Traditional recipes

Fava Bean Soup with Carrot Cream

Fava Bean Soup with Carrot Cream

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  • 1 1/2 pounds fava bean pods (to yield 3/4 cup beans)
  • 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
  • 1 8-ounce Yukon Gold potato, peeled, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
  • 1 medium carrot, peeled, thinly sliced
  • 2 14-ounce cans vegetable broth
  • 3 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley

Carrot cream

  • 2 carrots, peeled, grated (about 1 1/4 cups)

Recipe Preparation

For soup

  • Cook fava beans in large pot of boiling salted water 5 minutes. Drain. Cool. Cut off tip of each pod and squeeze beans into medium bowl. Peel skin from each bean (to yield about 3/4 cup beans).

  • Heat oil in large pot over medium heat. Add onion and sauté until tender, about 10 minutes. Add beans, potato, carrot, broth, 1 1/2 cups water and wine. Cover and simmer until vegetables are soft, about 15 minutes. Cool slightly. Stir in parsley. Working in batches, puree soup in blender. Return to pot. Stir in cream. Season with salt and pepper. DO AHEAD Soup can be made 1 day ahead; cover and chill.

For carrot cream

  • Puree all ingredients in blender. Transfer to bowl. Chill at least 15 minutes and up to 3 hours.

  • Strain carrot cream into medium bowl, pressing on solids to extract as much liquid as possible. Using electric mixer, beat carrot cream until soft peaks form. Bring soup to simmer. Ladle into bowls. Top with dollop of carrot cream.

Recipe by Christine Piccin,Reviews Section

Moroccan Fava Bean Soup

There is no substitute for these funky and incredibly flavorful beans. You will find them in Indian, Italian and Middle Eastern Grocery stores, or simply go online: well worth looking for. You will love them, so get a nice supply and store them in glass jars.

Don’t get it into your head to peel them, which would be pure slavery: Buy them peeled!


  • 4 cups peeled dry fava beans
  • 3 quarts (12 cups) water
  • 1/2 cup olive oil
  • Salt to taste
  • 8 large cloves garlic
  • 2 Tablespoons paprika
  • 1 teaspoon cayenne, or to taste
  • 2 tablespoons cumin
  • 1/4 cup fresh lemon juice



1 Bring the beans, water, oil, salt and garlic to boil in a wide bottom pot. Reduce the flame to medium and cook, covered, for 2 hours.
2 Whisk the paprika, cayenne, cumin, lemon juice and a little water in a bowl to make sure you have no spice lumps, and throw the mixture in the pot. Cook 15 more minutes.
3 You will find that the beans have almost completely dissolved all by themselves, but just in case you want a more elegant presentation, cream the soup with an immersion blender. Adjust the texture and seasonings. Makes a dozen ample servings.

Special instructions

There is no substitute for these funky and incredibly flavorful beans. You will find them in Indian, Italian and Middle Eastern Grocery stores, or simply go online: well worth looking for. You will love them, so get a nice supply and store them in glass jars.

Don’t get it into your head to peel them, which would be pure slavery: Buy them peeled!

  • 3 cups skinless dried fava beans
  • 5 cups water
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil
  • 2 leek (white part only), chopped
  • 1 ½ onions, chopped
  • 5 cloves garlic, chopped
  • 1 cup chopped fresh spinach, or to taste
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin, or more to taste
  • salt and pepper to taste

Place beans in a large pot with water to cover. Soak 8 hours to overnight.

Drain beans and return to pot with 5 cups fresh water. Bring to a boil and simmer until soft, 45 minutes to 1 hour.

Heat olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add leeks, onions, and garlic saute until softened, about 5 minutes. Add to the pot with the beans.

Add spinach, cumin, salt, and pepper to the soup and cook gently, 15 to 30 minutes more.

Fill blender halfway with soup. Cover and hold lid down with a potholder pulse a few times before leaving on to blend. Pour into a pot. Repeat with remaining soup.

Heat until warm until ready to serve.

Related Video

Based on the reviews, perhaps my expectations were unreasonably high, but I found this soup to be just a somewhat unusual vegetable soup -- not bad but not extraordinary. I made it according to the recipe except my 2 pounds of favas, once shelled, blanched and skinned (time consuming!), only made 1 cup. I had more asparagus so I added that to make up for the missing favas, perhaps changing the balance of flavors. I think this soup depends highly on the quality of broth used.

Really lovely spring soup. I wanted something with a little more kick, so I added some green garlic in the last minute of sauteing the carrots and leeks. I also threw in a parmesan rind instead of adding parmesan at the end, which worked just as well. I used homemade vegetable stock, which was important because the stock plays such a big role and should be high quality! I like the idea of pureeing some of the solids to create something a little thicker, as suggested by one of the other reviewers, so I'll try that next time.

Delicious! I made this as a first course and then a sausage/mushroom/red wine ragout over broiled polenta discs as a second course. The dishes worked really well together! I ended up adding more chicken stock than recommeneded to the soup because it was a bit too dense with all the veggies. Absolutely delicious.

Made recipe as written, although did not add the "optional" Parmesan. What a great, healthy dish!

Great soup! We added fresh tortellini to make it more of a meal. But had to double the veggie stock because the tortellini absorbed so much broth. Also, couldn't find fresh or frozen lima beans so used 1 can butter beans. I was worried theyɽ get soggy so added them at the end, but I think that mean they didn't have as much flavor. I think I would do 1.5-2 cans beans next time and add them when the recipe indicated. Overall, this was great and fresh and made enough to serve 2 for dinner, with leftovers for lunch the next day.

Substituted 1/2 can canary beans + 1/2 can black eye peas (pureed) for the fava beans. Did not have 2/3 cup basil, so just added what I had. Added a squeeze of lime. Delicious. My husband (who doesn't like soup) loved it.

pureed 1 cup of solids and returned to pot. delicious and a perfect spring evening dinner with crusty bread

The soup was good, the basil gives it a fresh taste..I would definitely cut back on the amount of lima/fava and green beans, possibly one less leek, because the broth had a great flavor and I thought it was overcrowded by the beans. It depends on your taste--it almost seems like a meal, so if you like a hearty soup make as is..I was more in the mood of a soup (with more broth) and that's why Iɽ cut back the beans by half..

This is a surprising soup. All the ingredients would seem to add up to something bland or "too vegetable-y". But (using chicken broth) it is really delicious. It's the kind of soup that doesn't have a lovely, attractive look to it: like people won't gather at the stove and say "I can't wait", because it has a thin look to it, but then when they taste it, I think, like me, they'll love it. Appearances in this case are deceiving. It is really delicious and so simple and quick to make. I recommend it. It is listed as a "first course" but I think with a nice dense, dark leafy salad, it would be a fine main course.

Fava Bean and Chicken Soup Recipe

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Recipe: Fava Bean and Chicken Soup

This is my favourite chicken soup for the colder months. The fava beans soften and soak up all the flavours, almost mimicking a pasta of sorts. We call this the clean-up soup, too, because it uses up leftover chicken pieces, bones and just a few veggies.

  • leftover roast chicken scraps and bones
  • 1/2 cup soaked, dried fava beans
  • 2 mushrooms
  • 1 carrot
  • 1/2 medium onion
  • 1/4 head of cauliflower, stem included
  • 1 turnip

    In a large pot, cover the chicken scraps with cold water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer. Cook for one hour.

Creamy bean soup with croutons and crispy ventreche

Prunes that have soaked in Armagnac for six months, minimum. The blood of a freshly killed hare. Nine pounds of fresh fava beans, husked and peeled. A 6-inch-thick bed of pine needles. One dish alone -- a cassoulet -- required trips to two gourmet shops, three butchers, a farmers market and a produce wholesaler. It put 72.5 miles on my car and cost $91.13. Another dish -- salt-cured pork belly with fresh fava bean ragout -- took four days to prepare. Welcome to cooking with Paula Wolfert, which is about as far from “30 Minutes With Rachael Ray” as you can get. But once you’ve experienced it, there’s no going back.

When the revised edition of Wolfert’s 1983 classic “The Cooking of Southwest France” (John Wiley & Sons, $37.50) came out two months ago, I couldn’t wait to start cooking.

I began with eclade de moules, a legendary dish from the Charentes region of France, along the Bay of Biscay. Traditionally, it’s made by packing mussels tightly onto a wooden plank laid out on the ground of a handy forest clearing, covering them with half a foot of pine needles and lighting the needles on fire. When the flames die down, the ashes are brushed away and the mussels eaten with “ash-blackened fingertips.”

Trying this at home seemed problematic, particularly since I live in a downtown loft, not in a pine forest.

But Wolfert’s resourcefulness is catching.

It was just past Christmas. I had a gently desiccating, untreated pine tree within feet of my kitchen. So I wedged the mussels into a cast-iron pot per Wolfert’s instructions, got out my handsaw and began pruning. By the time I’d hacked up my whole tree, I was having so much fun I almost forgot why I was deforesting my living room. I had piles of pine needles, more than enough to fill the pot on my stove. I steamed the mussels as the ornaments rolled unmoored across the floor.

The dish was more medicinal than I’d hoped -- clearly not the sublime evocation of the forests of Charentes that Wolfert had described. Perhaps it was because in her indoor method the pine needles are steamed rather than torched. I’ll try this again next year, but outside, on my Weber grill. That way I can ignite those needles.

TWENTY-THREE years ago, when Wolfert published the first edition of the book, few people outside of that region had heard of -- much less tasted or cooked -- things like cassoulet and garbure. The ingredients she listed in the introduction (duck confit, cepes, black truffles, foie gras) seemed terribly exotic. They still seem exotic, of course, but we’re more accustomed to them now then, they seemed almost magical.

Eating Wolfert’s food was magical too -- as was being shown how to cook it at home. But finding the ingredients? Unless your best friend spent her summers on a farm in Dordogne shacked up with a customs official, forget about it. And even if you got your hands on the Bayonne ham and verjus, it could take days -- days! -- to make a single dish from one of Wolfert’s recipes. And those were the easy ones.

Thus began the Cult of Paula, a secret handshake society for extreme cooks. These were not your weekend gourmets, but people who carved up ducks for fun, owned bacon presses, deveined and poached their own foie gras and thought nothing of spending three hours in traffic just to find Tarbais beans.

When Wolfert’s book went out of print, it seemed almost fitting. Valuable things, particularly esoteric ones, become more so because of their rarity. Think black pearls. Or vintage Peralta Caballero skateboards. Food people would lend their copies of James Beard or Julia Child, but they kept this book in locked drawers or hidden under pillows. One friend even kept hers with the unpublished manuscript of her first novel -- in the freezer in case the house burned down.

So the November reissue of Wolfert’s classic created no small buzz. Not only could you actually get the book now, but it wasn’t stained by demi-glace moreover, it was updated for modern times. Members of the foodie website eGullet, who had been enlisted to test Wolfert’s recipes, were positively effusive, gushing at electronic length about the glories of every ingredient, every method, every dish.

A lot has happened since 1983. Truffles from Oregon! Confit at your local Whole Foods! Foie gras FedEx’d from D’Artagnan! To this end, the revised edition discusses new sources for food that’s not only available now in America, but even produced here.

There are new techniques to accommodate health consciousness and advanced kitchen gadgets (like the sous-vide machine) coverage of a new region (the Auvergne) not included in the original and 60 new recipes, either from another of her out-of-print books (“World of Food,” 1988) or newly pried from the hands of the secretive Gascony matriarchs.

Wolfert’s recipes are not concoctions she invented in her Sonoma kitchen. They’re culled from years of fieldwork in Southwest France, updated for those of us without shotguns or root cellars, but otherwise straight from the local cooks themselves.

This is the charm, the importance -- and the difficulty -- of Wolfert’s books. She’s a cultural anthropologist for regional cooking, whether it be the rustic cuisine of the south of France, or the food of Morocco or the Mediterranean, all regions she’s explored with depth and eloquence in previous books.

But not everyone is temperamentally suited to cutting up wild rabbits and draining their blood for use in sauces, or surfing the Internet and forking over big dough for fresh Boletus edulis (porcini or cepes). Extreme cooking, like whitewater kayaking and out-of-bounds snowboarding, is only for a small segment of the population.

For the ingredients, though much easier to find than they were 20 years ago, still require a kind of elaborate treasure hunt -- and one that often ends up on the Internet. And they’re often prohibitively expensive. Tarbais beans, for example, are available for retail in only one store in Los Angeles (Nicole’s, in South Pasadena). You have to ask for them -- they’re so special that they’re kept hidden in a box in the back room -- and they go for $10.99 a pound. For dried beans!

And the time involved can be quite astonishing, especially as Wolfert’s recipes are filled with temporal fault lines and crevasses: batters that need to sit for an hour or two, fruit that needs to soak overnight -- or for six months -- pork belly that needs to brine for three days, then braise, then roast, then refrigerate, then chill, weighted down with that kitchen tool that very few of us have burning a hole in our utensil drawer, the bacon press.

But the challenge is part of the fun of Wolfert’s recipes. There’s a Maginot line between recreational cooks and people who buy blow torches for their creme brulees -- and any cookbook that nonchalantly calls for pig knuckles and forest fires (as a cooking method, that is) is worth its weight in duck confit.

COOKING my way through the rest of Wolfert’s book wasn’t nearly as much fun as steaming my Christmas tree, but it came close. A week and a half and 14 recipes later I was exhausted, my friends were spoiled rotten, and the contents of my refrigerator could have fed -- easily, exquisitely -- the French Foreign Legion.

The food was glorious: interesting, complex, deeply satisfying. But it was certainly not for the uninitiated -- and many of the recipes were often vague or problematic.

The recipe for poached chicken breast, Auvergne style, for example, doesn’t tell you what kind of cabbage to use, or how exactly to wrap up the chicken. I assumed it should be Savoy -- that’s what the photo showed, and so that’s what I used. When cooked as long as the recipe demanded, Michel Bras’ stuffed onions charred black in the oven. And both the creamy bean soup with croutons and crispy ventreche and the duck leg ragout with green olives and eggplant needed quite a bit of water added to them at one point during cooking to get them right.

The pureed soup was more like mortar than soup before the additional water and the ragout was going the way of the blackened onions.

The recipe for casserole of moulard duck with potatoes was also highly problematic, firstly because I had to substitute Muscovy for the moulard (which, for Southern California cooks, is only available online), and secondly because if you follow the recipe, you end up with duck carpaccio.

These were problems that could be easily solved by the patient -- and knowledgeable -- home cook. But they were frustrating. Even given the normal vagaries of cooking (differing climate, pans and products, oddly calibrated ovens) one can’t help but conclude that maybe it wasn’t a good idea for Wolfert to rely on her fans on eGullet to test the recipes.

The book does include problem-free triumphs. The pork belly with fresh fava ragout came off without a hitch, as did the chicken thighs with Pineau des Charentes. Both were fantastic, multilayered, beautiful dishes. And flambeing a third of a bottle of the hard-to-find fortified Pineau, at almost $30 a bottle, was a kick, though fiscally painful.

Then there’s the cassoulet, the true test of inclusion into the secret handshake society. The recipe is for Andre Daguin’s “original” cassoulet -- “original” because, as Wolfert tells us, favas predated the white Tarbais beans more commonly used in the dish. Of course I had to try it.

I enlisted the Test Kitchen to help shuck. And shuck. And shuck. Nous avons shuckines. Then I went home and cooked. And cooked. Seven hours after the shucking had stopped, the cassoulet was ready.

The windows beyond my kitchen were dark I could hear the traffic from the people heading home to eat ordinary dinners. I lifted the lid of the pot I had to spend $210 plus tax on in order to properly cook the dish. I ate my dinner at the stove, slowly. It’s surprisingly difficult to eat when you’re smiling.

11 egyptian fava beans Recipes

Egyptian Fava Bean Dip (Foul Mudammes)

Egyptian Fava Bean Dip (Foul Mudammes)

Fooll Mudammes (Fava Bean Egyptian Breakfast)(فول مدمس)

Fooll Mudammes (Fava Bean Egyptian Breakfast)(فول مدمس)

Egyptian Falafel - Pita Pocket Filler

Egyptian Falafel - Pita Pocket Filler

Ful Nabed Egyptian Bean And Vegetable Soup

Ful Nabed Egyptian Bean And Vegetable Soup

Foul Nabed -- Egyptian Bean and Vegetable Soup

Foul Nabed -- Egyptian Bean and Vegetable Soup

Moroccan Fava Bean and Vegetable Soup

When I am planning a Passover menu I look to the Sephardic traditions of the Mediterranean. The Sephardim were the Jews of the Iberian Peninsula they had a rich culture and lived in harmony with Christians and Muslims until the Spanish and Portuguese Inquisitions at the end of the 15th century, when all non-Christians were expelled from Spain and Portugal. The Sephardim were welcomed in Turkey, and many went to Greece, North Africa and the Middle East as well. Throughout the Mediterranean, springtime is the season for spinach and other greens, artichokes and fava beans, and these vegetables make delicious appearances at Passover meals. This dish is inspired by the fresh fava bean soup that Rivka Levy-Mellul, author of “La Cuisine Juive Marocaine,” remembers as the first course of her childhood Seders in Morocco. The authentic dish is a substantial soup made with quite a lot of meat, but I’ve made a vegetarian version. I expected the fava beans to color this soup a pale green, but the other vegetables — the carrots, leeks, turnips and onion — and especially the turmeric contribute just as much, and the color of the soup is more of a burnt orange.

Cream of Fava Bean Soup

Fava beans — larger than lima or butter beans — are packed with flavor and nutrition.

Remember Jack who sold the family cow for a few beans — and they turned out to be a magical variety? When you think of fava beans, think of the old English children’s classic, “Jack and the Beanstalk” kind of beans. Yes, these are most likely the original fairy tale legumes.

Fava beans never quite caught on in America, maybe because we have so many varieties of legumes and grains otherwise. But these large, brown beans have been around a long, long time and are one of the earliest plants ever cultivated. In the Old World, they were the only bean that Europeans consumed until they came to America and took our varieties home with them and began planting them as well. The English call them broad beans, and they are also known as Windsor beans, horse beans, and pigeon beans.

It seems the whole world has been eating fava beans for centuries and centuries. They have always been extremely popular here in the Mid East and used in Mediterranean cuisine. Today they are very available and inexpensive. I love the taste — very flavorful and rustic — more tasty than any bean I have ever eaten.

We are in Jerusalem now, and I found a package of dried beans in the kitchen cupboard. Today is as good as any day to use them. They are a bit labor intensive because they must be par-boiled and then shelled and boiled again. But I rather enjoyed the process this morning, especially with not much else on hand at the moment.

I rinsed and par-boiled them and then put some classical music on and began shelling my fava beans to the tune of “Midnight Sonata.” Sometimes a quiet morning and a simple task with your hands is very therapeutic. Joy. Joy. The mindless work with desired purpose sort of released a few burdens that I didn’t even realize I had ben carrying. I really enjoyed making this soup today!

So here’s my recipe for Cream of Fava Bean Soup. And It turned out great. My hubby said it made him swallow his tongue!

It’s Valentine’s Day. So… it’s my heartfelt gift to the love of my life.

Cream of Fava Bean Soup

1 lb. potatoes, peeled and cubed

16 oz. shelled fava beans (frozen or dried and boiled)

Place the water, onion, carrot, potatoes, fava beans, and garlic in a large sauce pan. Cook over high heat and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and simmer the soup, stirring occasionally, for about 30 minutes or until all the veggies and beans are tender. Puree the soup using a stick blender or blender. Stir in ½ cup cream or half and half (milk or reduced fat milk may be used, but not as rich) and bullion cube. Heat on low until cube is melted. Taste and add pepper and salt if needed. Garnish with chopped green onions or dollop of sour cream and sprinkling of powdered paprika or chili powder.


First make your puree. Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.

Peel your carrots and cut into 1 inch pieces.

Use about 1/4 of an onion, leave it whole, don't chop it. Toss the carrots and the onion in Olive Oil and Salt.

Place on a silpat lined baking sheet and cook for 35 minutes - shaking the pan halfway through. Once they're tender enough to be poked with a paring knife easily, they're done.

Place the carrots and onion in a blender/Vitamix.

Add to the blender your ginger powder, heavy cream, tahini, cumin powder, and a pinch of cayenne. Process until it's completely smooth - about 1 minute.

Taste and season with salt - process again for 10 more seconds. Pass the contents of the blender through a fine mesh strainer to remove any grittiness.

When ready to serve the puree, place in a small pot and heat up over a medium flame on the stove.

For the fish: Heat up a medium sized saute pan - add your Canola Oil.

Once hot, season your fish on both sides with salt. Add the fish, skin side down to the pan and cook about 2-3 minutes until your fish is halfway cooked.

Flip the fish over and cook til it's cooked through.

Plate the Carrot Puree, place the fish on top.

In the same pan you were sautéing your fish, dump out any excess oil.

Place your butter in the pan and cook until it starts to brown slightly.

Add in your lemon juice, swirl around the pan for 5 seconds, then ladle over the fish.

Finish the plate with some de-shelled broad beans and top the fish with a mix of thin sliced nori and pea shoots.

Watch the video: Σούπα με λαχανικά -Soupa me lahanika - (June 2022).


  1. Telutci

    Matchless topic

  2. Akijar

    No your business!

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