallies. Active time: 4 to 6 minutes (depending on how quickly you peel your cukes). For this cucumber soup recipe, scroll down.

#2: TOMATO-PEACH GAZPACHO WITH CRUNCHY QUINOA AND A REALLY DELICIOUS DRIZZLE

READY FOR A STROLL ON THE BLUE CARPET

In the same vein of remembering old dinner parties and throwing back to the glory days of living in a 4th floor walkup without air conditioning, I’m asking you to join me in the past for a moment and reach for an ingredient that you probably haven’t used in awhile. I’ll bet, way in the back back of your cabinet, you have stocked a dusty, crusty bottle of balsamic vinegar. Well, it’s time for her encore. (Don’t worry, vinegar has no expiration date.) 

I imagine the spirit animal of balsamic vinegar as a Beanie Baby or a Spice Girl. Their big moments have passed.

And because of this, I strategically omitted “balsamic” in the title of this recipe for fear that it would be deemed passé and undeservedly passed over.

Last weekend, I found myself at a coastal condo in Georgia, where the kitchen cabinet displayed a trifecta of staples from previous guests: the dregs of an “extra light” olive oil, multiple shakers of lemon pepper, and a lone bottle of… balsamic vinegar. And it was that which sparked in me the memory of a hack that used to blow the skirts up of many a dinner party guest. But that trick faded, as do trending stuffed animals or a manufactured collection of female singers with a handful of number one hits. 

THE HACK

In under 8 minutes, you can turn a $4.99 bottle of balsamic into something that people would pay three to six times more for. Pour the poor stuff into a pot, bring to a boil, and let it cook down until reduced by two-thirds. It becomes thick, rich, and wine barrel-y, dark and sweet but searingly bright in the back of your throat, and probably similar to how Manischewitz tasted to me as a kid: like cooked plum jam, sour and sugary and definitely illicit. 

This reduced balsamic drizzle will make you feel like Jean-Georges in 1994. WORK IT WITH THE PLATING, PEOPLE!

So, sorry… what’s the hack? When reduced, balsamic vinegar tastes like saba. So… what’s saba? It’s a (pricey) condiment made solely from spent grape must (that is, freshly pressed grape juice in conjunction with grape skins, seeds, and stems), cooked down into a super concentrated syrup that tastes winey, elegantly tart, vineyard-y, and incredibly complex.

While balsamic vinegar incorporates some of this precious grape must (which is what makes it balsamic), it’s also mixed with red wine vinegar, thereby diluting the richness of the saba. When you reduce a run-of-the-mill balsamic on the stovetop, you’re essentially cooking off the vinegar and concentrating its saba-y properties.

With the addition of a homemade balsamic syrup in this gazpacho, the noteworthy culinary moment is a seriously amplified experience of peachiness. How’s that for a relic’s curtain call?

I LIKE CRISPY CARBS… AND I LIKE THEM IN THIS SOUP

Crispy pasta, crispy rice, crispy crusts. (And while I’m at it, crispy skin.) Next up… quinoa. Crisped.

QRISPY QUINOA

Up to date with your NOODLEs? Then you’ve been plenty inundated with my preaching: play with textures and food will taste FUN.

If you’re not already crisping your quinoa, you’ve only experienced the grain in first gear. Toss cooked quinoa in olive oil and toast it up in a skillet for an instant DIY Grape Nuts moment. Adding a mound of it to the center of this gazpacho adds smack-worthy contrast to the velveteen texture of the puree and makes it a meal, to boot. Check ya laytah, croutons! For the gazpacho recipe, scroll down past the cucumber soup recipe.

COLD CUCUMBER-WALNUT SOUP WITH YOGURT, LIME, AND OLIVE OIL

Makes 5 cups; Serves 4 as a starter