GREENS AND GRAINS, BUT MAKE IT SOUP.

Deeply comforting and smugly nutritious.

Think greens and grains, and you think of bowlfuls of lovely summer salads built on brown rice and barley, enriched with avocado, sprouts, nuts and seeds. Wholesome, nourishing, and smugly nutritious.

But not terribly helpful when it’s a bit chilly.

So I’ve turned greens and grains salad into a greens and grains soup, taking all the good things we need to get us through winter.

The ingredients list is basically a prescription from your nutritionist: grains such as barley and brown rice; pulses such as lentils; leafy greens like silver beet (chard) and spinach; pumpkin seeds; veggie or chicken stock.

It’s the sort of dish that will happily change every time you make it, depending on what’s in your garden, cupboard, and fridge. And it’s a great way to de-constipate your kitchen cupboards and use those half-empty packs of you-name-it that are in there. (Yes, kitchen cupboards get constipation, too – this will help clear them out and free up some space).

There are so many greens and grains in there that there’s not much room for meat, should you wish for meat. You could always shred some left-over cooked chicken through it, or chop some leg ham and soften it in the soup. I accidentally used some stock left-over from cooking corned beef, which was mighty. And then I made a quick spring onion pesto to make it even greener.

A note on the liquids to solids ratio: The grains will just soak up as much liquid as they can – they’re like me on a Friday night - and you may need more. That’s why I cook them initially in water, then see how much liquid is needed once they are done, and top up the difference with stock.

If they do swallow everything in sight, then just re-title the dish Greens & Grains Stew, and pretend that was the look you were after all along.  Very nice it is, too, served in shallow pasta bowls, with a crisp-skinned NZ salmon fillet on top and a cheek of lemon on the side.

GREENS AND GRAIN SOUP

• 100 g pearl barley

• 50 g brown rice (optional)

• 100 g lentils

• 1 tsp sea salt

• 1 tbsp olive oil

• 1 leek, trimmed and sliced

• 2 garlic cloves, finely sliced

• 2 celery stalks, sliced

• 500 ml to 1 litre vegetable or chicken stock  (2 to 4 cups)

• 4 big stalks of silverbeet, washed

• 1 tbsp grated lemon zest

• Half tsp smoked paprika

• Sea salt and cracked black pepper

• Half a bunch of spinach, washed and roughly chopped

• 2 tbsp pumpkin seeds, toasted in a dry pan

• Spring onion pesto (recipe below)

• Extra virgin olive oil for swirling

Rinse the barley and brown rice well and place in a good-sized saucepan with 1 litre of water and salt.

Bring to the boil then simmer for 10 minutes.

Rinse the lentils and add, stirring, and simmer for a further 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Once the lentils are in, heat the oil in a fry pan and gently cook the leeks and celery without browning – just to soften - for 5 minutes, then add the garlic and cook for a minute or two.

Add the leeks, garlic and celery to the grains while they are still cooking.

When the grains are done (swollen and cooked through but not soft and mushy), add as much stock as you need to make a soupy sort of soup, and bring up to the simmer.

De-stalk the silver beet, and chiffonade the leaves: stack them in a couple of piles, roughly roll up each pile and cut across it, to form 1 cm strips.

Add the silver beet and allow to cook down and wilt in the soup for 2 or 3 minutes.

Add the lemon zest, paprika, sea salt, pepper, and finally, the spinach leaves, allowing them to wilt into the soup for a few seconds.

Serve in warm bowls, top with a spoonful of spring onion pesto, pumpkin seeds and a swirl of extra virgin. Serves four as a small bowl and two as a large, vaguely.

ALSO GOOD: I adore barley, but you could try farro, spelt or quinoa. Beans of any kind. Chick peas. Extra greens can be leafy, or not – chopped broccolini, roman beans, green peas. Umami: you could build in a little miso paste or tomato paste towards the start, or coconut milk towards the end. Mint, parsley, coriander, more spring onion greens are all good at the end. Serve with a spoonful of yoghurt and a dice of preserved lemon for a citrussy kick.  Here’s the spring onion pesto for adding, which uses toasted pumpkin seeds instead of nuts, but you do you:

SPRING ONION PESTO

A zippy little number that will super-charge any soup you care to name.

• 60 g spring onion greens, chopped

• 1 garlic clove, grated

• 2 tbsp grated parmesan

• 2 tbsp pumpkin seeds

• Sea salt

• 2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

Chuck the spring onion greens, garlic, parmesan and pumpkin seeds in a small food processor with sea salt to taste, and pulse until broken down.

Scrape down the sides, add olive oil and pulse again until it comes together in a paste or pesto.

Cover and refrigerate until needed.

You still want greens and grains as a salad? There’s a simple lunchbox recipe here on Good Food.  

Thanks for dropping by! And thanks to all the lovely people who have joined me recently due to recommendations from my fabulous fellow writers on the Substack platform, such as Jeanette Hyde of The Gut Make-over, and Maggie McKellar of The Sit Spot. Welcome!

I worry that I won’t keep you, though.  My recipes are sensible-healthy, with an occasional side of cake, but not science-healthy, straight from a nutritionist. You’ll need Jeanette for that. And I love words but I don’t write like a poet about truth and beauty and life on the farm. You’ll need Maggie for that.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? We’re all a bit of a messy mix, trying to keep our gut biome as busy as bees while coming up with something interesting for dinner, retaining some awe and wonder in our lives and getting shit done, while lurching from the morning coffee to the evening glass of wine.

Here’s what I tell myself:  if we just do our own thing, we find our own people, who like what we do. But it’s also very good for us to keep a few in the mix who aren’t ‘our people’, for a more interesting diversity of opinion, taste and chilli sauce preference. I hope this makes sense. If not, just stick to the recipe.

Oh, and special thanks to Terry, for living off greens and grains for what seemed like days (because it WAS days, because I cooked way too many grains to begin with, something I contrarily but heartily recommend).

I would also like to acknowledge the traditional owners of the lands and waters upon which I work, live, cook and play; the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation, and pay my respects to Elders past and present, and to the continuing strength and resilience of First Nations people, communities and cultures.