I live in Brooklyn, which I now perceive to be the center of the universe. Time was when I would simply refuse to venture there from Manhattan: Brooklyn was amorphous, endless, and dark and I always got furiously lost. Now, two years in, I joyfully continue to peel away Brooklyn’s onion layers. One lucky day I happened upon a little coffee shop, Smooch, on Carlton Avenue. It was busy but quiet, full of bonhomie and mellow Australians, full of the smell of fantastic Sumatran beans and curry. So I had a latte (spectacular) and read the paper while sneakily watching the cook add some ginger to a stockpot, along with some wine and other ingredients from under the counter. Time passed then I noticed spoonfuls of soup were being offered up for comment by the owner, Basquali. I moved in for a taste. I know soup. I understand the layering of flavors, the need for balance and development; I could help! Turns out I couldn’t. This soup was perfection. Inspired, I went home and from a thumbnail sketch of the main ingredients, created a recipe. It seemed almost a shame to ensnare such relaxed creativity on a plain white page but I did anyway. The split peas cascaded so fast out of their bag into the soaking water that I ended up making rather a lot of soup. I held back the finish of lemon juice and presented the soup to guests with a wedge of lemon for them to squeeze in themselves. Why don’t you try Basquali’s Curried Split Pea Soup and tell me what you think?[...]

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A Quiet Little Soup, Full of Fire and Music