Making-Do Mineštra (Minestrone, Pandemic-style)

It was late summer, about a month after I had made that tasty jota, when I rediscovered another Slovenian soup/stew. 

My husband was feeling at a loss about what to make for dinner. He reported we had some spicy chicken garlic sausage on hand, along with a head of cabbage. And some zucchini that needed to be used soon. It would be easy enough to just make the sausage with cabbage and serve some zucchini on the side, but that didn't seem to inspire him.

"I bet I can figure something out," I offered. I had a feeling there was some Slovenian dish I had made once or twice with those ingredients and started browsing the recipe list on this blog.

And there it was, Slovenian minestrone. 

How did I forget how satisfying this simple dish is?

It was one of the dishes I discovered in 2012, my year of Slovenian cooking. I made it again the following year, when I did more research and discovered how many variations there are: With beans and without, with pasta or rice, and a variety of meat choices (including none at all). That second version was even better than the first. But I realized there was nothing fixed about the recipe, especially when it came to the veggie possibilities.

Even working from our more limited pantry, I discovered that we had most of the ingredients I had used that last time. In fact, they had become our pandemic staples: Sausage, usually chicken or turkey versions. Dried beans and canned tomatoes. Pasta. Onions, garlic, cabbage, carrots, and parsley. Luckily, we happened to have a few potatoes this week. But no leeks, peas or celery root, those interesting additions from last time. We did have regular celery--and some zucchini to add. No parsley for a final garnish. But we did have plenty of white wine, for drinking as well as for cooking

I was all set to make the minestrone myself. But then I figured this might be a good time to deputize my husband, since he seemed more in need of a project. So I printed up the recipe from the last time--and was surprised to realize that salt and pepper had been the only seasonings. I suggested he might want to add some marjoram. He agreed, and he also decided to cook the beans with some bay leaves.

As I suspected, this improvised version was delicious. I was reminded once again that beans you cook yourself taste better, although the canned variety is a perfectly acceptable option. Like most soups and stews, the minestrone tasted better on the second and third days.  It was a hearty and sustaining choice as  we headed into our sixth month of sheltering in place.

Mineštra, pandemic style

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/2  large onion, chopped

1 large leek, sliced But it works fine to omit!

1-2 large cloves garlic, chopped

1/2 head cabbage (green this time), sliced

1 large carrot, sliced

1 medium potato, unpeeled, cubed

1 celery root, peeled and cubed--or 2-3 stalks of celery, sliced

1 large zucchini, cubed (A nice addition this time!) 

1/4 cup fresh parsley, minced (if you have it!) 

1 cup chopped tomatoes with juice

10 oz (4 or 5) smoked chicken garlic sausages, sliced 

2 quarts water

1 c. peas, frozen or fresh But it works fine to omit! 

1/2 cup small dried pasta

1 can borlotti beans 1-1/2 cup cooked red beans, prepared with bay leaves

1-2 teaspoons salt 

freshly ground pepper

1 teaspoon marjoram 

white wine to taste

shaved parmesan for garnish

parsley for garnish (if you have it!)

If you are using dried beans, prepare them in advance and set aside. Prepare the other vegetables. If you use a leek, be careful to cut and soak the bulb to remove any grit before slicing.

Heat olive oil in a large Dutch oven. Add the onion and garlic and brown. Add leek, cabbage and sausage and brown. Add the remaining vegetables (except for the beans), seasonings, and water. Cover and simmer. Taste and adjust seasoning. Toward the end, add pasta and prepared beans and continue simmering for a half hour. If desired, add some white wine. Serve with grated parmesan cheese and parsley for garnish. 

Slovenian Dinner Week 45: Minestrone Makeover

Menu
Mineštra II, Minestone Makeover
Salad Nicoise

It was the third Tuesday of November.  Two days before Thanksgiving.

Not a week when I could spend a leisurely morning reading cookbooks, come up with a few options, and then stroll to the market to see what looked good.

It had to be relatively easy.  Not too heavy.  Something that could be made in advance and reheated, or started early and left to simmer.  We would be eating early, since our Cajun band had a gig.

I went back to the early months of this cooking project, to find a likely dish that I hadn’t yet made over.  There were a few contenders.  Maybe a nice soup?

Finally, I had it. Mineštra, Slovenian minestrone.  My first version of mineštra, back in June, had been delicious. Another one of those deceptively simple, familiar dishes that packs a lot of flavor.  It struck me as particularly appealing.  Soothing.  My husband had mentioned that he had just bought a can of borlotti beans, too.

That first time, I had used some chicken-apple sausage we had in the fridge.  It was a little too sweet. Next time, I resolved to use a more suitable sausage, with Italian or Mediterranean seasonings.  Or maybe Polish sausage.  Chicken or turkey, if I could find it.  And instead of rice, I would try pasta, as some recipes suggested.  Whole wheat, or even gluten free, to make it healthier.

And one more plus. We could have leftovers for a light lunch on Thanksgiving, to fill in that awkward need-to-eat-a-little-something gap before the big meal.

I couldn't resist doing a little searching in my cookbook collection.   There seemed to be a few minestrone variations: with beans (fižol), like my original version. Without beans, or Primorska style. And eclectic.

Primorska mineštra skips the beans but has some creative vegetable additions (leeks, celery root, kohlrabi, cauliflower), along with bacon.  I found virtually identical recipes on the Slovenian government website and in Slovenian Cookery, Slavko Adamlje's 1996 book.

Going beyond Slovenia, I found a couple of interesting versions in Olga Novak-Markovic’s Yugoslav Cookbook (1986.)  Istra Minestrone has pork ribs, sweet corn, young tender beans, pasta, and unspecified soup vegetables.  The Dubrovnik version has brussels sprouts, courgettes, pork and mutton, potatoes, French beans, and bacon.

I decided to keep it simple, with maybe just a few new vegetable choices, along with pasta and a spicier sausage.

When I went shopping, at  eleven in the morning, the pre-holiday shopping frenzy had already begun, with Thanksgiving just two days away.  Especially at the butcher shop, where folks were already lined up at the single checkout line.

So I decided to cross the butcher off my list and see what I could find at the cheese shop two doors down, one of my regular haunts, where they had started to carry a nice assortment of sausages.  They had nothing in the way of chicken and turkey alternatives.  But plenty of pork, which would make a Slovenian smile.  I bought a package of lightly smoked savory herb pork sausage.  Made right here in Berkeley. No antibiotics, hormones, gluten, MSG, nitrates, nitrites. All-vegetarian feeds. Couldn't go wrong with that.

The parking lot of the big produce market on the corner was like an obstacle course.  But I didn’t need much, just a potato and a couple of the vegetable alternatives I wanted to try: a leek and a single, knobby celery root. While I was there, I bought some whole wheat pasta elbows. I was ready to go.

Mineštra II, Minestrone Makeover

2 T. olive oil
1/2  large onion, chopped
1 large leek, sliced
1 large clove garlic,chopped
1/2 head red cabbage, sliced
1 large carrot, sliced
1 medium potato, unpeeled, cubed
1 celery root, peeled and cubed
1/4 c. fresh parsley, minced
1 c. chopped tomatoes with juice
10 oz. smoked pork sausage (4 or 5), sliced
2 quarts water
1 c. peas, frozen or fresh
1/2 c. whole wheat pasta elbows
1 can borlotti beans
2 t. salt or to taste
freshly ground pepper
white wine
more fresh parsley

First prepare the vegetables. To prepare the leek, cut off most of the green end.  Cut remaining bulb lengthwise and soak in water.  Rinse well to remove grit, then slice thinly and set aside.  Chop onion and garlic as usual. Slice the cabbage and carrot. Cube the potato.  Peel and cube that knobby celery root. (That was a new experience for me!)

Heat olive oil in large Dutch oven. Add onion and garlic and brown.  Add leek and continue to cook. Add cabbage and sausage and brown.  Add remaining vegetables (except for beans and peas) and water. Cover and simmer. Taste and adjust seasoning.  Toward the end, add pasta and simmer. Add peas. Stir in some white wine and top with more parsley. Serve with grated parmesan cheese.

The soup was simmering, the dishes were washed, and I was giving the counters a final swipe when my husband got home from work.

“That’s definitely the smell of Central Europe,"  he said approvingly.

He was right.

What is it that creates that smell?  It is comforting, slightly musty.  Both familiar and exotic. I connect it with paprika.  But there was no paprika in this dish.  Another part of it, I think, is a sauce that includes tomatoes, but is not tomato-based. Is it a flavor defined by absence?  The surprise of tomato, without the near-ubiquitous Italian seasonings that are often the default flavor choice in American cooking? Tomato with parsley? Does it also require cabbage?

The soup simmered for a long time.  I finally turned it off, fearing that the canned beans or the pasta might disintegrate.

We served the mineštra with some salad nicoise my husband had made for the previous night’s dinner.

The verdict: It was delicious. Better with the more flavorful sausage—and more of it, too, this time.  But we could have managed with less.

I had never cooked with celery root before, although my husband informed me that he had served it grated, as part of his wonderful coleslaw creations.  Raw, it had a strong celery flavor.  Cooked, the flavor was mild and pleasant. The cubes were hard to distinguish from the potatoes—in fact, it might be a good, lower-carb potato alternative.

I noticed, when I went to take photos, that the soup looked a little monochromatic, compared to the first version.  I added more parsley.

It was only the next day that I realize what I had missed: The green peas!  So I added them. Better late than never.

Luckily, we still had enough left over to serve as a pre-dinner snack on Thanksgiving Day.

Slovenian Dinner Week 22: Mineštra, Not Just for Italians!

Menu
Mineštra (Slovenian Minestrone)
Coleslaw
French bread

I hadn't paid much attention to  the recipe for mineštra in Treasured Slovenian and International Recipes, my never-fail vintage cookbook from the  Progressive Slovene Women of America.

The recipe seemed too familiar.  Too Italian, maybe.

When  I woke up Tuesday morning, I didn't feel like getting out of bed, much less cooking. I could feel a cold coming on.   And Sauce Piquante, my Cajun band, was supposed to practice at our house that night.

Suddenly that Slovenian minestrone seemed like a perfect choice.   Easy comfort food.  And I had almost everything on hand.  So why not?

I made a few changes in the recipe from that 1950s cookbook.   As usual,  I used olive oil instead of lard or drippings. I was a little more generous with the vegetables.  As a short cut, I used canned beans instead of cooking them from scratch.  At least they were those genuine, hard-to-find Roman beans.  Instead of canned peas, I used frozen.

The recipe called for smoked sausages or chopped ham.  I used smoked chicken apple sausages from the butcher shop around the corner.


1 medium onion, chopped
1 large clove garlic, minced
2 T. olive oil
½ head cabbage (part green, part red) sliced
2 smoked chicken apple sausages, sliced
1 can Roman beans (borlotti beans)
1 c. baby carrots
1 medium potato
¼ c. fresh parsley
cherry tomatoes, equal to 2 regular
2 stalks celery
2 quarts water
1 c. frozen peas
¼ c. rice
salt and pepper to taste


Brown onion and garlic in oil.  Add cabbage and sausage and let brown.  Add remaining ingredients except for peas and rice.  Cover and simmer.  Adjust seasonings.  When vegetables are almost tender, add rice, cover,  and simmer for 15 minutes more.  Add peas and simmer for 5 more minutes.

It was comforting to see that nice pot of soup bubbling away on the stove!

When it was time to eat, we sprinkled the soup with freshly grated parmesan cheese and had some coleslaw and bread alongside.

The verdict?  Delicious and comforting.  I even felt revived enough to play the Cajun accordion!

The one change I would make next time:  A spicier sausage.   The chicken-apple was a healthy choice, but a little mild for our taste.  Next time, I'll use Italian or Polish sausage. Unless, of course, I have some authentic Slovenian klobase handy!