Cold Soup

I remember a time when gazpacho became very trendy and was on every menu. I decided to come up with a different version—even with a different color. It was José Andrés of Jaleo in Washington, D.C., who made the best Spanish gazpacho I ever tasted, so I borrowed his technique of frying the bread in olive oil. The toasted flavor and richness of the fried bread helps mellow the acidity and round out the flavors of the other ingredients. The shellfish garnish is not necessary but makes the dish a little more elegant and sumptuous.

Gazpacho is traditionally made by adding olive oil to vegetable purée; in this light version, we left out the oil and used only a small amount to cook the shrimp.

A cup of this soup is delicious, served hot or cold. Try packing it in a thermos for a light picnic lunch. To chill quickly, place the soup in a bowl and set that bowl into an ice-water bath. Stir frequently until cool.

Depending on the weather, serve this comforting soup hot or cold. You can quickly chill it by placing it into a metal bowl set into an ice bath; stir frequently until the soup reaches the desired temperature.

In this classic cold sweet soup, maroon adzuki beans and chewy clear tapioca noodles, jokingly called worms in Vietnamese because they are slippery and sticky, swim in rich coconut milk. I usually prepare all the ingredients in advance and then bring everything together at the last minute. The beans and coconut milk base may be prepared a few days ahead and refrigerated until serving time, and the sugar syrup keeps in a jar in the refrigerator indefinitely. The noodles, however, are best if readied only a few hours ahead. Adzuki beans are sold at Asian markets and health-food stores. Once you have made this version, you may substitute other beans, such as black beans, hulled mung beans, or black-eyed peas. You may also blend the beans for a mixture of colors and flavors.

If you have never tried a Vietnamese che (sweet soup), this one is a good place to start. The perfume of the banana comes through wonderfully, and the tapioca pearls, enrobed in coconut milk, cook up to resemble large orbs of clear caviar. Once the tapioca pearls have fully expanded and set, the texture of this mildly sweet treat is like that of a thick Western-style tapioca pudding. Small, creamy bananas, such as the Nino variety, also known as Finger or Baby, are traditionally simmered for this sweet soup. They are sold at Asian and Latin markets. If they are unavailable, substitute regular bananas. Regardless of the variety, use ripe but firm, blemish-free fruits.

This cold soup is yet another use for the exploding basil in my garden. I created it for a backyard party that Country Living photographed for a summertime issue. There’s something special and a little bit elegant about starting an alfresco party meal with soup. Texas summers are so hot that I always like to offer something refreshing right off the bat. The gorgeous green color of this soup is set off beautifully by stark white serving bowls.

In the 1980s, puréed beets, snipped chives, and swirls of sour cream made a startling chilled soup that became an almost permanent fixture at the café in which I cooked for much of the decade. The most outrageous Schiaparelli pink, it was a picture in its deep white-porcelain tureen. I wish now I had had the nerve to include the finely chopped gherkins whose sweet-sour pickle notes could have lifted the soup from its candy-cane sweetness. One glance at a Russian or Swedish cookbook would have been enough.

The peel of the cucumber gives this soup its vibrant green color. Because it’s so easy to prepare, assemble all the ingredients beforehand so you can blend the soup just minutes before serving; the flavors will be fresh and the color bright. Don’t let it sit for more than 30 minutes or it will lose its luster!

This sweet and tangy cold soup is one of Lucid Food’s signature dishes. For catered events, we often serve it in shot glasses as an hors d’oeuvre. A guest once suggested we top them off with vodka, and so a wonderful new take on the Bloody Mary was invented. You can make this recipe a day ahead and reseason it just before serving.

This lighter take on cold spinach soup gets its rich texture from potatoes instead of the traditional cream. Lamb’s quarters grow wild and are sometimes considered a weed, but they taste like chard or spinach when cooked. Pea shoots are the young leaves and tendrils of pea plants (shown below). Long used in Chinese cooking, pea shoots have a strong, fresh pea flavor.

This summer recipe centers on a versatile ingredient that’s beloved in Japan but almost unknown here, one that I know you’ll enjoy. It’s called yamaimo, or mountain yam. This root has a nice, fresh taste, with a delicately sweet, nutty flavor and lots of umami, or sense of savoriness. The most popular variety, which you can find in Asian markets, looks like a tan-colored baton. Peel the skin and grate its white flesh. Raw yamaimo has a liquidy, slippery texture that might take getting used to, but it pairs beautifully with the toothsome soba in this dish. I’ve also added okra, a cooling Southern favorite that’s very popular in Japan.

Gazpacho is essentially a liquid salad. It’s best prepared at the height of summer, using fresh, local ingredients—I always use Georgia-grown vegetables when I make this gazpacho. The key is to use the proper amount of salt to draw out the moisture and flavor of the vegetables. There is nothing so simple, yet so vitally essential to cooking, as salt. Without salt even the most elaborate dish would be lifeless and dull. I remember staring incredulously as my chef in culinary school would toss what seemed to be handfuls of salt into food. Now I giggle when my students stare at me when I do the same!

A French classic, this soup marries humble ingredients and well-executed technique to produce an excellent first course or a warming meal with cornbread on a cold winter night. When chilled, this is the famous vichyssoise, a great soup for a cool day. Omit the cream if you want a lighter soup.

I made this soup for Mama when I was in junior high. She had been going through a tough time and one day when she came home for lunch I had prepared a chilled cantaloupe soup out of Southern Living magazine. Even though I had always enjoyed cooking, I think that this slightly unusual soup caught her off guard. I wanted to make her feel better, and as it often does, homemade food made with love can make a dark day seem brighter.

Spain just might be the genius of the food world. While Spanish cuisine certainly isn’t my all-time favorite, Spain sure does churn out a lot of my favorite dishes. Among them is gazpacho, a delightful chilled soup that cries for a hot summer day and a cold, crisp cerveza. If you are unable to find Persian cucumbers, feel free to substitute the English or hothouse variety.

Avocado lovers will go ga-ga over the taste and those with swallowing difficulties or mouth sores will delight in the texture. Those of you into cool or room-temperature soups will embrace the clean, fresh feel of this blend. Avocados are one of those great superfoods, full of good fats and vitamins. They’re fun to work with, and all of the great shades of green in this soup are like preparing a beautiful watercolor that you can eat.

For success with this soup, don’t settle for less than luscious, tree-ripened peaches. Avoid peaches that are bought rock-hard, only to ripen to flavorless mush after several days of waiting.