Parmegiano Reggiano, Ciao!

I miss my grandma. And when I miss her, I yearn to cook. One of my favorite food memories of her is her minestrone. It'd appear on the table randomly, almost an afterthought. Always for lunch (dinner was reserved for heartier, meatier fare, for God's sake!), always on a weekday, after my cousins and I were lassoed in from the backyard. It's accompaniments were often romaine lettuce, simply dressed in oil (extra virgin stored in a tin container), red wine vinegar (the kind my cousins and I would sneak into the fridge and do "shots" of), salt and pepper...because that's all it needs. Sliced cantaloupe, and, maybe, a piece of spice cake adorned with orange zest-laced frosting would follow. So, tonight, I whipped up a batch. The instant the onions and carrots hit the heat of the pan, the smell of home fills the kitchen.

As I'm sauteing away, my mind drifts to the rind of Parmegianno resting in the cheese drawer of the refrigerator, waiting to fulfill it's destiny. The rind patiently waits, letting the nutty, salty cheese hog the spotlight for weeks, months. The rind knows, that when utilized properly, it can provide a delicious, distinct foundation of flavor to just about any soup. A cook in the know knows to never, ever throw that little nugget of love away. Once, I was without said rind, and needed it for a recipe. At Whole Foods, I ask the "cheese gal" if she had any rinds laying around. "No, sorry" was her reply. Weeks later, I noticed that Whole Foods was selling rind! My letter demanding a portion of the profit has yet to be answered.

The devil on my shoulder says "Go...get the rind. No one will know. It'll be so good." The angel on the other shoulder replies "Ah ah, missy! Wait just a minute! You know quite well that the rind is certainly not vegan! I fear it may not even be vegetarian! Exactly what kind of rennet is used to make that stuff? Hmm? HMMMMM?!?!?!"*

I give into my base, id-driven devil, and throw the rind into the pot and the baby out with the bathwater. Oh, by "baby", I mean any shred of self-discipline that remained within my being that day and by "bathwater", I mean my pride. In my mind, I rationalized, I justified, I put off will power for another day. Essentially, what I've always done that got myself into this not-so-petite body. 

The end result, of course, was fantastic. Not quite as good as my grandma's, but who's counting? The Parm MADE this soup. It's perfectly fine without it, but when you simmer the stuff with that rind....yum.

*Wow, I never would've guessed my angel was quite the passive-aggressive little Church Lady.

Grandma Jenny's Minestrone

3 T olive oil

1 medium onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 T Kosher or sea salt

1 1/2 t ground pepper

3 stalks celery, chopped

3 carrots, peeled and chopped

2 potatoes, peeled and chopped

1 t. dried oregano

2 dried bay leaves

1 can diced tomatoes

5 c vegetable stock

4 c dark greens (I use kale, but any will do)

1/2 lb small pasta (ditalini is what grandma used)

approximately 2"x4" parmegianno reggiano rind (optional)

1. In a large stock pot, saute onions, garlic, carrots, celery, potatoes in the olive oil (add the salt, pepper, oregano & bay leaves too) over medium heat until soft (about 10 minutes)

2. Stir in tomato & stock, raise heat to medium-high and bring to a light boil

3. Add greens, pasta & parm rind & cook until pasta is done, but the longer it sits, the better!