Bite This! Sandy Makes the Best Soup Ever.

Lest you think my culinary crush has waned, fear not, the Barefoot Contessa still reigns in my kitchen. And as winter lingers on in these parts, I’ve been testing her soup recipes.

In the past week, I’ve chopped and roasted vast quantities of squash and root vegetables, producing some very tasty brews. But it’s the tomato soup below that stands far above the steaming crowd.

Even junk food addicts love it. Why? Sprinkle with parmesan and it becomes pizza in a bowl!














Roasted Tomato Basil Soup

Ingredients
• 3 pounds ripe plum tomatoes, cut in half lengthwise
• 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons good olive oil
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 1 1/2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
• 2 cups chopped yellow onions (2 onions)
• 6 garlic cloves, minced
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 1 (28-ounce) canned plum tomatoes, with their juice
• 4 cups fresh basil leaves, packed
• 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
• 1 quart chicken stock or water

Directions
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Toss together the tomatoes, 1/4 cup olive oil, salt, and pepper. Spread the tomatoes in 1 layer on a baking sheet and roast for 45 minutes.

In an 8-quart stockpot over medium heat, sauté the onions and garlic with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, the butter, and red pepper flakes for 10 minutes, until the onions start to brown. Add the canned tomatoes, basil, thyme, and chicken stock. Add the oven-roasted tomatoes, including the liquid on the baking sheet. Bring to boil and simmer uncovered for 40 minutes. Pass through a food mill fitted with the coarsest blade*. Taste for seasonings. Serve hot or cold.

*Note: If you don’t own a food mill, just use a immersion blender and prepare to floss tomato seeds and greenery out of your teeth.

Note 2: Proceed with extreme caution when using an immersion blender with hot liquids.

Note 3: A tomato soup explosion—and I’m not saying I had one—can cause one’s kitchen to look like a set from Dexter.

Note 4: A food mill—essentially a strainer with a press and a hand crank—seems like a stupid investment until you’ve had a tomato explosion. But how is it possible that such a contraption can cost $200 at Williams-Sonoma?

Note 3: Stay tuned for more on my addiction to kitchen gadgets.