My mother didn’t cook anything that she wasn’t obligated to cook until she was 80, and then the first thing she wanted to make was pickled garlic! She was a woman who loved eating, had no interest in cooking and would have embraced the idea of grazing if she hadn’t felt duty-bound to put three courses on the table every day at exactly 6 p.m.
One afternoon, a couple of years after I was married, my mom called and, in the course of chatting, casually asked what I was making for dinner. That night, it was something I often make for dinner: salad. My mom’s response: “You’re so lucky you married a man who thinks salad is dinner!”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that my husband is happy to call soup dinner, too.
And so am I. I’ll often make a vegetable soup (frequently from what’s left in the refrigerator — I think of it as Stone Soup) and declare it dinner once I’ve rounded it out with bread, cheese and something leafy.
This soup, on the other hand, with its ginger and basil turkey meatballs, its bright vegetables and slip-slidey rice noodles, stands alone. It’s truly a one-bowl meal. A terrific one.
It all started with the meatballs and their unorthodox mix of ingredients. I had an idea to make ground-turkey meatballs and to use them in a chickpea stew. But I ran out of time, which is also how I inadvertently did something brilliant: I poached the meatballs and, by accident, kept them moist and light.
Ground turkey and chicken — you can use either one here — are prized for being lean, but that lack of fat can make them tricky to cook into deliciousness. You need to add some fat — I mix in eggs and ricotta — and you need to be gentle with them. Mix them only as much as necessary, and cook them at a simmer, not a boil.
As for the vegetables, go for variety. I make sure that there are some dark greens in the mix and a carrot or two for a pop of color. For reasons unfathomable and delightful, my local supermarket always has spicy mustard greens, and I add them for their hit of heat and for the fact that they always surprise people. Choose whatever vegetables you want and slice, shred, chop or shave them thin, so they’ll cook quickly. (If you’ve got a mandoline or a food processor, you can polish the job off in minutes.)
Photograph by Deb Lindsey. (This story appeared in my Everyday Dorie column in Washington Post Food.)