Cold Zucchini and Summer Squash Soup

People in Los Angeles think it's hot—this is debatable. Hot is not 85º. 85º is warm, certainly, but if we start calling that hot, then what do we call 105º? Regardless, it's still warm enough out to make me:

• turn the AC on in the car, which makes me feel like a wimp
• go to a movie during the day. I went to see 'Public Enemies.' And, you know, it would have been a great movie except that John Dillinger led a pretty interesting life and the movie tried to get it all in there—overambitious. I thought studios were all about sequels these days and, yet, here's a movie that is asking to be made into separate parts and no. No sequels for you, John Dillinger.
• want to eat cold soup that's not gazpacho. I've already made gazpacho once this year and that's my limit.
  

Enter: cold zucchini soup. And, since it was in my refrigerator, shaming me for buying it at the farmers' market and waiting a week before I remembered it, summer squash.

To explain my relationship with zucchini soup, let me start off by saying that my grandmother makes soup better than your grandmother. Or mother. Or my mother. Better than anyone I know. We can fight about it if you feel strongly about it—that's how strongly I feel about it. My grandmother's soupmaking is so ethereal, though, so hard to pin down, she just looks at what she has in the fridge or freezer and puts some stuff in a pressure cooker and does other things and then, all of a sudden, the immersion blender is in use and the soup is done. So, even if I pay close attention and stay in the kitchen with her during the entire morning, I'll never get an actual recipe out of it because she does it so casually and so interspersed with other things that I hardly notice the soupmaking portions of the process that is making lunch. (Also, I don't stick around the kitchen because (1) I often get fussed at and (2) if someone is willing to make me lunch, who am I to ruin it by helping too much? I'll do the dishes afterwards instead.) And, the soup is different all the time, depending on what's on hand. Still, zucchini soup makes appearances often.

Of my grandmother's many talents (which include, but are by no means limited to, identifying fevers before the sick person feels like they have a fever, learning and speaking languages, making one feel ashamed of oneself for not doing a task that one is supposed to do and having that shame prompt the task to get done, and talking to strangers), soupmaking is one of the ones from which I benefit most. There is soup at her house daily, even if it's warm out. I can't bring myself to eat hot soup in warm weather if it's not being served to me, but I really like zucchini soup and now is prime zucchini season. This is the answer.


Cold Zucchini and Summer Squash Soup
Adapted from Bon Appetit and my grandmother

2-3 tbsp olive oil and maybe some butter, if you have it and aren't afraid of it
1 medium onion, sliced or chopped (Katie, I used a Walla Walla sweet onion in your honor)
2 garlic cloves, sliced or crushed, your choice
6-9 medium zucchini or summer squash, or a mix
4 cups broth
sour cream, for garnish

*You'll need a blender or an immersion blender for this. Because you will be blending everything smooth, it doesn't matter how well you slice or chop the vegetables—great, right? But, large chunks still probably aren't a good idea because that will affect cooking time. What I'm saying is: do a mediocre job at chopping, but not a sloppy one.

In a large pot over medium heat, cook the onions and garlic in the olive oil and/or butter until they're brown. It sounds pretentious but, if you are patient and cook the onion until it's really brown and delicious, that taste will infiltrate the rest of your soup and it's totally worth the extra time.

Add zucchini and summer squash, toss with the onions. Add the broth and bring to a boil.

Once boiling, cover, lower heat to a simmer, and cook 10 minutes, until zucchini are tender.

Let cool to lukewarm and blend. Serve lukewarm or cold. Garnish with sour cream—it's kind of great because the soup is somehow, mysteriously, creamy and the sour cream adds a nice tanginess.

Also, I found I didn't need to add any salt to this, but I think it's because the store-bought broth I used had salt already. If using homemade, don't forget.

My grandmother sometimes puts very small meatballs in her soup, Bon Appetit suggests shrimp. I added sausage so that it was more of a meal; this wasn't a bad idea either.