What you see above can be hard to decipher; its both repulsive and attractive at once. An abstract painting, perhaps? The snot of a flu infected gold fish? Baby poo was a friend's guess. Well, it makes much more sense in context : a bowl. This, friends, is the focal point, the epicenter, the anchor of a bowl of spicy butternut squash soup; a crouton smothered with pumpkin seed pesto, to be exact.
On this Thursday night, the occasion for venturing North of the Financial District for supper was that a friend was in town and, let's be honest, there's nothing to see in the Financial District. Well, except the Stock Exchange which on this particular Winter night, did not have its charming X-mas lights lit. So, again, nothing to see. Cheyenne and Cameron, who had a Partridge in a Pear Tree (literally... to eat) at Babbo for dinner while I was snoozing in the Quiet Car on the Express train back from Boston, were ready for something sweet by the time I arrived. A cupcake, they requested (typical of visitors to the city) and for that, we went to BabyCakes: amazing, but not the subject of this post.
After we quenched their sweet tooth, I needed something to eat, real food. We meandered through Soho, into Noho, and came upon a restaurant I've seen many times, and many times dismissed because I don't care much for Chinese food, and the Chinese lettering inside the restaurant is visible through the windows in the facade. It was late-ish, and cold, and there were people inside so I head towards the entrance to peek at the menu and was delighted to see that it wasn't a Chinese restaurant. Well, not exclusively. The soup in the Thursday Specials section immediately caught my eye:
We were seated. Cheyenne, now "stuffed" after partridge and cupcakes, ordered an Iced Tea, and I, without needing to cross-examine the menu, ordered the soup. It came, and it was special, different, nuanced. I really like butternut squash, in all of its forms. I find that it's hard to disappoint, you know? It's earthy, and sweet, and texturally very satisfying, but just as it's hard to disappoint, I find it's terribly hard to be terribly impressive. But this was different, wow-ish:
The soup had a kick: spice. It was such a departure from what I'm used to getting in butternut squash (those trite sage-y, maple-y flavors) and thus, so exhilarating. And I'm only talking about the soup here, not yet to the magic island that floats in its midst. It was a full-bodied soup; aromatic, fresh, and spicy, almost hot. You can see the flecks of pepper in the first picture, but there was definitely more more lurking in there, white pepper I think, and a restrained . And then, AND THEN, my timid first bite of the pumpkin seed pesto crouton. Nutty and herbal, this was more like a tapenade than a pesto in texture, and absolutely the perfect compliment to the silky comfort of the soup. At the time, I just wanted more of this -I wanted a crostini of it, not a crouton- but in hindsight the proportions were just right. Because I became obsessed with portioning it so that each spoon full of soup had an ambassador from the island, the pesto never overcame (nor became) the soup; it dazzled only slightly as the butternut squash stood proud throughout.
