Carrot Apple Soup

The leaves are coming down now. The peak was last week and October has turned the corner toward the spare, gray, honest version of itself that arrives when the performance is over. I prefer this version of October to the tourist version, the same way I prefer my woods without the leaf peepers: the thing itself, without the audience.

I spent Thursday at the sugarhouse doing the post-season accounting — going through the account books and updating the entry for the 2019 season. Forty years I have kept this record, in the same format as my grandfather: year, sap yield, syrup yield, ratio, notes on the weather. The 2019 entry reads: "12 gal. syrup. 487 gal. sap. 40:1 ratio. Cold spring, late start, good run mid-March. Trees: 42 taps, all Bergstrom property maples. First boil: March 14." My grandfather wrote in the same book sixty years ago in the same format. The page he started is the page I continue. The handwriting differs. The facts do not.

Helen made a butternut squash soup this week — her version, with cream and a bit of nutmeg. I make my version without cream. We each ate the other's version and each said ours was better, which is not true of mine and might not be true of hers either, but which is the right position for two people who have been cooking in the same kitchen for forty years and have developed separate and equally valid opinions about butternut squash. This is not a conflict. This is a marriage.

Two weeks until Thanksgiving. The planning begins in earnest. The turkey has been ordered from the farm in Charlotte. The cranberry sauce will be made from scratch, from the fresh berries that Helen will buy next Saturday at the Burlington farmers' market, probably the last outdoor market of the season. This is what October means: the last of things. The last market. The last butternut squash from the garden. The last warm afternoon on the porch. Then the winter, which has its own compensations. I have always known this. I keep knowing it.

Helen’s butternut squash is still on the counter — the last one from the garden — and it will become soup before the week is out, each of us making our own version as we have always done. But the recipe I keep coming back to at this point in October, when the apples are still crisp and the carrots have been in cold storage long enough to sweeten, is this Carrot Apple Soup: simpler than it sounds, honest in the way that late-season food tends to be honest, and warm in the particular way that matters when the afternoons have stopped pretending to be anything other than what they are. It belongs to the same category of things as the sugarhouse ledger — straightforward, purposeful, and better for having been made before.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 medium yellow onion, roughly chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 pounds carrots (about 8 medium), peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
2 medium apples, peeled, cored, and chopped (Honeycrisp or Granny Smith work well)
4 cups low-sodium vegetable or chicken broth
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1/2 cup apple cider or heavy cream (optional, for finishing)
Fresh chives or a swirl of creme fraiche, for garnish

Instructions

Sweat the aromatics. Melt the butter in a large heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 6–8 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute more until fragrant.
Add carrots and apples. Stir in the carrots and apples. Cook for 3–4 minutes, letting them begin to soften slightly and absorb the butter.
Season and simmer. Add the ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, a generous pinch of salt, and several grinds of black pepper. Pour in the broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a gentle simmer. Cover and cook until the carrots are completely tender, about 25 minutes.
Blend until smooth. Remove from heat and let cool slightly. Use an immersion blender to puree the soup directly in the pot until completely smooth, or carefully transfer in batches to a stand blender. Return to low heat.
Finish and adjust. If using apple cider, stir it in for a brighter, lighter finish; if using cream, stir it in for a richer, more velvety texture. Taste and adjust salt, pepper, and spices as needed.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and garnish with fresh chives or a small swirl of creme fraiche. Serve with good crusty bread.

Nutrition (per serving)

Carrot Apple Soup — The Last of Things, Ladled into a Bowl