The Soup Shall Set You Free: Pairing Wine with Soup

Soups, like salads, seem to trip up the wine world. For centuries, the conventional wisdom has been that soups are difficult to bring to the table with wine. It is worth mentioning that this sort of nonsense also left the wine elite of yesteryear cowering at the sight of eggs, artichokes and asparagus.

We can only surmise that the authors of these long held rules and regulations of fine dining found the soups of their day off-putting with the wines of their day, or at least thought it sounded smart. I’ll grant that consommé and other clear broth-based soups aren’t terribly exciting with most beverage partners, because of their textural similarity, but there is a big world of soup out there, and an equally big world of wine, so surely we can find a few combinations that don’t repel each other.

Since a soup might be crafted to have any aroma, flavor, color or temperature we find in so-called “wine-friendly” solid foods, we are left with texture as the only possible deal-breaker. If texture, the liquidity of soup, is the root of this problem, then texture is probably the starting point for a solution.

Building texture in soup is easy. Imagine a bowl of the most elemental vegetable soup: chunks of vegetable in broth. A “brothy” soup, even if it is well seasoned, is relatively light eating. Now, imagine the texture of the exact same vegetable soup recipe after a short visit with your blender. Puréed, with no other adjustments, it would become heavier, literally coating the palate. Voila! You have increased the body of your soup in seconds. Now, stir in a bit of heavy cream, and sprinkle toasted croutons over the surface, and you really get things going. With a bit of body, and a few simple garnishes, soup seems less like a wine challenge and more like an astounding opportunity to tailor food to wine.

In a land of do-as-I-say recipes, soup is pure freedom. For some strange reason, folks who won’t scramble an egg without a dog-eared cookbook, iPad or Kindle in front of them make and garnish soup with an extra drizzle of olive oil, a gratuitous grating of cheese, a secret dash of hot sauce, unabashed cracker crumbling or the wanton dip of an unauthorized sandwich, and do so without the slightest apprehension. The essential nature of every bite is changed instantaneously, and fundamentally.

Even people who never make soup themselves seem to have no trouble deciding exactly how to eat their soup, and go about making it happen with no visible anxiety. My father, who cooks little and cares little to cook, is very serious about his soup. I remember watching in fascination, 40 years ago, as he deftly processed oyster crackers to a coarse powder over a bowl of avgolemono soup at a Greek diner, fingers against palm, in a slow, clockwise motion. This was not some authentic Greek tradition. This was dad’s soup mojo. He approached the soup bowl with confidence, originality and daring.

Soup is an Everyman thing. Maybe that’s why the wine elite have dismissed it. I say embrace the soup, and the soup shall set you free.

Thus, we should capitalize on the license we have been granted to manipulate our soup, especially when bringing a bottle of wine to the table. Just ask yourself a question or two: What has the wine got? What has the soup got? What loves both? OK, now stir part or all of that list into the soup, sprinkle it on top of the soup or dip it into the soup. Now take a bite, and then take a sip. Could it really be that easy? Yes, it could, and it is.

Off to the Soup Kitchen with a Glass of Wine

Dried beans are a wonder. It is difficult to find so much flavor and texture in such a sturdy, natural package anywhere else. That said, most of us grew up on dried beans that were well past their prime. Napa’s Rancho Gordo (RanchoGordo.com) has been revolutionizing our ideas about dried beans in recent years. Relatively new to their extraordinary lineup of heirloom beans are “Cassoulet Beans,” grown from seed stock sourced from southwestern France. These coveted beans are the base ingredient for an authentic cassoulet, but wherever you may need a white bean these deserve your serious consideration.

Mushrooms, likewise, are culinary wonders. In this area, autumn and winter bring us a regional treasure of wild foraged mushrooms, any of which might make a fine addition to your white bean soup. Deeper flavored mushrooms, typified by the hearty Black Trumpet, can add an incredible, earthy punch to this soup, begging for a Pinot Noir or other medium-bodied red wine. Milder, sweeter mushrooms, like our gorgeous California Chanterelles, will work with almost any wine choice.

This soup is the essence of simplicity. It is easy to make, easy to freeze and hard to mess up. The base, with or without its leek and mushroom garnish, will freeze well for weeks.