Cool as a Cucumber – Chilled Cucumber Buttermilk Soup

Okay guys – this is challenging.  This is not a difficult dish, recipe, prep, or anything of the sort.  The challenging part will be to find something interesting to say about cucumbers.

Developing this recipe was kind of interesting, I guess, but ridiculously easy.  A lady at work brought me into the kitchen to taste some soup she’d bought at lunch.  She was knocked out with it and wanted me to figure out what was in it.  “Cold cucumber soup?“ I was dubious.  It sounds like one of those fussy, fancy things one might serve at a bridal luncheon – not a shower where there might be fun cooking gadgets and racy underpants – but a luncheon where everything is pastel/floral, and probably has watercress in it.  Bo-ring.  But she’s an enthusiastic fan of my cooking, so I figured I’d give it a try.  And it was lovely.  Boring, but lovely.  A thin, creamy white soup flecked with fresh green herbs and bits of chopped cucumber.  There was a tang to it, a freshness, and a bit of a tartar sauce flavor – dill, I presume, and onion or shallot.  We spread a spoonful out on a plate to look at it and brainstormed ideas, tasting over and over.  Another co-worker who hates cucumbers did not taste it, but suggested yogurt, which worked out well.  Here’s what we came up with:

One quart buttermilk
Two large cucumbers
2 handfuls Italian flat leaf parsley (I’m guessing ¼ cup total)
2 tablespoons fresh dill
1 small shallot (you may sub a quarter of a mild onion)
¼ cup lemon juice
1 cup plain greek yogurt
Salt and pepper to taste – not much of either.

(I Googled “fun facts about cucumbers”.  It turns out there are no fun facts about cucumbers.  There is a lot of pseudo-scientific nonsense about how they relieve stress, remove cellulite, and can apparently de-fog a bathroom mirror.  Weird.  The only things I actually learned are that cucumbers are believed to have originated in India and are 90-95% water.  The fun never stops around here. No siree.)

Wash the cucumbers well in warm water to remove the waxy coating (this is not natural, but not harmful.  It’s applied as a mild preservative, and to keep produce looking shiny and healthy.  But I don’t want to eat it.)  Slice lengthwise to remove the seeds (which apparently cause burping.  Look at that!  I’m actually learning something!)  Cut into one-inch chunks – no need to peel.

Peel and roughly chop the shallot.  Jam all of your ingredients into a blender.

Blend.

That’s it.  That’s all the steps.

If you can travel back in time, after you kill baby Hitler you may want to create some sort of fancy garnish from the cucumber before you chop it, or at least cut a few very thin slices to lay on top like I did (after an emergency trip to the grocery to buy another cucumber).  I tried out a stocking-stuffer As Seen On TV! spiralizer, which created what I can only describe as wet Medusa hair, complete with split ends that should not be anywhere near food.  I completely forgot about my copy of Jacques Pepin’s Complete Techniques, which is a garnish-lover’s dream book.  He makes adorable turtles out of cucumbers (!!!), which is totally worth Googling.  Googling this will also lead you down a worm-hole of time-suckage, in which you will waste 20 minutes watching videos of baby turtles eating cucumbers.  Another fun fact.

The verdict?  Work lady graciously insisted my soup was even better than the restaurant’s.  It is a nice little recipe if I do say so myself.  Something different and almost elegant.  Definitely refreshing on a hot day.  I would double the amount of yogurt if I made it again, just to add a little more tang and body. Mine was very much greener than the original, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.  I choose to believe it’s healthier – green is good!  She plans to use it as a dressing for a cold shrimp salad, which will probably be excellent.

So for the easiest recipe ever (seed, chop, blend), at least I learned a little (boring) something.  And reverse-engineering recipes is getting to be a hobby.  It’s like taking apart a puzzling and reassembling it face-down – you get the edge pieces for hints, but then you’re on your own.  This recipe came together on the first try, so I might be some sort of genius, but probably not.

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