As has been often remarked on this blog, I get easily exited. I can be enthusiastic about almost anything, from ancient Mesopotamia to a specific tone of red lipstick, from fiscal policy to biathlon. Among other things, I’m a big fan of food: making it, eating it, reading and talking about it. I have an over-large collection of spices, condiments and other ingredients and I eat pretty much anything. I am, however, not particularly excited about soups.

Not that I have anything against them. I am not anti-soup! Soups are fine. But I never think to myself: “oh, how I crave a nice bowl of soup”. I eat out relatively often, but order soup maybe twice a year. I’m not sure why that is. I find them boring, maybe? Not very glamorous nor nerdy enough for my taste? There are, however, exceptions.

There’s French onion soup, my autumn favourite, and ajo blanco, the perfect soup for summer (although I wouldn’t say no to some good gazpacho either, possibly with some added strawberries). When I feel patient enough, I make a smooth Jerusalem artichoke soup that looks extremely unexciting, but tastes heavenly with some truffle oil. And then there’s Persian pistachio soup, my current creamy favourite.

As with many other things I like, I discovered the recipe in Greg and Lucy Malouf’s Saraban, an excellent cookbook for Persian food. I do make it slightly differently, so I’m going to give you my version (it is certainly not superior in any way, it’s just how I’ve made it). You really should get that book, though, people.

You will need:

– two small leeks (white part only)
– two shallots
– one clove of garlic
– butter for frying
– a generous pinch of ground ginger, cumin, turmeric and white pepper
– sea salt to taste
– 1+ litres of vegetable or chicken stock (for this soup, I try to make my own)
– 150 grams of pistachios
– juice of one orange
– juice of half a lime
– barberries, sour cream and pistachios for serving

Heat a generous amount of butter and fry the finely diced leeks, shallot and garlic until translucent. Add the spices and cook some more. Add the stock and salt and simmer for 30 minutes. As this is going on, blanch and peel the pistachios, to get rid of the grey/purple skins (it is annoying, but it improves the colour, texture and taste). Put the nuts in a food processor with some of the soup and blend (you need a good blender for this and might need to experiment with the amount of liquid to make it work). Pour the smooth puree into the soup, add the citrus juices, adjust the seasoning and the amount of liquid (just add more stock or water if needed) and you are done. ALTERNATIVELY, if you are lazy or in a hurry, you can also use ready-made pistachio paste and add it directly to the soup. I’ve made this both ways and both were delicious, although the colour is more vibrant if you make it from scratch.

You don’t really need to garnish this, but as suggested by the Maloufs, sour cream does work very well. If you want to go for the full Persian feel, the tart barberries are a lovely counterpoint to the richness of the soup. You need to soak them first and can fry them briefly in butter (I fried mine slightly too long and now it looks like there are little bugs in my soup). But I think a slice of orange is a good option as well, if you don’t feel like hunting for rare berries.

I’m aware that the ingredient list doesn’t look like much and I understand if you’re skeptical about making this. But by some magic, a couple of alliums and a handful of nuts will turn into a creamy, beautiful, complex liquid that tastes like nothing else, the rich sweetness of pistachios balanced by citrus and complemented by spices. I have served it to quite a few people by now. Nobody has guessed the ingredients. Nobody has complained.