Smoky Paprika Pumpkin Soup

Today has been the pits. Nothing in particular, just work stuff. It could possibly be that I'm just super irritable today, for reasons that I can not seem to deduce. On my lunch, I normally run for an hour...today...I laid on the ultrasound bed and watched a Bones on my iPhone. It was pretty pathetic but honestly, quite nice. Well anyways, my day was made exponentially better by the discovery of Season 5 Parks & Recreation being added to Netflix! Woot, woot! I had to share this wonderful news, in case some readers are Parks & Rec fans and they were uninformed. Of course, I realize most people just watch it on the actual TV, but I was late on to that boat so I am forced to watch it on Netflix. This is very exciting news for Todd and I. Almost as exciting as this pumpkin soup!

Why is this soup so exciting? Two reasons. For one, I'm not really too experienced with pumpkin. Okay, let's be real, before this recipe, I had never even cooked with it! I'm talking like a real, round, actual pumpkin. Not canned pumpkin. This soup was a pretty rad way to get into. I'm in love! So, clearly, this was very exciting for me.

And two, this soup is so, so lovely and absolutely delectable. It is completely velvety, creamy and melts in one rich, smoky, pumpkin packed bite in the mouth. It has made the list as one of my all-time favorite soups and is just perfect for the season! So if you've been on the fence about making a pumpkin soup (it's kinda weird, right?), start out with this recipe and you won't be disappointed! 

Smoky Paprika Pumpkin Soup

Inspired by Verses From My Kitchen

Serves 6

• 1 small pumpkin (about 2 lbs.) peeled and cubed
• 2 Tbsp. olive oil
• 1 medium red onion, diced
• 1 garlic clove, sliced
• 4 whole sprigs of thyme (or additional dried)
• 1/2 tsp. dried thyme
• 1 15 oz. can of full-fat coconut milk
• 2 cups vegetable broth
• 2 Tbsp. fresh lime juice
• 1 Tbsp. smoked paprika
• 1/8 tsp. chipotle chili powder (to taste)
• 1/4 tsp. kosher salt
• sprinkle of ground black pepper
• pepitas, for garnish (optional) 

Heat the oil in a large soup pot and saute the onions, garlic and thyme until fragrant, about 5 minutes. 

Meanwhile, peel the pumpkin and cut in half. I just used a potato peeler! Scoop out the seeds (roast or discard) and cube the pumpkin. 

Add in the cubed pumpkin and continue to saute for an additional 10 minutes, or until the pumpkin begins to just become softened. Then, add in the remaining ingredients and simmer over medium heat for about 15 minutes or until the pumpkin can be easily pierced with a fork. 

Transfer carefully to a blender and whiz on high until silky and smooth. Make sure to allow the blender to vent at the lid or else you could have a hot soup explosion, and that's never good. It's never happened to me, but I've heard stories.

Serve hot with additional thyme, paprika and pepitas, if you wish! 

Grumpy, and listening to The Heavy – How You Like Me Now

This is me...

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A Modest Vegetable Soup

Ah, modesty. As a mammographer, I find modesty a very intriguing thing. If you've ever had a mammogram you know what I mean. Most times I feel like I'm an exceedingly simple, and modest person. My personality is less than flashy, I abhor attention, my wardrobe is comprised of exceptionally neutral colors (okay...I dress in grey/brown/black monochromes, and at one time it truly was the center of an intervention by my friends in high school). In addition, I certainly ain't showin' the general public any part of  my humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps. Don't check it out! My college dorm mate was obsessed with this song. Yet, in a sense I feel like sometimes I am completely lacking in modesty. Reason being...I would join a nudist camp in a heartbeat. It would probably be a pretty unpopular idea here in Alaska, and thus, I don't expect this to be a reality anytime soon. It's something profoundly organic and pure,  being naked. Not the vulgar kind, mind you, get your head out of the gutter. Think tasteful nude art, or you know just going-about-their-business everyday rural Africans. True nudity...exclusive of vulgarity is fine by me. Nudity in essence is not vulgar, unless if perhaps in an inappropriate place, etc, etc. I know. Okay, that's enough with the nudity. I'm in the medical profession, I think we're dulled to it.

My point is (before I got off track) that like myself, this Modest Vegetable Soup is a contradiction. Yes, this soup is simple and yes it is modest. However, at the same time it is also brimming with flavor, powerfully pure and fresh. And simple.

A Modest Vegetable Soup

Inspired by Scandi-Home

Serves 3

• 1 Tbsp. olive oil
• 1 medium yellow onion, diced
• 1 tsp. ground cumin
• 1 tsp. ground coriander
• 1 tsp. paprika
• 2 large vine tomatoes, diced
• 1 (14.5 oz) can of chickpeas
• 1 bunch of collard greens, chopped (feel free to substitute with kale, swiss chard, etc.)
• 32 oz vegetable stock
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 1/2 tsp. pepper

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In a large soup pot heat olive oil. Add diced onion and saute until tender, about 5 minutes. Next, add cumin, coriander and paprika and stir about. Dice up the tomatoes and add to pot as well. Open up the can of chickpeas, strain and rinse well, then add to the pot along with the chopped collard greens. Any leafy green will do, so use what's on hand. I choose collard greens because I like the nice chew they lend but if you prefer a softer bite, use spinach. Add the vegetable stock to the party. Bring this fine  brew to a boil, then turn down to low and simmer for 15 minutes, uncovered. When finished simmering, (why so angry, soup?) add salt and pepper.

Bob stares at me like this, pretty much the entire time I'm cooking. Just lurking, you know?

Anyways, divide soup into three bowls and serve hot. Feel free to pretend you're a peasant or something. It's kind of a peasantish soup and I don't know, it's something I would have done as a kid. I had a great time playing pretend. Or pretend you're in a nudist camp. Just make sure to draw the curtains first.

For fun, this is my old-ass bottle of coriander. Don't worry, I've been refilling it! It' s just fun. Keep those old spice bottles, wash them carefully and refill them. Recycled and vintage, hurray! Bonus points if it was Grandma's.