Tuscan White Bean Soup with Swiss Chard

I had this for breakfast.

I even had to fight the cat for it.

These days I am immersed in the exploits of the Polar explorer/physicist/mathematician Otto Schmidt.

While forging a new trade route, his ship - the Chelyuskin got mired in ice and sank - stranding 100 passengers (including women and babies born on board) on an iceberg for three months. I bet he would have liked some of this soup. 

It is ten degrees out and the temps are only going down. The arctic air is here - Minnesota's meteorologists are thrilled - proclaiming the first polar air of the season. Minnesota's meteorologists are a decidedly odd bunch. 

The soup hails from Tuscany via Cooking Light. You don't need a blast of arctic air to enjoy it. This will warm the cockles of your heart. And come together in 30-40 minutes. What more do you want? Grab a pot and start cooking.

Tuscan Bean Soup with Swiss Chard - adapted from Cooking Light Magazine* (Serves 4)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 yellow or white onion chopped
5 garlic cloves - minced
2 cups vegetable broth (for vegan or vegetarian) can use chicken broth
1 cup water
2 teaspoons chopped rosemary
2-15 ounce cans cannellini beans (rinsed)
1 1-2 ounce Parmesan rind (omit if Vegan - it adds substance but is also good without)
2 chopped carrots
1 bunch Swiss Chard - chopped
1/2 teaspoon red pepper
1/4 teaspoon salt - optional - the rind adds salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon white wine vinegar
6 tablespoons freshly shaved Parmesan cheese for garnish (again, omit if vegan)

*Consider using kale or spinach. Cooking Light used escarole. Mix up the beans - the seasonings. Add or subtract onions. Use shallots instead or all garlic - consider the list of ingredients a guide.

Heat a large Dutch oven or stockpot over medium heat. Add oil to pan and swirl to coat. Add onion and saute for 3-4 minutes, stirring frequently. Add garlic and stir for 30 seconds. Add broth, water, rosemary, beans, Parmesan rind and carrots and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes - until the carrot is tender and all is winningly combined. Stir in Swiss Chard (or other greens) and simmer for ten more minutes. Stir in red pepper, salt (if using), black pepper and vinegar. Remove rind. Serve, with shaved Parmesan.

Keep away from cat.

It has color, varied textures and magical properties as all soups do. And you don't need to be stranded on an iceberg to enjoy it.

Prosciutto and Plums Wards off Playwright Dementia

 I was going to post small bites every Thursday - in fact even develop a "Small Bites" day. Sigh. It's not Thursday anymore, is it? I am bingeing. With plays not food. (Although I have had my share of gnawing on pretzel rods and popping delectable McElrath dark chocolate-toffee medallions into my mouth - artisan chocolate - local - worth getting out of bed for - remind me to do a giveaway.)

 After two days of the binge, my husband comes home and I serve him an assortment of small bites. (My favorite way to eat, "I'm not hungry, honey - I'll just pick." Decidedly not his favorite way to eat.)

But when you spread creamy goat cheese over a fig spread on thick bread and top it with prosciutto, thinly sliced plums and a touch of arugula - he doesn't argue.

And when he sees the pile of manila envelops ready for the mail - he knows I'm in "business mode." And one of these days he will come home to the words "takeout, please." I belong to a marketing "playwrightbinge" website where every six months we pledge to send out a play-a-day and share the opportunities with others. Playwrights don't market well. The binge helps. And the daily e-mails from playwrights reminds me that there are humans out there. My days seem to consist of a cat and an errant mouse.

You may think sending out a play a day wouldn't be too stressful - but they have guidelines. Guidelines that cross your eyes and send you crawling through your cabinets searching for chocolate. After 30 days of guidelines you start to crave raw meat.

Guidelines
1. No contact info. Send in separate cover contact info.
2. Name on every page
3. No name - only your e-mail (only.... my e-mail IS my name)
4. Must be of Irish descent and live in PA, NJ or CT.
5. Must address human misery in a heightened, poetical neo-classical theatrical manner.
(True guidelines; I decided not to post the improbable ones out there; some guidelines are a treatise.)

Guidelines sneak up on playwrights. Have you ever found in your work that there is always a gorilla in the room? And you found out too late?

Writing the play is the satisfying part. Having different versions of the play (contact info, where the page numbers go, which has headers, which has footers) and keeping them straight for submitting  is a test of surviving "playwright guideline dementia.".

That's where small bites come in handy. I can "cook" this in five minutes and then return to my deconstructed, poetically sturm and drang play that addresses the diaspora of growing up in Queens, that has a header stating my name and a footer stating the title of the play with pages arranged in a sequential order where you need to guess the sequence.

From Cooking Light and you need:
Some grand, thickly sliced bread - toasted
goat cheese at room temperature
Your favorite jam
thin slices of prosciutto
plums
arugula

Toast your bread. I used a dense, seven-grain, thickly sliced bread. There was joy in that bread. Spread some jam (fig jam or date jam is particularly good with this) on the bread. Spread your goat cheese over it. Top with prosciutto and arugula leaves. One slice satisfies. During a binge - five slices retain sanity.

Don't you love this? No amounts, no emulsifying, no pots, no oven temperature. It's sane. It's a buffet - it's the perfect small bite. And somehow with this open-faced sandwich at my side, I finished a short play - Before the Gathering - about 3 sisters sneaking shrimp toast and sorting shoes ten years after their mother's death on 9/11 (I know - upbeat). It fits none of the guidelines beyond having my name on every page. But I have sent out 8 submissions already. And received word that Under a Midsummer Moon took 2nd place in a contest - which only strengthened my resolve to make it better. And pop another chocolate and make another open-faced prosciutto sandwich. And maybe pour a glass of wine.