Maybe we all have memories of gray winter days, flurries of snow dancing in the air outside the window, the birds are nesting to keep warm and every so often a pipe bangs in the walls before warm air rushes through the vent. It’s so quiet and peaceful. You pull a soft sweater out from the bottom drawer, put on the fuzziest socks you have, and wrap your fingers around a warm mug filled with coffee.
It’s one of those days where the couch is the best place to cozy up with a novel. The cat doesn’t bother with grooming and lays next to you quietly stealing body heat. You might write in your journal, light a few candles, or even fill up the bathtub.
Around lunchtime, you turn on the stove. You reach far back in your cabinet to retrieve the big heavy-bottomed pot. Every vegetable in your refrigerator is heaped onto your countertop, waiting to be peeled, chopped, minced, diced, shredded, crushed, and sliced.
One by one, you throw each vegetable into the pot on top of a small pour of olive oil. Letting the vegetables brown, you rummage through your spice rack to find the black pepper. With a heavy hand, specks of pepper fall into the pot. Maybe you’ll add rosemary, possibly thyme. You rely on tradition and instinct and mood.
The soup needs to simmer, you remember. The flavors need to blend together and the potatoes need to soften. You’re hungry and impatient, checking almost too often if the potatoes fall apart at the touch of a fork. You place a bowl on the counter, a spoon in the container of grated parmesan, and tear off a piece of a crusty baguette.
Finally, the potatoes are the perfect amount of mushiness and firmness, still holding together but disintegrating when tempted. The big ladle is pulled from the utensil crock and you scoop up chunky vegetables and turn them into the bowl. You push the ladle underneath the liquid, this time collecting only broth. You dip a corner of crusty bread into the bowl, stealing a bite before you even sit down.
This recipe for chunky, classic, chickpea soup is full of hearty vegetables, slippery chickpeas, and fresh herbs. Served with your choice of wild rice, crusty bread, or pasta. Our favorite pasta for this soup is ‘campanelle’ which means ‘bellflowers’ in Italian. It’s shaped like a cone, with ruffled edges, and is perfect for capturing broth or sauce.
A nourishing, hearty, warm, vegan, chunky soup filled with fortifying vegetables, fresh herbs, and slippery chickpeas. This recipe for classic chickpea soup can be served with your choice of wild rice, crusty bread, or pasta.
- 1 tablespoon olive oil (optional - see notes)*
- 3 leeks sliced
- 3 fresh garlic cloves minced
- 3 carrots chopped
- 3 celery stalks chopped
- 3 cups chopped, potatoes (about 2-3 potatoes)
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 8 cups vegetable broth
- 1 sprig fresh rosemary
- 3 sprigs fresh thyme
- 2 bay leaves
- 2 cups fresh kale chopped
- 2 cans chickpeas
Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add leeks and garlic. Cook until soft and fragrant.
Add carrots, celery, potatoes and black pepper. Stir to combine and continue cooking for an additional 5 minutes, until potatoes start to brown.
Stir in vegetable broth, rosemary, thyme and bay leaves. Bring to a simmer and cover for 20-25 minutes.
Stir in kale and chickpeas. Cover for an additional 5 minutes, or until the potatoes easily break apart when stabbed with a fork.
Remove rosemary, thyme and bay leaves. Serve warm over wild rice or pasta.
- Olive oil: if you do not want to use any oil in this recipe, you can substitute it for a few tablespoons of vegetable broth.
- Fresh herbs: if you plan to use dried herbs instead of fresh,
substitute the fresh rosemary for 1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary and the fresh thyme for 1 teaspoon thyme.
- Serve with a generous sprinkle of Vegan Parmesan. Our favorite brand of vegan parmesan cheese is Go Veggie and we usually have some available. If you can't find Go Veggie, or any other parmesan, you can make homemade parmesan instead.
- Store leftovers in an air-tight container in the refrigerator for up to 10 days or in the freezer for up to 4 months.