Improvising Indian: Chickpeas and Greens Simmered in Yogurt

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I would love to invite a group of friends to my apartment for an Indian feast. I'd to try the tandoori chicken from a recent Cook's Illustrated (recipe here on The Bitten Word), charred under the broiler with a coating of garam masala, ginger, and chili powder. Perhaps I'd even make an attempt at naan with onion or garlic and a mango salsa. For dessert, an assortment of tropical sorbets, or maybe a coconut tapioca?

But when I saw a recipe for spinach simmered in yogurt with turmeric and coriander in last month's Food and Wine, I didn't want to wait for a big party. Perhaps it's end-of-winter braised-meat fatigue, or a vitamin deficiency as the cold weather drags on, but a bowl of greens is an appealing supper all on its own to me. Especially after trudging home through the slushy puddles overflowing every gutter in the city.

The very first mesclun leaves are appearing at the Union Square farmer's market, but I needed piles, since greens cook down to nothing. Don't underestimate—you probably need a bunch of greens per person if you're serving this as a main course. And if even if not, since it's delicious. I picked out spinach and nice-looking mustard greens at Whole Foods. To make it a bit more substantial, I added two cans of chickpeas for a tangy spin on chana saag. (I increased and varied the spices too after a taste—chickpeas take quite a bit of spice.)


I would not use frozen spinach for this, even if someone else gives you permission. Since the dish only simmers for a few minutes, fresh greens elevate it above takeout Indian. The mustard greens are pleasantly potent, and the spinach stays sweet and fresh. You could probably make this ahead, as well, cooking the spices and chickpeas and wilting the greens, then just combining it all with the yogurt to warm through when your guests arrive.



Chickpeas and Greens Simmered in Yogurt
Serves 2-3 as a main course
Inspired by Food and Wine, February 2009

2 bunches spinach, rinsed carefully
1 large bunch mustard greens
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 yellow onion, minced
5 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 teaspoon chile flakes
2 teaspoons ground coriander
2 teaspoons turmeric
1 teaspoon garam masala
1 teaspoon curry powder
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, chopped
2 cans chickpeas, rinsed and drained
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2 cups plain whole-milk yogurt
Salt

Carefully wash spinach and mustard greens and place in a large pot. The water clinging to the leaves will help steam the greens. Cook, covered, over moderate heat until barely wilted, stirring occasionally. Transfer to colander. Press excess water out of greens and set aside to cool. Coarsely chop.

Heat the oil over medium heat in a dutch oven, add the onion and saute until translucent. Add garlic and chile flakes and cook until fragrant. Add coriander, turmeric, garam masala, curry powder, and ginger, and toast one minute, stirring. Add the chickpeas and tomato paste, tossing to coat. Add 1/2 cup water to deglaze, and cook until evaporated. Add another 1/2 cup water, and cook 20 minutes, stirring frequently. When garbanzos are tender, lower the heat and add chopped greens and yogurt to the pot, stirring, five minutes, until the yogurt begins to separate. Season generously with salt and serve with rice.

You Salty Tart: Fresh Plum Tart with Goat Cheese and Walnut-Thyme Streusel

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Salty desserts are all the rage. It seems we're not satisfied anymore with simple sweets, we need them with smokey bacon! and Maldon salt! (And infused with the cereal-milk of our childhood dreams, but I haven't tried that yet.)

This tart isn't a brand-new invention, though—it's from a 2003 Bon Appetit recipe. Anticipating the trend, I guess.

It's a fun, light-feeling dessert, with a nutty crust and fresh, uncooked goat cheese and ricotta filling. If you wait for plums to be in season, you'll get even tastier results. It's quite impressive-looking, and doesn't even require that you make pie crust!


The thing about salt in desserts, though, is that you have to be careful. One minute, you're fun and edgy, but a few pinches of Maldon later, you're serving pretzels with post-dinner coffee. So I've adjusted the salt a little in the recipe below. The sprinkle of Maldon or fleur de sel on top of the streusel is great, but the ricotta filling really didn't need it.


Plum Tart with Goat Cheese and Walnut-Thyme Streusel
Adapted from Bon Appetit

For the crust
1 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1/2 cup walnuts (about 2 ounces)
1/4 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
7 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1 egg yolk

For the streusel
1 cup all purpose flour
2/3 cup walnuts (about 3 ounces)
1/3 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1/3 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
1/2 cup (1 stick) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

Filling and Topping
8 ounces soft fresh goat cheese
8 ounces (1 cup) whole-milk ricotta cheese
3 tablespoons honey
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
Pinch of freshly ground black pepper

4 large plums (about 1 pound), halved, pitted, cut into 1/4-inch-thick wedges
1/4 teaspoon fleur de sel (I used Maldon sea salt) for garnish

For crust:
Blend first 4 ingredients in processor until nuts are finely ground. If you don't have a food processor, chop nuts finely and add first 4 ingredients to a large bowl, blending with a pastry blender. Add butter; blend until coarse meal forms. Add egg yolk; blend until moist clumps form. Press dough onto bottom and up sides of 9-inch-diameter tart pan with removable bottom. Cover; chill 1 hour.

For streusel:
Preheat oven to 350°F. Blend flour, walnuts, both sugars, coarse salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cardamom in processor until nuts are finely ground. (or chop nuts and use pastry blender in a large bowl.) Add thyme and blend 5 seconds. Transfer mixture to medium bowl. Add butter. Using fingertips, rub in until small moist clumps form.

Spread streusel mixture on rimmed baking sheet. Bake 8 minutes. Stir, then continue baking until golden brown, about 7 minutes longer. Cool streusel completely (mixture will become crisp).

For filling and topping:
Combine both cheeses, 1 tablespoon honey, 1 tablespoon oil, sugar, nutmeg, and pepper in large bowl; stir to blend well. Refrigerate while baking crust.

Preheat oven to 350°F. Line crust with foil; fill with dried beans or pie weights. Bake crust until sides are set, about 15 minutes. Remove foil and beans. Continue to bake crust until golden brown, pressing with back of fork if crust bubbles, about 15 minutes longer. Cool crust completely.

Spread cheese filling in crust. Arrange plums in concentric circles atop filling, leaving 3/4-inch plain border. Sprinkle streusel lightly over tart. Refrigerate tart at least 1 hour and up to 4 hours.

Remove pan sides; place tart on platter. Drizzle with 2 tablespoons honey and 2 tablespoons oil; sprinkle with fleur de sel. Cut tart into wedges.

Killer Porcini Mushroom Tomato Sauce: Satisfying Vegetarian for a Crowd

When you make dinner for nine people in a tiny apartment (or anywhere), it is not always perfect. The lasagna noodles may overcook and turn out a bit floppy, and you may run out of cheese for the topping. The pictures may be blurry and messy. But it's really just lucky you have enough chairs. And your guests are enjoying meeting each other, and there's plenty of wine.


While I'm not going to instruct you to recreate this exact lasagna, I wanted to share with you the recipe for the sauce I used. Because it's killer. It's earthy and deeply flavored, with the richness and strength of a heavy meat sauce, without any of the meat. Dried porcini mushrooms and their soaking liquid, along with an entire bottle of wine turn regular marinara into dinner-party material. It impressed vegetarians and carnivores alike. And this is not just a lasagna ingredient: this would be great on gnocchi or tagliatelle or piled onto shredded spaghetti squash and/or bitter greens.

Set aside a day to make this giant pot of sauce, and save it in portions in your freezer for a quick meal. It can simmer all day, and your patience will be rewarded.

A few notes on ingredients: I used an inexpensive ($5) Shiraz for this. Be sure to taste a sip to make sure the bottle is good before adding it to your sauce. Because wouldn't it be sad if the wine ruined it all! Also, I added one jar of pre-made Barilla marinara to the sauce base. I realize this is cheating, but I find it evens out the edges a little, and provides a neutral base for your fresh flavorings.


Killer Porcini Mushroom Tomato Sauce

1 oz porcini mushrooms
2 cups water
2 yellow onions, chopped
1/2 T fennel seeds
2 T tomato paste
6 cloves garlic, smashed and chopped
1/2 tsp fresh rosemary, chopped
1/2 tsp dried basil
1 large portobello mushroom, chopped
salt and pepper
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 bottle dry red wine (I used Shiraz)
1 28-oz can crushed tomatoes
1 28-oz can diced tomatoes
1 jar (24 oz) prepared marinara sauce (I used Barilla)
1/4 cup fresh oregano leaves

Soak porcini mushrooms in 2 cups boiling water for 30 minutes. Rinse porcini and chop, saving liquid. Pour liquid through a strainer lined with a paper towel to remove dirt and save. Meanwhile, saute onions in a large (at least 6 quart) heavy dutch oven over medium low, stirring often, about 20 minutes until translucent and beginning to color. Add fennel seeds and tomato paste, stir and let caramelize for a minute. Add garlic, rosemary, basil, and portobello mushroom, saute 1 minute more. Add a pinch of salt and several grinds of fresh pepper along with red pepper flakes.

Pour 2 cups of wine into the pan to deglaze, stir and scrape browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Cook until wine evaporates. Add both cans of tomatoes and their liquid along with prepared marinara. Add chopped porcini along with half their liquid. Let simmer (it should be just lightly bubbling) until reduced slightly, about 20 minutes, then add another cup of wine and the remaining porcini liquid. Continue cooking and adding wine a cup at a time until entire bottle has been added. This could take an hour.

Let simmer on very low heat at least 2 more hours and up to six, stirring occasionally. When ready to serve, stir in fresh oregano leaves. Taste for seasoning.

Lady Marmalade: Blood Orange Marmalade

So, you know how I've been going on and on about winter citrus and its restorative effects on the dying winter soul? Well, let me tell you. I have not been returning the favor--I've had a whole pile of Meyer lemons and blood oranges languishing in my refrigerator for weeks, barely hanging on to this mortal coil. It got to the point where my guilt was so significant that I embarked upon the unthinkable: I decided to make marmalade.

This was An Event for two major reasons:

1. I've never made jam of any sort
2. Despite being half English, I've never really had much of a taste for the stuff.

However! When one is talking wasted citrus, one must rise to the unexpected challenge! Or attempt to, anyway. I'll admit it: it took me a few tries to get this one right. I didn't have a real recipe to work with, and I'd never worked with pectin; I also failed to properly measure the amount of fruit I was using, so I ended up with marmalade soup at the end of the first cooking. Cooking it twice, while probably not ideal, didn't seem to hurt the concoction too much. If anything, I think it may have intensified the citrus flavor.

Things I learned:

• Using only the zest of the orange (discarding the pith and most of the rind) cut the bitterness factor significantly while still allowing the extreme...well...citrusness of the fruit to really shine.
• Marmalade is far more delicious than I'd given it credit for (though, admittedly, my marmalade may not be...well...traditional.)
• Many marmalade recipes call for a metric shedload of sugar. I believe that if you boil longer, you can get a similar effect without as much. I mean, 7 cups? Really?
• Canning and jarring and jamming is nowhere near as daunting as I'd once thought. All you need are a big pot, a pair of tongs, a spatula (for getting the filled jars in and out) and a good book to read while you stir the pot.
  

Blood orange marmalade

8 Whole blood oranges.
3 Meyer lemons, sliced thinly
4c sugar
Pectin (I used one pouch of Certo brand liquid pectin, by Sure-jell)

1. Remove the outer layer of zest from the orange (if you want the marmalade texture, do this with a vegetable peeler; if you're lazy like me, you can use your microplane), taking care not to get too much of the bitter white layer beneath. Set the zest aside.
2. Peel the oranges and then slice them thinly and chop them roughly. remove any tough pith or seeds that you encounter, but save as much of the juice as you can!
3. Put the oranges and lemons in a deep saucepan; add the pectin and let sit for a moment.
   
4. Add the zest.
5. Add the sugar and then bring the contents of the pan up to a boil. Boil, boil, boil away (stirring as much as you can reasonably bear) merrily until it's thick, syrupy, and passes the spoon test.

To preserve your marmalade:

1. Get a bunch of canning jars.
2. Wash them in hot, soapy water
3. Boil them mercilessly for about 15 minutes, then remove them from the pot.
4. Ladle your marmalade into your clean, sterilized jars. Gently seal the tops and boil them at a rollicking, high temperature (with at least 1 inch of water covering them) for 5 more minutes. Turn off the heat, but leave the jars in there until the water is lukewarm (I tend to leave the jars in the waterbath overnight). This should activate the vacuum seal on the jar, characterized by the sort of dip in the middle. If you don't have a vacuum seal by the time the water cools, remove the jar and try again with a new lid.
   

Pancakes for Dinner: Vegetarian Pa Jeon

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February 24th was International Pancake Day. And I made these tasty Korean pancakes for dinner. But it was totally a coincidence.

When I started looking at recipes for Pa Jeon, I was not even aware of the existence of Pancake Day, which apparently arose from an old tradition of using up eggs and fat before Lent begins. But here I am with a belly full of pancakes. And you should make these for dinner, pancake day or no.

It's a great tight-budget recipe, using a few pantry ingredients and giving you an opportunity to clean out the fridge. Depending on what you have around, these basically are free. Or, like, five dollars, max. Got some extra zucchini? Slice into matchsticks and throw it in. A few shrimp languishing in your freezer? Thaw, chop and add. I did a vegetarian version, but you could stir leftover cooked meat into the batter if you've got some around. Bits of sweet red peppers would be great, too. The only real essentials are a batter (preferably made with half rice flour, which gives it a sweetness and lightness, as well as crispy edges) and a vinegary dipping sauce.


I found the rice flour at a local asian market (M2M, in case you're in New York.) The package just says "Rice Powder" and it looks a little suspicious, but it tasted great and I've lived to tell the tale. It wouldn't shock me if Whole Foods had some, as well, maybe in the gluten-free section? In fact, I bet you could make these entirely gluten-free with minimal adjustment to the recipe, just subbing out the cup of wheat flour for something safely GF. Many soy sauces aren't gluten-free, though, so watch out for that.

While I was making these for the first time, I was struck by the similarity to latkes, an old favorite. Even down to the trick of adding a bit of seltzer to fluff up the batter! (Trick courtesy Cathy of Not Eating Out in New York.) These are a bit more soft and pillowy, though. Perhaps we should try dipping latkes in ginger-vinegar sauce. Now that's fusion.


Vegetarian Korean Pancakes (Pa Jeon)
adapted from Mark Bittman
Serves 2

For pa jeon:
1 cup all purpose flour
1 cup rice flour
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 1/2 cups cold unflavored seltzer water
1 tablespoon canola oil, plus extra for the pan
1 cup garlic chives (scallions are ok), sliced in 2-inch lengths
1/2 cup carrots, peeled cut into thin matchsticks (if you grate them, they disappear into the batter)
1/2 cup shitake mushrooms, sliced
1 tablespoon prepared kimchi, chopped, plus additional for serving

For vinegar dipping sauce:
1/4 cup soy sauce
3 tablespoons rice vinegar (unseasoned)
1/4 teaspoon sesame oil
1 teaspoon sugar
2 teaspoons minced or grated fresh ginger
1 teaspoon toasted sesame seeds

To prepare dipping sauce, stir first first four ingredients in a bowl until sugar dissolves. Add ginger and stir, crushing slighly against the sides of the bowl. Let macerate, stir in sesame seeds when you're ready to serve.

In a large bowl, gently mix flours, eggs, seltzer, and oil until smooth. Let rest a few minutes while you prepare the vegetables. Stir in vegetables, including kimchi, tossing to coat. Heat a large seasoned cast iron pan over medium heat and coat with a bit of oil. When pan is hot, drop batter with a ladle to form 4 or five pancakes (smaller pancakes are easier to flip than large.) Spread out batter so it's no more than a half-inch thick. Turn heat down to medium-low. Cook about 4 minutes, flipping when pancake no longer resists, then cook about 4 minutes on the other side. Pancake should be crispy and brown, with no liquid inside. Remove to a plate. Repeat with remaining batter.

Serve hot with vinegar dipping sauce, extra kimchi, and hot sauce, if desired.

A shot of spice: Tequila-lime Shrimp with Spicy Corn and Roasted Red Pepper Risotto

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I got a phone call the other day from my old college roommate, Hannah. She's been living in Grozny and Sierra Leone since 2004, but she's working in New York for a few months. She was checking out apartments from Brooklyn to the Upper East side, looking for a room to sublet during her time in the city.

"I'm in your neighborhood, I think," she said, and we made plans to meet up after she saw the room. She called back two minutes later. "Um, when I said in your neighborhood, I meant in your building," she said. "Your name is on the mailbox downstairs." Sure enough, the room that she'd found randomly on craigslist was just two floors down from me! So for two months, we will pretend to be roommates again, and catch up after being many, many miles apart since graduation.


This meal, which we made with another college friend/former roommate (the lovely Jackie), was perfect for collaborative cooking. (I can take no credit for the recipe selection—Jackie chose these, and they were winners.)

The three of us took turns stirring while we drank some wine—none of the labor was too taxing. At the last minute, when the risotto has softened adequately, the shrimp cook up quick in a pan (or a grill, if you have it.)

Studded with corn and peppers and spiked with spice, this dish is not your mama's risotto. It has a real kick to it, balanced by the sweetness of red peppers and shrimp. Keep a glass of water (or a beer) handy.


Spicy Corn and Roasted Red Pepper Risotto
Adapted from Cooking Light

Yield: 4 servings

1 3/4 cups water
3 1/2 cups low-salt vegetable or chicken broth or stock
2 teaspoons olive oil
1 cup uncooked Arborio or other short-grain rice
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 cup thinly sliced scallions
3/4 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese
1 jalapeno, chopped, seeds removed
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon hot sauce
2 cups frozen whole-kernel corn
3/4 cup chopped bottled roasted red bell peppers, removed from liquid

Combine water and broth in a medium pot and bring to a low simmer. Keep warm over low heat.

In a large saucepan, heat oil. Add rice, cumin, coriander, garlic, and jalapeno, sauté for one to two minutes until rice is slightly translucent. Stir in 1/2 cup of the broth mixture, cook until liquid is nearly absorbed, stirring constantly. Gradually add remaining broth, half a cup at a time, waiting and stirring until broth is absorbed before adding more. Cook about 20 minutes total—it's possible you may not need all of the liquid. Taste rice, it should be tender. Stir in scallions, cheese, hot sauce, corn (still forzen!) and roasted peppers. Cook and stir 3 minutes, until heated through. Top with Tequila-lime shrimp.

Tequila-Lime Shrimp
adapted from Health

2 tablespoons tequila
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
2 teaspoons olive oil
1 teaspoon bottled hot sauce
2 garlic cloves, minced
24 large shrimp, peeled and deveined, with tails on (about 1 1/4 pounds)
lime wedges for serving

After your risotto (see recipe above) has been cooking awhile, combine tequila, lime juice, olive oil, hot sauce, and garlic in a large tupperware container. Add shrimp, toss to coat, let stand ten minutes while you cook the risotto. Heat a large cast iron pan, grease with a small amount of olive oil. Add shrimp (cook in several batches if necessary.) Cook a few minutes per side until just opaque. Serve on top of risotto with lime wedges.

L'Avventura!

Hello, ducks!

I'm jaunting off on a European adventure in, oh, twenty minutes, which means I'll be out of pocket for the next couple of weeks. I'll try to update from the road, but for the most part, I leave you in the lovely and capable hands of Maggie.

See you soon, lovelies!

cheers,
shiv

Almost like being in New York: Pretzel-crusted chicken

I don't know if it's a New York thing or what, but I'm mildly obsessed with the street pretzel. There's no real explanation for it; street pretzels are uniformly dry, too salty/not salty enough, and unvaryingly stale within seconds. However, slathered in mustard, they're still one of my favorite afternoon treats. They're also, for the aforementioned reasons, sometimes a little too gross for me to deal with. It's on those days that I start to consider how I can bring a slightly less scary version of those flavors into my life; it took a very long and taxing week to finally inspire me to do something about it.

I had a dim recollection of a recipe for pretzel-crusted chicken in the November or December issue of Food and Wine; though I couldn't find the actual clipping in my files, a quick spin through the interwebs turned up this, which seemed as good a place as any to start. Naturally, I didn't follow the recipe to a tee; I omitted the oil, replacing it with a buttermilk and mustard marinade, and I swapped out the chicken breasts in favor of my new favorite poultry product, boneless chicken thighs. I also added in some thyme for zing, and (unsurprisingly) a tiny bit of raw garlic (emphasis on "tiny"). The alterations were minor, but the impact was massive--what I ended up with was a low fat powerhouse of flavor: oven baked, tangy, zingy, crunchy, moist and with far more nutritional merit than your average street pretzel.



Flavor-wise, I am very happy with how this turned out; the texture was also very pleasing...though I'll admit: next time, I'm probably going to go whole hog and pulverize the damn pretzels with a hammer. Food processors are great and all, but sometimes you need to work up an appetite, you know?

Pretzel-crusted honey mustard chicken
Adapted from Food and Wine, November 2008

1/2 lb hard pretzels, coarsely crushed
3/4c buttermilk
1/2 c wholegrain mustard
1/8 c honey
1 very, very small clove garlic (the sort that lurks near the heart of the bulb), finely chopped
2 tbsp fresh thyme, chopped
salt and pepper
6 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
1 egg, lightly beaten

1. Prepare your marinade: combine buttermilk, mustard, honey, thyme, salt and pepper. Mis thorougly and then combine with chicken in a ziptop bag. Marinate in the fridge for up to a day.
2. Smash the pretzels in your food processor (or with a hammer, if you've had a bad week). You should have fine crumbs and large chunks. Put in a shallow bowl and set aside.
   
3. When you're ready to cook, preheat your oven to 400F. Remove the chicken from the fridge and from the marinade; set aside. Combine egg with marinade and mix thoroughly; use this mixture to dredge the chicken thighs before coating them in pretzel chunks. Be sure to coat thoroughly!
4. Bake in the upper third of your oven for 20 to 25 minutes, or until the chicken's juices run clear.
5. Optional: make a little sauce out of buttermilk, mustard and honey. DO NOT USE LEFTOVER MARINADE. Unless you like salmonella.
   

Spicy and Quick: Chipotle Tortilla Soup

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What do we eat when we're not eating macaroni and cheese?

Leftover macaroni and cheese.

When that's (finally) gone, it's time for something lighter and brighter. Something spicy enough to clear out the sinuses. And something Matt can easily reheat for a quick bite before heading out to teach his nighttime class at NYU. (I'm sure the girls would all have crushes on him while he explains Matlab wearing his cute little corduroy jacket...if there were any girls in these sorts of classes.)

I am not going to claim that this recipe is one bit authentic. But it's slightly better than the recipe my mother picked up at Trader Joe's once: dump a container of salsa, a can of beans, a can of corn, and some broth in a pot, stir. And it really does the trick, quickly and cheaply—about five dollars a person, maybe less if you don't have to shop in Manhattan.

You could make a vegetarian version with veggie broth, though I used a container of turkey broth that's been in my cupboard awhile. I know! I'm all out of homemade stock. But given the smoked chiles and the kick of acidity from lime and tomatillo, this is flavorful enough with the boxed stuff. Not that I'd stop you if you have real stock to spare.

If you're not a huge fan of spicy, I'd dial down the chili powder and red pepper flakes but keep the chipotle, which gives the broth a lovely smokey flavor. And fast. Sometimes you just need the kind of dinner that goes from pantry to table in half an hour. We ate huge bowls full along with sweet corn bread (I know, how gauche) until we were stuffed.


Quick Chipotle Tortilla Soup
serves four

2 small onions, chopped
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 cloves garlic, smashed and sliced
1 tablespoon paprika
2 tsp ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon chili powder
1 teaspoon dried oregano
dash red pepper flakes (optional)
1 qt low-salt stock or broth
3 chipotle chiles in adobo (about half a can), chopped
2 14-oz or 1 28-oz cans fire-roasted diced tomatoes, including liquid
1/4 cup water (I just add this to the empty tomato cans to clean out the remains)
1 can cannelini beans, rinsed and drained
10 oz frozen corn kernels (one package)
3 tomatillos, chopped
1/2 red pepper, chopped
juice of two small limes
1/4 cup cilantro, chopped

for serving:
1 avocado
handful cilantro, chopped
several handfuls tortilla chips
queso fresco (if unavailable, use mild feta or jack cheese)
lime wedges

In a large dutch oven or heavy soup pot, saute chopped onion in olive oil until translucent. Add garlic, paprika, cumin, coriander, chili powder, oregano, and pepper flakes if using. Stir and saute until fragrant, about one minute. Add stock, chipotles, tomatoes, water, and beans. Simmer ten minutes to let flavor mingle. Add corn, tomatillos, red pepper, and lime juice, simmer an additional 15 minutes. Stir in cilantro and taste. Go light on the salt, since the tortilla chips will add a bunch. Slice avocado and divide between bowls, saving a little for a garnish. Put a handful of crumbled tortilla chips in each bowl. Ladle soup on top, and top with additional cilantro, avocado, chips, and crumbled queso fresco. Serve with lime wedges.