I will now talk about one of my favorite types of soup, vegetable soup. Vegetable soup is often looked down upon by closed-minded meat lovers who attack any plant-based dish as a product of superficial vegetarianism. This is simply incorrect and preventing you from enjoying a wide variety of plant-based foods.
Part. I - The Stock
I digress—the most important aspect of a good vegetable soup is the stock. Now—I know you meat enthusiasts will like this—but making a full-bodied stock packed with savory/umami flavors is undoubtedly harder without the use of animal products. Now, I will say that you can make a vegetable soup with animal products; however, it is not a necessity. The key to avoiding this is by using dried mushrooms. Mushrooms are packets of umami, and therefore paramount to achieving a delicious stock. Although you can use fresh mushrooms, dried mushrooms are preferable as their flavor becomes more concentrated and potent when dried.
Another umami-rich ingredient is dried sea kelp, commonly known as kombu. Kombu goes a long way, just 2 4-inch pieces or the equivalent is enough for a full quart of water. It is hard to explain the flavor imparted by kombu, so I’ll provide an example:
Dashi is the base stock used in traditional Japanese cuisine. Miso Soup, for example, is made using dashi. Dashi is traditionally made using kombu and katsuobushi (dried bonito flakes). So, if you decide to use animal-products, I’d recommend using katsuobushi and/or fish sauce.
To start, add mixed vegetables (i.e. carrots, celery, onions, garlic, etc.), other fresh aromatics (I.e. lemongrass, rosemary, thyme, etc.), whole black peppercorns, and other dried aromatics of your choice (i.e. fennel seeds, dried chili peppers, anise, etc.) to a hot, dry stock pot. The contents should make up about a fourth of the pot. Toast the stock vegetables and aromatics until they release a strong bouquet of aroma—about 1-3 minutes on medium-high heat. This is the heart and soul of your stock.
Next, add water until the contents make up a little over 3/4 of the pot. Add kombu and bay leaves to the water, and turn the stove to high heat. Once the stock boils, turn the stove to low and let it simmer with a slightly skewed lid to avoid pressure buildup. Now you play the waiting game—have a drink, watch tv, go for a walk—I don’t care, but don’t keep checking the stock like neurotic parents with their children. Just like the children of “helicopter parents,” if you don’t give the stock time to grow on its own, it won’t develop properly. To put it more concisely, do not stir the stock as it can break down the vegetables, releasing bitter flavors. The length of the simmering process is, luckily for you, far shorter than meat stock: about 1 hour for optimal flavor extraction; however, if you plan on adding the optional katsuobushi and/or fish sauce, do so around 45 minutes into the simmering process.
The final component to making your stock is simply straining the solids through a mesh strainer. Now that you have a clean stock, add salt until you can taste the full spectrum of flavor. Note that you should not fully salt the stock as you may wish to add other salty ingredients to the soup; however, even the bare-minimum is more salt than you’d think—roughly 1 teaspoon for every quart of stock. But if I’m being honest, I never measure salt in this way—my recommendation, just treat a hefty pinch as a teaspoon.
Keeping fluidity and eliminating overly analytical cooking is key to preserving that desired homemade and comforting flavor. While measuring salt with utensils versus your hand seems trivial, actions like these build up, ruining the flow of your cooking and, in turn, the comforting flavor profile. The mood of the chef will be reflected in the food: great chefs have strong emotional connections to food, and this connection translates to their cooking.