I often feel like a tiny speck of nothingness on this planet, but I never feel physically smaller than when I’m at Costco, heaving a cart that’s twice the width of a coffin through the warehouse. On the last trip, I decided that what I needed to buy — other than a bag of six avocados, 50 pounds of sidewalk salt, and two pounds of garlic — was a 106-ounce can of Nina whole tomatoes for $6.
“I’ll make so much tomato soup,” I told myself. The can was cute — I liked the look of Nina, basking in the Italian sun, while her (multiple) lovers wondered where the hell she was — and figured that after I made a vat of tomato soup, I could turn the can into a planter, or a bathroom trash can, or something. There is no confidence like that of the casual DIYer.
As for the tomato soup, I wanted something classic. The ideal is soup that’s reminiscent of Campbell’s, but better. Smooth, creamy, rich in tomato flavor.
My favorite recipe is from Abra Beren’s phenomenal vegetable-loving cookbook Ruffage, where it’s a riff on a recipe for garlic confit (page 218). You’d almost flip the page and miss it if you weren’t paying attention. But the simple recipe makes an unforgettable soup. Part of that is the presence of red pepper flakes, whose heat brings the tomato to life, while also being tempered by a good dose of cream. (I think cream is necessary with tomato soup to cut through the acidity. If you’re dairy-free, add a big potato or two! Seriously, it makes puréed soups so creamy.) But the garlic confit is the real secret. It brings a deep, roasted flavor and a sweet garlickyness you can’t deny.
After making the tomato soup, I spent a week enjoying it in different ways — paired with grilled cheese for dinner, with a side of Cheez-Its for lunch. I added avocado one day, chile crisp the next. When I discovered wilted spinach in the fridge, I chopped that up and added it to the soup. If you’d like to up the protein, you could add a plop of cottage cheese or a spoonful of white beans. If you’re a dreamer, you could consider buttered popcorn as a crouton?
I tweaked Abra’s recipe, adding tomato paste to oomph the tomato flavor and scaling up for 106 absurd ounces of tomatoes. (That’s more than seven of the usual 14.5-ounce cans.) There are only two of us at home — my husband and me — but after a Sunday of soup-making, I now have a freezer stash of soup, waiting for a wintry Michigan evening. Of which I’ll have plenty.
In case that’s way too much soup for you, I included a mini ingredient list below the big one. Same method.
P.S. The veggie-forward lasagna we can’t stop making and the OG tomato sandwich.
