We asked a dozen photographers from The Everyday Projects — a global community of photographers using images to challenge harmful stereotypes — to share their favorite healing soups. If you missed the first installment, check it out here. Hope you’re ready for seconds, because we’ve got another batch.

The recipes below have been adapted to make them accessible to home cooks everywhere. In the stories below about the soups, you may spot ingredients that the average shopper is unlikely to encounter at their local grocery store. (Good luck finding “a chicken that has not yet sung,” waterleaf harvested at 5 a.m. and zebu organs.) We’ve provided substitutions that will hopefully help you cook up something similar.

We’d also like to hear from you about healing soups in your family repertoire. Send a brief description to goatsandsoda@npr.org with the subject line “soup.” We hope to include reader recipes in a follow-up story.

Brazil

From a chicken that has not yet sung

By Ana Caroline de Lima

In Serranópolis de Minas, a rural town in southeastern Brazil, Aparecida Gomes, 60, stirs a pot of pirão de galinha, a traditional Brazilian dish made by mixing broth (often chicken broth) with flour and usually served with rice. This dish has been prescribed by midwives to postpartum women for generations and is meant to fortify the body, enrich breast milk and ward off infection (despite a lack of scientific evidence for the claims).

Aparecida learned to make pirão from her mother, Rita Maria Gomes, 80, a former midwife. “When I was younger, the way we cared for women after childbirth was rooted in nature,” Rita says. “We used what the land gave us — herbs, broths and the wisdom passed down from our ancestors. The postpartum foods and remedies we prepared were essential not only for healing but for strengthening a woman’s body after childbirth.”

In the backyard, Aparecida’s brother, Geraldo Gomes, 62, prepares arroz afogado, pounding red rice with a wooden pestle. He planted and harvested the rice himself. The rice simmers in water with salt, pepper and onions, bubbling into a thick, hearty paste after nearly two hours over a fogão a lenha, a slow-burning wood stove that lets the flavors deepen.

“Women ate this rice with the pirão,” Geraldo says, watching the flames flicker beneath the pot. “It prevents anemia, gives strength. I read somewhere it’s rich in iron, antioxidants — good for the body, good for those who are weak.”

Both the pirão and the red rice dish are seasoned with pork lard. But according to tradition, it must come from a castrated male pig, never a female, for they say female pork is remoso, prone to causing inflammation.

There are similarly strict rules about the chicken in the pirão. “As a woman nears childbirth, a hen has to be set to brood, ensuring that by the time the baby arrives, the chicken will be the right age for the dish. It can’t be just any bird — it has to be one that hasn’t started to sing yet,” Aparecida says. There is a saying in the region that translates as “fresh chicken, fresh health.”

Women would eat this dish for 15 days in a row, while men, tempted by the rich broth, waited for their share. “This soup is for women who just had a baby, but it’s so good that men help themselves to a bowl when their wives aren’t looking,” Geraldo says with a laugh while watching his sister cook.

Rita worries that this tradition is slipping. “I fear that one day, no one will remember the old ways,” she says, her voice filled with concern. “The knowledge we’ve passed down, the things we’ve learned through experience, seem to be getting lost with each generation. It saddens me to think that my grandchildren might not know how to make pirão the way I taught my children.”

The recipe: Pirão de galinha and arroz afogado

Traditionally, pirão de galinha is a soup prescribed by midwives to postpartum women. It is believed to heal the body, promote breastmilk production and protect against infection. The red rice typically used for the arroz afogado, the pirão’s companion dish, is a prized Brazilian heirloom rice, rich in antioxidants, calcium and magnesium.

In her recipe for pirão de galinha, Aparecida Gomes calls for a chicken “that has not yet sung.” In his recipe for arroz afogado, her brother, Geraldo, insists that the rice be seasoned with lard “from a castrated male pig.” These finer points suggest a way of life profoundly in sync with the rhythms of the natural world.

Since ingredients meeting these specifications are not widely available in most places, this adapted recipe focuses on replicating the healing, restorative qualities of these dishes by making a rich, flavorful chicken stock and using whole grain rice with the nutritious bran still intact.

These two dishes are meant to be eaten together. The rice should be made first because once the pirão is ready, it should be served immediately.

Cassava or manioc flour can be found in the baking aisle of many grocery stores, alongside other non-wheat-based flours. It is also available online.

The recipe: Pirão de galinha

Active time: 1 hour
Total time: 2-2 ½ hours
Yield: 6-8 servings

Ingredients
1 ½ pounds chicken wings
1 ½ pounds chicken drumsticks
3 tablespoons pork lard (or coconut oil)
1 large onion

1 tablespoon annatto seeds
salt to taste
1 cup cold water
1 cup cassava flour (aka manioc flour)

Line a sheet pan with paper towels. Lay out the drumsticks and wings on the paper towels and salt generously. Then turn each piece over and salt the other side. Let sit for 15 minutes. This allows for the seasoning to penetrate the meat and tenderize it, making for a more flavorful broth.

Melt the lard in a large pot on medium high until it shimmers. Add the chicken wings and drumsticks to the pot, skin side down. Cook until the chicken skin turns golden brown, about 5-7 minutes. While the chicken is browning, cut the onion into quarters. Keep the onion skin on. This will add flavor and a golden color to the stock.

Once the chicken pieces have turned golden brown, add the onion and annatto seeds and stir. Then add enough water to submerge the chicken and cover. Bring the pot to a boil, then reduce the heat to low. Add a generous pinch of salt.

Continue cooking at a low simmer until the chicken meat is very tender and falling off the bone, around 1 to 1 ½ hours. The gentle heat of the low flame is what turns the collagen in the chicken skin and connective tissues into gelatin.

Once the chicken is very tender, set a colander on top of a large mixing bowl. Pour the contents of the pot through the colander to catch the solids, with the mixing bowl catching all the chicken stock. Discard the onions and annatto seeds. Reserve the chicken meat for another use and return the broth to the pot. Taste the broth and adjust the seasoning, if needed.

Bring the broth to a steady simmer over medium heat. While the broth is coming to a simmer, pour 1 cup of cold water into a mixing bowl. Add the cassava flour to the cold water in a thin stream, stirring constantly with a whisk to avoid clumping. This will create a thin slurry.

Once the chicken broth has returned to a simmer, pour a thin stream of the cassava slurry into the hot broth, whisking constantly to make sure it is thoroughly incorporated. Cook for 10-15 more minutes, until the broth has thickened. Taste the pirão and add salt if needed.

Ladle into bowls and serve immediately with a side of arroz afogado.

The recipe: Arroz afogado

In place of Brazilian red rice, this recipe uses a mix of black wild rice and short grain brown rice in an attempt to replicate the texture and nutrition found in the original. The goal is to cook the rice long enough for the grains to start to stick and clump together.

Active time: 45 minutes
Total time: 1 ½-2 hours
Servings: 6-8 servings

Ingredients
¾ cup black wild rice
¾ cup short grain brown rice
1 medium yellow onion
4 cloves of garlic
2 tablespoons pork lard (or coconut oil)
salt to taste

Heat a large saucepan on medium. When a sprinkle of water dances in the pan, add the the wild rice and the brown rice. Toast the rice in the dry pan, stirring constantly, until the rice smells nutty. Make sure not to burn the rice. Pour the toasted rice into a bowl and set aside.

Chop the medium onion. Smash the cloves of garlic with the side of a knife. Remove the garlic skins and chop the cloves.

Heat the lard (or coconut oil) on medium heat in the same saucepan. When it starts to shimmer, add the onion and garlic and sauté until golden brown. Stay vigilant and stir constantly, so the onions and garlic don’t take on too much color or burn.

Once the onions and garlic are golden brown, add the toasted rice to the pan and mix thoroughly to ensure all the grains are coated in the melted lard. Add 5 cups of water and bring the pot to a boil. After it boils, add a generous pinch of salt and cover the pot halfway with a lid, leaving it slightly open. Reduce the heat to low.

Check the rice every 20 minutes or so and give it a vigorous stir. If it looks like the pan is drying out, keep adding water. Continue cooking the rice, stirring and adding water until the rice grains are puffed and tender. This should take around 45 minutes to 1 hour. When it’s ready, the rice should be pleasantly chewy and sticking together in clumps. Taste the rice and add salt if needed.

Serve alongside the pirão de galinha.

North America

A sweet way to celebrate bitterroot

By Tailyr Irvine

Mary Jane Charlo, 76, stands over two simmering pots — one filled with serviceberries and the other with bitterroot, a perennial plant that thrives in gravelly soil. She will combine these two ingredients to prepare berry soup the way her mother taught her, following a tradition that Bitterroot Salish people, a band of Salish located in western Montana, have carried for centuries.

According to Salish people, sp̓eƛ̓m — or bitterroot — first appeared during a harsh winter, when food was scarce and the people were starving. A grandmother, desperate to save her people, went out to pray. As she cried, her tears fell to the earth, and bitterroot grew where they landed. The root has been a vital source of nourishment, sustaining Salish people through times of scarcity.

Every spring, Charlo joins her family and friends to harvest bitterroot. She carefully peels and cleans each piece before laying it out to dry in the sun. The serviceberries undergo the same drying process. The dried roots and berries are stored in jars and kept for the winter.

Charlo doesn’t measure ingredients precisely. She boils a handful of dried bitterroot until tender, while dried serviceberries cook separately, breaking down to release their flavor. She combines the mixture and, for a thicker consistency, stirs in a blend of flour and water.

The bitterroot combined with antioxidant-packed serviceberries give this soup healing qualities. For Charlo, berry soup is not only about nourishing your body — it’s about connection. “Making it and sharing brings me closer to all the people that taught me all this,” she says. “It reaffirms my existence. I know why I’m here.”

The recipe: Berry soup

Historically, bitterroot (a perennial native to the western United States) has been cooked and eaten for its medicinal properties. Native Americans harvest the edible root and dry it for storage. Traditionally, Native communities have used bitterroot to manage diabetes, treat poison ivy rash and soothe sore throats. To soften the intensity of its bitterness, it is often cooked with berries.

Savas berries, or serviceberries, are packed with antioxidants, iron and dietary fiber. Mildly sweet with a mealy texture, they leave an aftertaste reminiscent of underripe blueberries. Native Americans have used these berries to treat a range of ailments, including colds, toothaches and fevers.

Typically, this recipe would be made with dried serviceberries and dried whole bitterroot. This adapted version of berry soup uses frozen serviceberries and dried pieces of bitterroot, both of which can be ordered online from specialty purveyors. The recipe did not call for sugar, but the intensity of the bitterroot and the tartness of the serviceberries may make you decide to add sweetener.

Active time: 20 minutes
Total time: 45 minutes
Yield: 4-6 servings

Ingredients
2 cups frozen serviceberries
4 cups water
½ ounce dried sp̓eƛ̓m̓ (the spelling in the Salish language family), or bitterroot
3 tablespoons flour

In a small pot, heat the frozen serviceberries on medium heat with 2 cups of water. As the berries warm, break up the frozen chunks with a spoon and stir. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 25-30 minutes, uncovered.

As they simmer, the serviceberries should start to break down and collapse. Mash them with a spoon occasionally to accelerate the process. If the water evaporates too much, exposing the berries, add more water to submerge them.

After the berries have been simmering for 20 minutes, bring 2 cups of water to boil in a separate pot on medium-high heat. When the water boils, add the dried bitterroot and lower the heat to medium. Simmer, covered for 10 minutes.

While the bitterroot is simmering, whisk 3 tablespoons of flour into 1 cup of water in a small bowl to make a slurry. Set aside.

When the dried bitterroot looks plump and reconstituted and the berries have mostly broken down, pour the berries into the pot with the bitterroot and stir.

Slowly add the flour slurry to the bitterroot and berries, stirring to combine. Simmer until the soup thickens, about 10 minutes.

Ladle into bowls and serve.

Singapore

A vegetable soup fit for a king

By Amrita Chandradas

Every time I taste rasam, I feel a connection to my ancestry. As a fifth-generation Singaporean Tamil, a minority group in Singapore, I appreciate that this herbal soup from Tamil Nadu, in southern India, has soothed us for centuries. My 71-year-old mother, Puvaneswari Kannusamy, makes it whenever anyone has a cold or digestion problems.

She shops in Little India for her list of ingredients, including asafoetida (also known as hing), a powder that flavors the soup and is believed to reduce gas and bloating, fight infections, support respiratory health, relieve menstrual pain and more. Many of the spices used, such as turmeric, cumin and black pepper, have potential health benefits.

The precise historical details about rasam — which means juice or flavor in Tamil — have never been clearly recorded, but I came across an interesting story from conversations with people in my community. It is said that rasam may have been created in the 16th century by a chef named Karunas in the city of Madurai. The king’s son fell seriously ill and wouldn’t eat anything, so the king promised a prize to anyone who could make a dish the son would eat. Karunas is believed to have crafted rasam to help the son recover, which is why it is still often considered the go-to dish when someone is sick.

Now, there are many variations of rasam that are commonly prepared in Tamil, Malayalee and Telugu homes in Singapore and around the world. Rasam has a tanginess that comes mainly from tamarind or tomato. It packs a spicy kick from black pepper and dried red chiles, while cumin, mustard seeds and coriander bring an earthy, aromatic depth. Turmeric adds a mild bitterness, and asafoetida, garlic and curry leaves contribute a savory umami. Some versions add a touch of sweetness from jaggery (a kind of sugar).

My mother’s tomato rasam, or thakkali rasam, has been adjusted according to my family’s taste. She adds more tamarind than usual, giving it an extra tangy punch, and incorporates more crushed garlic cloves and white pepper to make it incredibly hot, just the way our family loves it. While the core ingredients remain similar to the traditional rasam recipe, the key difference is the use of gingelly oil (sesame oil) instead of the usual cooking oil to temper the spices. This imparts a distinct, nutty richness that elevates the depth of flavor.

The recipe: Rasam

Rasam is an ancient restorative soup with South Indian Tamil roots. This version comes from the Tamil community in Singapore. With ingredients believed to prevent illness and promote balance in the body, rasam is deeply rooted in Ayurveda, the 5,000-year-old medical system from the Indian subcontinent with a holistic approach to physical, mental and emotional health.

This recipe for rasam uses tempering, a cooking technique used in much of South Asia. It involves adding aromatics to hot oil to enhance a dish with layers of flavor. The infused oil is then poured over the dish, often just before serving.

Tamarind, urad dal, fresh curry leaves, black mustard seeds and asafoetida can be found at Latino, Asian and international grocery stores. They are also widely available online.

Asafoetida, also known as hing, is the dried sap of the ferula plant. It is widely used in South Asian cuisines. Asafoetida, when cooked, adds a flavor similar to leeks or garlic. There has been some debate online as to whether asafoetida is safe for people who are pregnant or breastfeeding to consume.

Active time: 35 minutes
Total time: 50 minutes
Yield: 3-4 servings

Ingredients
3 ounces tamarind pulp
2 small shallots
1 small green chile
6-8 garlic cloves
2 ½ teaspoons black peppercorns
2 teaspoons cumin seeds
2 large tomatoes
4 tablespoons untoasted sesame oil
1/2 bunch of cilantro
6-8 curry leaves
1 teaspoon turmeric powder

1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground white peppercorns
½ teaspoon asafoetida (aka hing) or garlic powder
salt to taste
1 teaspoon black mustard seeds
1 teaspoon white urad dal (aka black gram or black lentil)
3 dried red chiles

Equipment
mortar and pestle

Put the piece of tamarind pulp in a bowl and add just enough boiling water to cover. Steep the tamarind in the hot water for 15 minutes.

While the tamarind is steeping, peel the shallots and trim the ends. Slice off the stem end of the green chile. Smash the cloves of garlic and remove their skins. Finely chop the shallots, green chile and garlic. Set aside.

Coarsely grind the black peppercorns and cumin seeds in a mortar and pestle. Add them to the bowl with the shallots and other aromatics.

Roughly chop the tomatoes and set them aside in a bowl.

In a medium saucepan, heat 2 tablespoons of the sesame oil on medium high. When it starts to shimmer, add the tomatoes and saute until they soften, about 4 minutes.

Next, add the shallots, green chile, garlic, ground black peppercorns and cumin seeds. Stir and simmer for 2 minutes.

Set a mesh sieve over the pot and pour the tamarind pulp and its soaking liquid into the mesh sieve. Carefully and slowly, push the pulp through the mesh sieve into the pot using the back of a wooden spoon. Get as much tamarind through the sieve as possible. Discard the solids.

Roughly chop the cilantro. Add the cilantro to the pot along with 5 of the curry leaves, the ground turmeric, ground cumin, white pepper, asafoetida (or garlic powder) and salt.

Add one cup of water and simmer for 5 more minutes. Salt to taste.

Remove from heat and pour into bowls.

To prepare the tempered spices, heat 2 tablespoons of the sesame oil in a small saucepan or a shallow skillet. When the oil shimmers, add the black mustard seeds. When the seeds start to sputter, add the urad dal and stir.

Once the urad dal turns light brown, add 3 dried red chiles and 2-3 curry leaves. Fry briefly. Make sure to turn on your kitchen fan or open a window. Adding chiles to the hot oil will produce a spicy vapor that may irritate your eyes and nasal passages.

Drizzle a bit of the tempered spices into each bowl. Serve the rasam on its own or with rice.

Botswana

Turn over a new leaf — and cook it

By Atang L.S. Arnold

Morogo, a green leafy vegetable also known as African spinach, is an essential part of the diet in Botswana. Soups made with morogo have been in most of the meals I’ve eaten since childhood. They are served at every wedding and every funeral. I learned to make morogo soup watching both of my parents cook, and I still eat all different types of morogo.

One kind in particular, morogo wa delele, is popular for its alleged healing properties. Delele is a wild local plant, and its slippery texture is believed to create flow in the bones, helping weak joints move more smoothly and easing the process of childbirth. Some Botswanans say it can improve eyesight and provide nutrients to children.

When Boi Maraamele, a visual artist and traditionalist who lives in the village of Maun, sets out to make a batch of morogo wa delele, she needs two tools: a bucket and an eye for spotting perfectly sized leaves. (If leaves are too large, they can taste bitter.) After she harvests a full bucket, she sets apart half to dry under the sun to cook later. The rest she cooks fresh, simmering the greens with tomatoes, onions and spices.

“The nutrients in this soup have sustained the health of our grandparents and children,” says Moses, Boi’s husband. “It’s a staple for our health.”

The recipe: Morogo wa delele

Morogo is a collective noun used throughout southern Africa for different types of leafy greens. It can refer to wild spinach, cowpea leaves or amaranth greens. In this recipe from Botswana, it refers both to okra leaves — also called delele in Setswana — and the dish made with these leaves. In the United States, it’s possible to find frozen okra leaves in international grocery stores or online. However, since flavorful greens are the star of this dish, the freshest leafy greens you can find in your neck of the woods would be worlds better than frozen.

The baking soda in this recipe serves both to tenderize the greens and help them retain their vibrant color.

Active time: 15 minutes
Total time: 25 minutes
Yield: 4-6 servings

Ingredients
¾ pound mix of fresh leafy greens (Swiss chard, collards, kale, spinach, etc.)
1 medium yellow onion
1 large tomato
1 ½ cups of water
1 ¼ teaspoons baking soda
salt to taste

Trim the stems from the greens and discard. Slice the leaves into wide ribbons. Submerge the greens in a large bowl of water and swish them around with your hands to loosen any dirt or grit on the leaves. Soak the greens in the water for two minutes.

Then gently lift the greens out of the bowl into a colander to drain. Take care not to agitate the water, so that all the dirt and grit stays at the bottom of the bowl.

Chop the onion, and cut the tomato into a medium dice.

Boil 1 ½ cups of water in a large saucepan on medium high. Just after the water boils, add a large pinch of salt along with the baking soda. Working quickly, add the greens, tomato and onion all at once. Stir vigorously. Continue cooking until the greens have thoroughly softened.

Season with additional salt to taste and serve.

Nigeria

There must be something in the waterleaf

By Sope Adelaja 

To the Yoruba people of southwestern Nigeria, efo gbure is more than just a meal. It is a reflection of the culture’s reverence for fresh produce and the nurturing qualities of wholesome food. Efo is the Yoruba word for “leafy vegetables,” while gbure specifically refers to waterleaf, which is the key ingredient in this soup renowned for its restorative qualities.

The plant (also known as Talinum triangulare) is high in fiber as well as rich in nutrients like calcium, magnesium, potassium and vitamin C. It’s unclear exactly what healing properties it possesses, but Nigerians hold it in such high esteem that they have used it to treat an impressive array of health issues, including scabies and high blood pressure. A team of researchers once found that waterleaf “may probably enhance the cognitive ability in Swiss albino mice.”

As part of my research for this assignment, I spoke with several mothers who shared that they harvest their waterleaf early in the morning, between 5 and 6 a.m., when the dew is still on the leaves. They believe the dew helps the plant retain maximum vitamins and natural moisture. Additionally, while cleaning the leaves, they often say a brief prayer to invoke blessings, believing that this ritual infuses the food with positive energy that promotes healing and overall well-being.

The soup — which also contains several meats and spices — is often served to both the young and the elderly, as well as individuals recovering from illness. Belinda Odeneye, a 60-year-old Nigerian environmental scientist with a passion for growing herbs and vegetables, has another reason she likes to prepare it: “Efo gbure was my mom’s personal favorite.” She collects waterleaf from her home garden, but notes that it’s readily available to harvest in the wild because seeds blow around and the plants often grow on their own.

The recipe: Efo gbure

Efo gbure, or waterleaf soup, originally comes from Yorubaland in southwestern Nigeria. Waterleaf, also known as Ceylon spinach or Surinam purslane, is a leafy green high in dietary fiber and rich in calcium, magnesium, iron and vitamin C. Waterleaf can be found (frozen) in West African grocery stores or online. If waterleaf isn’t available, spinach would be a fine substitute.

Goat can be found in the freezer section of West African, South Asian or Caribbean markets. You can also order it for delivery online. If goat is not available, you can use chunks of boneless lamb shoulder.

Active time: 1 hour
Total time: 2-2 ½ hours
Yield: 6-8 servings

Ingredients
¾ pound bony goat pieces (goat leg, shoulder or ribs)
1 ½ pounds chicken quarters
1 medium yellow onion
⅓ pound crayfish (or ⅓ pound shell-on shrimp)
2 Scotch bonnet peppers (or habanero)
2 tablespoons canola oil
3 cups water
1 chicken bouillon or seasoning cube
1 pound frozen waterleaf (or 1 pound fresh spinach)
¼ pound smoked trout
3 tablespoons red palm oil
salt to taste

Put the goat pieces in a medium pot and cover with water. Bring to a boil on medium high. Once the pot boils, add a generous pinch of salt to the water. Reduce the heat to low and cook until the meat is very tender and almost falling off the bone, around 1 ½-2 hours. Be sure to skim any foam or scum that appears on the surface of the broth as it cooks.

After the goat has been cooking for about an hour, cut the chicken quarters in half at the joint, separating the thigh from the drumstick. Line a small sheet pan with paper towels. Lay the chicken out on the paper towels and salt generously on both sides. Let sit for 15 minutes. This allows for the seasoning to penetrate the meat and tenderize it.

While the chicken is tenderizing, chop the onion. Rinse the crayfish (or shrimp) with cold water and drain. Thinly slice the Scotch bonnet peppers (or habaneros). Set them all aside.

Pat the chicken pieces dry with a paper towel.

Heat the canola oil in a large pot on medium high. Then add the chopped onion, 3 cups of water and the bouillon cube, and stir. bWhen the oil starts to shimmer, add the chicken to the pot, skin side down. Cook the chicken on medium high until the skin is golden brown. Then, add the chopped onion, 3 cups of water and the bouillon cube and stir. Partially cover the pot with a lid and reduce the heat to medium. Simmer the chicken until the meat is fork-tender, 20-30 minutes. Add a generous pinch of salt.

While the chicken is simmering, finely chop the spinach, if using. Flake the smoked trout with a fork.

Once the goat is thoroughly cooked and almost falling off the bone, strain the meat from the broth and set aside. Reserve the broth for another use.

Once the chicken is tender, add the cooked goat, crayfish (or shrimp), smoked trout and Scotch bonnets (or habaneros) to the pot. If you are using frozen waterleaf, add it here. Stir and simmer uncovered until the crayfish shells have turned completely red (or the shrimp shells have turned completely pink).

Add the fresh spinach (if using) and the palm oil. Stir and simmer for 5 more minutes. Taste the soup to check the seasoning. Add salt if needed.

Ladle into bowls and serve.

Madagascar

A soup that’s considered an aphrodisiac — thanks to a zebu organ

By Aina Zo Raberanto

Just about every part of the zebu, a common species of cattle in Madagascar, is used as an ingredient in local cuisine. It’s especially popular in soup. You’ll find zebu foot soup, which is called lasopy tongotr’omby. Zebu bones and joints are simmered in lasopy silamangany. And the key ingredient in lasopy soucril is zebu penis.

This last version is considered an aphrodisiac. And even though no studies have been done, doctors here sometimes recommend it in cases of infertility or impotence. Some believe it can replace Viagra. That’s because of Asian influences on the island nation of Madagascar, and the idea in Chinese medicine that to have a healthy organ, you need to eat its animal equivalent. In Taiwan and China, diners may also find penis meat on menus.

Zebu penis soup is eaten mainly by men, very early in the morning, to get the day off to a good start. It is a cheap dish found in small street restaurants called gargotes.

The chef photographed here, Toky Razafimaharo, owner of the Phoenix Lounge in Antananarivo, Madagascar, is a fervent advocate of local products, especially meat and spices. At the butcher shop, he has the choice of different lengths of zebu penis, or soucril. For this soup, he chooses a medium size — it’s cheaper and easier to cook than a larger one.

The preparation process starts with a thorough washing of the organ. Then he cuts the soucril into small pieces (and removes the foreskin, which is inedible). He soaks the pieces in cold water for 30 minutes, then boils them for another 30 minutes. This water must be discarded to remove the smell of urine. Then the pieces go back into a pot to boil with vegetables for several hours. The dish is served piping hot, often with a lot of pepper and chiles for extra flavor.

The recipe: Lasopy soucril

In Madagascar, an island nation off Africa’s southeastern coast, the zebu is a venerated and deeply valued animal at the center of Malagasy life. A member of the bovine family, zebus are draft animals, a means of transportation and a source of food. They symbolize status and wealth. Traditionally, this soup is made with zebu penis, soucril in Malagasy. Lasopy soucril, or zebu penis soup, is said to have healing and aphrodisiac properties. In place of soucril, this recipe uses oxtail, another bovine body part believed to be a powerful aphrodisiac.

Active time: 40 minutes
Total time: 4 hours
Yield: 6-8 servings

Ingredients
2 pounds of oxtail
salt to taste
½ pound pumpkin (or kabocha or butternut squash)

2 medium red potatoes

1 large carrot
¼ pound green beans
2 tablespoons chives
1 jalapeño

Put the oxtails in a large stockpot and cover them with water. Cook on medium high until the water boils, then discard the water.

Fill the pot again until the oxtails are covered with 3 inches of fresh water. Cook on medium high until the water boils again. Then reduce the heat to low and cook with the lid of the pot open a crack until the oxtails are fork-tender and falling off the bone. This should take around 3-3 ½ hours.

Check on the oxtails every 30 minutes and skim off any foam, scum or rendered fat that rises to the surface. Each time you check the oxtails, taste the broth and season with salt, as needed.

While the oxtails are cooking, cut the pumpkin (or kabocha or butternut squash) into large 2-inch chunks. Cut the potatoes into a large dice. Set aside.

Cut the carrot in half lengthwise, then cut the halves into half-inch half-moons. Trim the ends and stems off the green beans and cut them in half. Set aside.

Mince the chives. Trim the stem off the jalapeño and slice into thin rounds. Set aside.

When a fork easily slides into the oxtail meat, but it’s not yet falling off the bone, add the potatoes and kabocha to the pot. Increase the heat to medium and simmer for 15 minutes.

Add the carrots and green beans. Simmer for 7 more minutes.

Check the seasoning of the broth a final time and adjust as needed.

Ladle the oxtail and vegetables into bowls with plenty of broth. Garnish each bowl with fresh chives and jalapeño slices.

Vicky Hallett is a freelance writer who regularly contributes to NPR.

Genevieve Villamora is a writer, restaurateur and recipe developer based in Washington, D.C. Her work has appeared in Bon Appetit magazine and The Atlantic’s CityLab and she has developed a recipe and done a demo at the Smithsonian’s Food History Weekend. A veteran of the D.C. restaurant scene, she owned and operated the James Beard Award-winning Bad Saint for seven years. She serves as the chair of the Book Subcommittee for the James Beard Foundation’s Media Awards. She is married to NPR visuals editor Ben de la Cruz.