The regional table / Virginia
Virginia Peanut Soup
Virginia serves this as a colonial dish, and the Virginia cookbooks of the colonial and antebellum record do not contain it anywhere.
Three books, one absence. Mary Randolph's The Virginia House-wife of 1824 — the fourth edition is the one readable on the Internet Archive — has no peanut in it under any name: not peanut, not pea nut, not ground nut, not goober, not pindar. Housekeeping in Old Virginia, gathered in 1879 by Marion Cabell Tyree from two hundred and fifty Virginia housekeepers, has none either, in any spelling, anywhere in its five hundred pages. Mary Stuart Smith's Virginia Cookery-Book of 1885 has exactly one, and it is a Christmas confection of citron, raisins, figs, almonds and "one pint of peanuts before they are hulled," boiled up with coffee-sugar and vinegar. Virginia's printed kitchens simply did not make soup out of the crop the state was becoming famous for.
The crop record tells you why, and where the nut came from. W. N. Roper's The Peanut and Its Culture, published in 1905 out of the Virginia trade, opens by saying that fifty years earlier peanuts grew in America "only in the gardens of a few persons in the Tidewater counties of Virginia and the Carolinas, almost as curiosities," and that the commercial crop "dates from the years immediately following the Civil War." Its chapter on origin, by H. Harold Hume, traces the plant to Brazil and then to West Africa, where Sloane recorded it being used by slave-dealers "to feed the negroes on the passage from Africa," and from there "brought to the British Colonies in America by the slave-ships, and was subsequently planted and cultivated in the Southern Colonies of Virginia and Carolina." The peanut arrived in Virginia in the holds of slave ships, and the cooking of peanuts into a thickened savoury soup is West African practice long before it is Virginian. The earliest printed peanut soups I could find are in a bulletin by a Black scientist: George Washington Carver, How to Grow the Peanut and 105 Ways of Preparing It for Human Consumption, Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute Experiment Station, Bulletin No. 31, March 1916. There are four of them plus a bisque and a consommé, and this recipe is built on his number two.
Why this version works
Cayenne against the fat. A cup of peanut butter carries something like 130 grams of fat, and fat that heavy flattens everything on the palate. Carver's consommé takes "a few grains of cayenne" for the same reason. Heat and a squeeze of lemon at the end cut through it; without them the soup is rich and monotonous by the fourth spoonful.
Straining is not optional. Carver says to "strain through a fine sieve," and every version that skips it is grainy. Roasted peanuts never grind fine enough to disappear, and the gritty suspension that results coats the mouth unpleasantly and dulls the flavour. Pushing the soup through a sieve costs five minutes and changes the texture from porridge to velvet.
A butter-and-flour base under the nut. Ground peanuts do not thicken a liquid, they suspend in it, and a peanut soup without starch separates into oily scum over watery stock within a minute of leaving the heat. Three tablespoons of flour cooked in butter holds the whole thing in one piece from the pot to the table, which is exactly what Carver's "rub flour into a smooth paste" is doing.
Carver's aromatics, not just peanuts and milk. His first soup is a plain one: peanuts boiled soft, skinned, ground, cooked twenty minutes in a quart of milk, thickened with flour and butter. His second adds "1 small onion minced very fine, 1 bay leaf, 1 stalk celery chopped very fine," then thickens, strains and serves. That second version is the one worth cooking. Peanut on its own reads as peanut butter thinned out; onion and celery give it a savoury floor to stand on and make it taste like soup.