Sunday seems like the perfect day to make soup. It's lazy, easy and comforting. A November Sunday is even better, because chances are it's cold and wet too. So it was that I found myself copying out a recipe my Dad had sent and suggested; carrot and ginger soup.
I love carrots. I quite often have one chopped up raw with my lunch, and I remember loving stir-frys when I was a kid because of the carrot, the sweetness of which matches perfectly with the saltiness of soy sauce. However, despite my love for them, it's hard to get through how many inevitably arrive in the organic box. They may be a staple during this time of year, but there are only so many I can get through in a week when I don't cook a roast dinner for six on a Sunday! It's just the two of us, and the cat - who quite frankly would rather another carrot never crosses his path - and so when the haul of carrots arrive occasionally a sinking feeling comes with them (although not as badly as when the Jerusalem artichokes get on the scene, which no doubt you'll start hearing about in a few weeks!).
Given the carrot overflow imagine my pleasure when my Dad suggested this soup. I waited all weekend to do it, admiring the stock of carrots in the fridge with gleeful satisfaction. "I know what I'm doing with you" I thought in their direction. This evening, I copied out the recipe and started organizing the ingredients: 1Kg of carrots, no problem. Oops! It seems my mid-week nibbling was a little premature, only 500g remained. So I did the only thing possible. I upped the bread quota!
In the end the halved soup recipe was just enough for one normal and one small portion, which when topped up with onion focaccia, was perfect. If I'm honest the soup was a little too sweet for me, and the ginger was only a subtle residual heat. I think next time, when I make a full batch, I will probably taste it and then add some more ginger. Other than that I hightly recomment it. I think a sharp piece of vintage cheese would have gone down very well with it too, but as it happened the bread was enough for us, with the burnt caramelly flavour of the onions a perfect accompaniment.