Violets for the Soul

It’s August, it’s hot and many of us still have a small mountain of Hurricane Beryl debris piled outside.

In the midst of recovery efforts, at times the very thought of cooking is just too much. Now that we have electricity again, the irony is that we really don’t want to turn on our ovens. So, the question is: What’s for dinner?

A recent anniversary celebration reminded me of a well-loved family recipe that doesn’t require cooking and is easy, refreshing and good for you.

I believe it was sometime in the late 1960s-early 1970s when my mother introduced us to gazpacho, a chilled soup from Spain. The cold puree of raw vegetables, tomato juice, a little olive oil and vinegar and assorted seasonings became a standby for warm-weather entertaining and weeknight family suppers.

An adventurous and accomplished cook who loved to recreate recipes from her latest Southern Living, Gourmet and Bon Appetit magazines, Mother had a flair for turning ordinary meals into something to remember. This was possibly due to the limited menus at restaurants in our central Texas town of 2,498, as well as the nonexistence of a neighborhood deli or specialty market anywhere nearby. Daddy’s tongue-in-cheek favorite French restaurant, for example, was a cafe a few miles outside of town that served “French” fried steak, French fries and French salad dressing.

We were accustomed to making it ourselves when faced with a craving for something ethnic or exotic. So as the gazpacho trend caught on and Mother began adding it to her repertoire, we gladly tasted each helping as she perfected the art of whirring up tomatoes, cucumbers and other fresh ingredients in her Waring blender. We enjoyed it with everything from delicate finger sandwiches to hearty barbecue dinners.

I’ve been thinking about Mother’s gazpacho since my husband and I celebrated our recent wedding anniversary at Chez Nous, an authentic French restaurant we like to visit on special occasions. The seemingly unlikely connection – and a “Violets for the Soul” moment – came when we ducked into the bar, having arrived a few minutes early for our reservation.

As we waited, I walked around the room reading framed newspaper clippings hanging on the walls. Suddenly, one of the headlines looked vaguely familiar. I headed for a closer look and, seeing my byline, remembered covering the restaurant 20 years ago while working at the Houston Chronicle. I was honored that the management had framed my work and felt that old thrill of seeing my name in print. This particular piece was a Tablehopping column – part-review, part-feature – for which the reporter was tasked with not only persuading the restaurant’s chef to share a recipe but also shopping for the ingredients and preparing the dish at home – there was no test kitchen at the newspaper – before entrusting it to the composing room for publication.

On that evening in 2004, Organic Andalusian Gazpacho was one of the house specials to supplement the traditional French offerings. The soup originated centuries ago in Andalusia, in southern Spain, where peasants made it with simple ingredients including stale leftover bread. Chez Nous served theirs up with an interesting story of then chef/owner Gerard Brach and his first meal in Spain, at age 12 (Stacy Simonson, executive chef, and husband Scott are the current owners). When the young chef-to-be asked what his hostess had prepared, she described it as “a salad you can drink.”

Funny how one thing leads to another. A visit to an old haunt triggered memories of a Spanish soup prepared by a French chef 20 years ago – which turned my thoughts to the gazpacho I grew to love in a household where planning, preparing and eating good food was a family pastime.

Though purists may cringe, there are as many variations on gazpacho as there are for gumbo. Mother’s version doesn’t include bread. I’ve made it time and again, on occasion substituting V-8 for the plain tomato juice and throwing in a few stalks and sprigs from the vegetable bin – celery, scallions, parsley and whatnot. I’ve experimented with different types of vinegar and added toppings that make it a meal, such as grilled shrimp and sliced avocado. Sometimes I’ll garnish each serving with chopped fresh parsley or basil, or extra minced cucumber and/or bell pepper. It’s fun to serve as an appetizer in small glasses. The possibilities are endless, and I always say to myself, “Why don’t I make this more often?”

Memories fill my mind’s eye each time I refer to this recipe Mother offered for the family cookbook my sister created and illustrated in 1978. I hope it will become one of your favorites, too.

Mother’s Gazpacho

2 large tomatoes, peeled and chopped

1 large cucumber, peeled and chopped

1 medium onion, minced

1/2 green bell pepper, minced

1 4-oz. jar pimiento, drained

1 tsp. pepper

2 12-oz. cans tomato juice

1/4 cup olive oil

1/3 cup red wine vinegar

1/4 tsp. hot sauce

1/2 tsp. salt (or to taste)

Croutons

Lemon wedges

Sour cream

Combine chopped vegetables. Place 1/2 of the mixed vegetables and 1/2 cup tomato juice in an electric blender and puree. Combine puree, remaining vegetables, tomato juice and remaining ingredients, except croutons, lemon wedges and sour cream. Chill several hours. Pour into chilled soup bowls, garnish each serving with croutons, lemon wedges and sour cream, if desired. Makes 10 6-oz. servings.