My family is Jewish, so I've grown up believing in the almost mystical powers of chicken soup. My earliest experiences of chicken soup involved classic clear broth with golden slices of carrot, shreds of chicken and matzoh balls (dumplings made of matzoh meal and a mixture of flavourings). These days, I'm much more likely to tuck into a bowlful of my version of a Thai soup called Tom Khar Gai, which I love for its sharp citrus flavours, its chilli heat and the soothing sweetness of the coconut milk.
I realise the photo, left, doesn't do my Tom Khar Gai soup much justice, but believe me when I tell you that it tastes far better than it looks.
You start off the day before you need the soup by making an Asian chicken stock. Although it sounds like a lot of faff, all you need to do is tip the ingredients into a stockpot and let them simmer for a few hours. It's worth doing because it makes all the difference – this is one instance when shop-bought stock, even if it's fresh stock, just won't do.
Chicken stockchicken carcasses (or chicken wings if you can't get hold of whole carcasses) a brown onion, halved and peeled lemongrass stems, bruised with the back of a knife
a thumb of galangal, peeled and cut into chunks (if you can't find galangal, fresh ginger will do)
kaffir lime leaves (although it's difficult to find these fresh, you can now find them dried and sold in the spice section of many supermarkets)
small red chillies (the hot ones), sliced
star anise (go easy on the quantities, this spice has a very pervasive flavour)
fish sauce (again, you can find this in most supermarkets - if you can't, light soy sauce will do)
I've deliberately left the quantities for this recipe vague as you can make as much or as little chicken stock as you need (and your stockpot will allow). If you end up with more than you need, stock freezes very well once it has been thoroughly cooled.
Cover the chicken carcasses or wings with water, then add the remaining ingredients.
Bring to the boil, skimming the brownish scum that forms on the liquid. Reduce to a simmer – it's important to get the heat as low as you possibly can, so that only the occasional bubble breaks the surface. That way the stock should remain fairly clear once you're finished.
Carry on simmering for at least a couple of hours (I sometimes leave my stockpot on the stove for up to four hours).
Strain the chicken bones and spices, reserving the liquid. Now's the time to taste the stock. If it still needs to be more concentrated, put it back on the stove and boil until it's reduced to the appropriate concentration.
Allow to cool and (preferably) place the stock in the fridge overnight. You should find that any fat will float to the surface and harden to a solid, which will allow you to remove it easily. Your stock is now ready to use or freeze.
Once you have your stock ready, you can move on to making the Tom Khar Gai, which is a) an absolute doddle to make and b) one of those recipes that takes you from go to whoa (as the Aussies say) in a very short space of time, making this a handy dish for a mid-week meal.
Tom Khar Gai soup for two700mls Asian chicken stock 2 stems lemongrass, bruised with the back of a knife and cut into 10-cm lengths a thumb of galangal (or ginger, see above), peeled and cut into discs 1-2 small red chillies, sliced kaffir lime leaves 3 tbsp fish sauce (or soy sauce, see above) 150-200g shitake mushrooms, sliced 2 chicken breasts, skinned and sliced thinly 400ml can reduced-fat coconut milk 1 lime 4 spring onions, trimmed and sliced 2-3 tbsp chopped fresh corianderTip the stock into a saucepan and add the flavourings, from lemongrass to fish sauce. Bring to boiling point, then reduce the heat and simmer for 15 minutes or so in order to let the flavours infuse. (I'd start off by using one chilli – you can always add more later on, but you can't remove chilli heat if you add too much at the start, a lesson I've learned from bitter experience.)
Add the mushrooms and cook until tender (a matter of five minutes or so, depending on how thick you've sliced them).
Stir in the chicken and cook through.
Stir in the coconut milk. It's important not to let the soup boil from this point on, otherwise the coconut milk sometimes separates out.
Squeeze the lime's juice into the soup.
Ladle the soup into bowls and garnish with the spring onions and the coriander.
Taste for seasoning and adjust if necessary.
My family is Jewish, so I've grown up believing in the almost mystical powers of chicken soup. My earliest experiences of chicken soup involved classic clear broth with golden slices of carrot, shreds of chicken and matzoh balls (dumplings made of matzoh meal and a mixture of flavourings). These days, I'm much more likely to tuck into a bowlful of my version of a Thai soup called Tom Khar Gai, which I love for its sharp citrus flavours, its chilli heat and the soothing sweetness of the coconut milk.
I think I may have mentioned how much I love asparagus when it's in season. One of my favourite things to do with the stuff (apart from smother it in molten butter, which is a no-no at the moment) is to make a pancetta and asparagus salad (a tip I picked up from Harry at Borough Market's Wild Mushroom Company, aka Tony Booth's).
When I was a kid I can remember my father looking forward to the asparagus season all year. When it arrived, he'd tuck into a plateful of steamed asparagus (usually served with melted butter) every day for about six weeks, before the asparagus disappeared from the greengrocer's shelves for another year.
