Carrot Bisque. I’m pretty confident that somewhere, more than 3,000 miles away from my kitchen, my father just threw up.
Do I know how to introduce a recipe or what?!
My Dad, in most regards, is the epitome of the American Man. Proud republican, firm believer that “good things come to those who work hard,” and avid consumer of pizza, cheeseburgers, coffee, and Chinese takeout. Man do I love when my Dad visits; we always get pizza one night, Chinese the next. He refuses to drink my organic Mediterranean coffee, so instead he walks across the street to Starbucks every morning and brings me back a cup. No complaints here. Then before he flies home, he makes sure I’m stocked up on paper towels and ice cream. What a guy.
And he never fails to remind me I should really get a dining room table. “Are you sure you don’t want a table for right over there? Just a small one, two chairs… it would…”
Oh. For ‘right over there,’ Dad? You mean that 4×4′ corner that separates my bed from the sink? Yeah let me get a table and two chairs for my one butt so you can have a place to spread your laptop, two iPads, cell phone, and 19 chargers during the five days a year you visit me.
He means well.
I don’t know a single person who doesn’t love my father. He’s the ‘funny guy,’ able to crack a smile on literally anyone’s face. All growing up, as young as middle school, my friends would ask if he could hang out with us. “Can your Dad come to the movies too, Sara?” Seriously.
That said, my Dad being the all-American guy that he is, I imagine having his only child be an artistically-inclined female has probably been slightly terrifying for him. He knows man stuff. Baseball. Motorcycles. And yet what has he been dragged to my whole life? Opera recitals. Choir concerts. Horse shows. Yoga classes. Vegan restaurants. He has never failed to remind me what a “freak of nature” I am. You’re right, Dad. No one who sings songs and eats vegetables could be from this planet.
I say this lightly, because as unfamiliar some of my interests have been to my father, he has supported me 100% through all of them. I know he’s always joking when he gives me a hard time; he’s sat through the recitals and tried to give feedback to prove he didn’t fall asleep. He’s pumped his fists and yelled “YEAH. Woo! That’s my girl!” over the applauding crowds at the choir concerts. He’s told me to “put your game face on. Get in the zone.” before I’ve walked out to sing at competitions. And perhaps most nobly of all, he ate with me at a handful of vegan restaurants back in the day.
For a man who would be content to eat a cheeseburger washed down by a beer as every meal for the rest of his life, this is a big deal. Out of all the things I’ve ever done, I think my veganism made him the most uncomfortable. If the topic ever came up around other people and they’d ask what I’d eat, he’d be quick to tell them to just set me under a tree outside and let me graze. He firmly refused to try anything I made. But if we were on a trip and there was a vegan restaurant I wanted to try, he’d bite the bullet and go.
He is so glad those days are behind me. And he’s even starting to admit I’m an okay cook. He called me the other day to tell me he’s been “reading some of my posts. One of them looked good.” He said while he would absolutely not ever be eating pickled vegetables, “the shrimp… I’d eat that.”
Such a compliment from my father. I can’t wait to hear his opinions on this Moroccan Carrot Bisque with Roasted Chickpeas. Everything about this dish epitomizes all things he dislikes about “health food.” The vegetables. The color. The little pea things. The reference to an African country in the name.
More for me. This is seriously good soup. I will say, even as a vegan, I’ve never been into eating a meal made entirely out of vegetables. Don’t get me wrong, I loveeee veggies, and often they’re my favorite part of a dish, but a salad is not dinner. Unless it has “stuff” in it. The one comment that used to seriously grind my vegan gears was “you can always order a salad.” I would look at whoever said it on our way to the restaurant and yell in my head, “YOU ORDER A FREAKING SALAD.”
If using whole wheat flour in place of white makes my cake dense and taste bad, I’m not going to use it. If swapping butter for an avocado makes my browies taste like a freaking chocolate avocado, I’ll stick to butter. The same applies when it comes to veggie-based meals. Those better be some tasty, filling veggies.
This Moroccan Carrot Bisque is made with two entire pounds of carrots, an onion, spices, broth, and a touch of coconut milk. That is it. Considering it is over 90% vegetables, my goodness is it rich. Rich in a “that was a damn good meal” way, not the “I don’t think I’ll be moving for the rest of the evening” way. Thick, creamy, super flavorful, and vegan. It’s great on it’s own, but topped with roasted garbanzo beans, it becomes a crave-worthy meal. Have you ever roasted chickpeas? I hadn’t! I used to eat them plain in my salads every single day for years. I love chickpeas, and roasting turns them into something totally new and different. They crisp up on the outside and stay soft in the center. When thrown on top of this soup they provide a contrast of texture, bits of crunch that are even better than crackers or croutons.
This Moroccan Carrot Bisque with Roasted Chickpeas requires just 15 minutes of active cooking, and is ready in 45. Make a big pot to pack for lunches throughout the week, or freeze it for later. The chickpeas are great hot or cold. I made a double batch so I’d have extra for snacks. Like these guys, they are as addicting as chips. Except with way more nutritional benefit from all the fiber, protein, and minerals.
If you’re looking to get a few hearty servings of vegetables in you diet but still want to eat something for lunch or dinner you can look forward to, this soup is for you!
Moroccan Carrot Bisque with Roasted Chickpeas
Hearty, spiced carrot bisque topped with crisp roasted garbanzo beans.
- 1 Tbs. coconut oil
- 1 yellow onion, chopped
- 1 clove garlic, chopped
- 2 tsp. fresh ginger, chopped
- 1 tsp. coriander
- 1/2 tsp. cumin
- 1/2 turmeric
- 1/4 allspice
- 1/8 tsp. cinnamon
- 3/4 tsp. salt, more to taste
- Black pepper
- 2 lbs. carrots, peeled and chopped
- 4 cups vegetable broth
- 1/2 cup coconut milk, plus more for drizzling*
- 1 1/2 tsp. lemon or lime juice
- 1 (15oz) can garbanzo beans, drained, rinsed, and patted dry
- 2 tsp. olive oil
- 1/4 tsp. paprika
- Dash each of cumin, coriander, and garlic powder
- Salt & black pepper
Preheat your oven to 375. Line a baking sheet with parchment, tin foil, or a silicone baking mat.
To make the soup, warm the coconut oil in a stockpot over medium heat. Add the onions and sauté until translucent, about 4-5 minutes. Stir in the garlic, ginger, and spices and cook a minute longer until fragrant.
Add the carrots and stir to coat with the onions and spices, then pour in the vegetable broth. Cover the pot and bring to a boil. Once boiling, reduce the heat to medium low and simmer for 25-30 minutes, until the carrots are very tender. Remove from the heat and allow to cool for about 5 minutes, until no longer steaming hot.
While your soup simmers, roast the chickpeas. Toss the beans in the olive oil and spread on the baking sheet. Sprinkle the spices, salt, and pepper over the top and stir to coat. Roast for 25-30 minutes, until browned and crisp. Remove from the oven and allow to cool slightly.
While the chickpeas cool, return to the soup. Pour the vegetables and broth into a large blender or food processor, and puree until very smooth. Return the soup to the stockpot. Add the coconut milk and lemon or lime juice, and cook until heated through.
To serve, ladle soup into a bowl, drizzle with a little extra coconut milk, if desired, top with roasted chickpeas, and eat.
*Coconut milk from a can, not the refrigerated carton or shelf-stable box. Full fat or lite are both fine.