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The recent MLFB Oktoberfest/Soup Exchange (which, sadly, I was just too busy to attend) reminded me of a truly weird German soup I once had.

My junior year in high school, I went to Munich with part of my German language class. It was a great trip–my first time on a trip without my parents, my first plane trip, my first time out of the country (for Michiganians, Canada doesn’t count)–but not exactly a life-changing culinary experience. Other than lots of trips to McD’s for “ein Big Mäc und eine grosse Sprite, bitte” (probably the only words of “German” I spoke all trip), all I can really remember is:

– lots of (not particularly good) wiener schnitzel, until our tour guides finally convinced the hostel kitchen to make us something, anything else (and then we got plain baked chicken);

– a dude, from the rowdy bunch of kids from another school in our tour group, who suddenly exclaimed, outraged, about the leaf that had fallen into his tomato soup–to be fair, we were lunching alfresco, but it wasn’t from the tree branches hanging overhead–it was a bay leaf garnish (his friends probably still aren’t letting him live that one down);

– pancake soup.

Yep, you read that right–pancake soup. Literally. I’m pretty sure it was just ribbons of sliced-up pancakes floating in chicken broth. I’d love to say this was unexpectedly delicious, but, well, no. It was just plain weird. And, much as I love making soup, really not something I’ve ever had a yen to replicate.

The following, however, is a favorite in my house–it’s adapted slightly from a recipe in The Daily Soup Cookbook (Hyperion, 1999), of the New York restaurant of the same name. The book is a terrific little collection of soups, of all sorts–every fall, when I start to crave soup again, I dig it out, pore over it until I’m salivating, and make all kinds of grand plans. So far, I’ve only made maybe half a dozen of 200 or so recipes in the book, but maybe I’ll get with it this year. (That, and maybe one of these days I’ll remember to take a photo or two of the things I cook–what can I say, I’m new to this. Trust me–this makes a very pretty, not to mention delicious, bowl of soup.)

Corn Chowder with (or without) Cilantro (the way I make it)

I know corn chowder may not sound exciting, but this one is a pretty exemplary member of the genre–it’s not thick and gloppy, like so many others, and in every spoonful you get this terrific combo of sweet, spicy, tangy, creamy, and just corn, pure and simple. The original recipe is intended to be served cold, which would be fine, but I like to heat mine up just a touch.

4 cups corn kernels, fresh or frozen
6-8 cups veggie stock or water (if you’re really ambitious, you can make corn stock with the leftover corn cobs, if you’re using fresh corn–just simmer them for 30 minutes in the stock/water before combining it with the corn kernels)
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 chipotle chile in adobo, minced, with 1/2 tsp. sauce
2 Tbsp sugar
2 1/2 tsp kosher salt
2 red bell peppers, seeded and diced
1 cup buttermilk
1 cup half and half
1 Tbsp lime juice
1/2 cup chopped scallions
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro (optional)

Dump corn kernels into a large stockpot and add enough stock/water to cover. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes. (At this point, if you like your soup with a bit of chew to it, pull out 1-2 cups of the cooked corn and reserve, to add back in after the pureeing step.) Add garlic, chipotle, sugar and salt, and puree until smooth, either in a jar blender (being very careful–this is hot liquid you’re handling, after all) or using a stick blender (my personal preference). Stir in red peppers, scallions, buttermilk, half and half, cilantro, if using, and lime juice. Pour into a large bowl and refrigerate, if you’d like to eat the soup cold–otherwise, just ladle into bowls and serve.

Makes approx. 10 cups