The leeks were the last fresh thing I pulled up from my garden two weeks ago, and I vowed then to do it earlier next year because my hands were caked with wet black dirt and sluggish from the cold. (The cooling trend didn't reverse: It's 1 degree F. today.)
For lunch today I wanted to use them up, but frankly I'm a little sick of leeks in vinaigrette, and potato-leek gratin, and potato-leek soup.
In a gush of mad creativity, I thought "what about leek-potato soup?" It sounds like a brainstorm you'd hear from a three-year-old, but when pushed to its limits, and with the addition of some of the chive oil I made and froze in September, this soup managed to squeeze one more facet out of plain old potato soup. It tastes profoundly of fresh leek (the chive oil really helps) and more like summer than winter, which is a welcome change.
Just after adding the potatoes to the stockpot, a little northern drama arose. Aaron had said that he was going to go to the little pond to skate and I said, Okay, okay, not thinking much of it, busy editing something and thinking of soup. After an hour passed, I called his cell, which went to message. I started to get scared, envisioning him falling through the newly-frozen ice. (We've only had a week of low temperatures--how thick could it be?) I'll just add the chicken stock, I thought and put the soup on the diffuser on low. Wait, but it would be so much better with garlic. I grabbed a couple and then had a moment of self-scathing doubt: "you're adding garlic to the soup when he could be freezing from hypothermia?"
What happened next tells the story of my obsession better than anything I could ever write.
I whacked one clove out of its skin, found my micrograter in the big drawer in record speed, grated it quickly into the pot, added the stock and threw on my boots and hat and coat and ran out the door. Grabbing a 2 x 8 from where it leaned up against the wood pile (in case I'd have to pull him out from the shore), I jammed the dirty board against the upholstery of my car and took off down the road, turning off onto the trail to the little field which is scarred with frozen ruts. I ran down to the pond, finding him happily circling around our little private skating pond.
He was cold when we got back, though, and appreciated the soup. Slurping it down, he told me that the pond's only 3 feet deep in the center. Good to know.
For lunch today I wanted to use them up, but frankly I'm a little sick of leeks in vinaigrette, and potato-leek gratin, and potato-leek soup.
In a gush of mad creativity, I thought "what about leek-potato soup?" It sounds like a brainstorm you'd hear from a three-year-old, but when pushed to its limits, and with the addition of some of the chive oil I made and froze in September, this soup managed to squeeze one more facet out of plain old potato soup. It tastes profoundly of fresh leek (the chive oil really helps) and more like summer than winter, which is a welcome change.
(dirty garden fingerlings)
Just after adding the potatoes to the stockpot, a little northern drama arose. Aaron had said that he was going to go to the little pond to skate and I said, Okay, okay, not thinking much of it, busy editing something and thinking of soup. After an hour passed, I called his cell, which went to message. I started to get scared, envisioning him falling through the newly-frozen ice. (We've only had a week of low temperatures--how thick could it be?) I'll just add the chicken stock, I thought and put the soup on the diffuser on low. Wait, but it would be so much better with garlic. I grabbed a couple and then had a moment of self-scathing doubt: "you're adding garlic to the soup when he could be freezing from hypothermia?"
What happened next tells the story of my obsession better than anything I could ever write.
I whacked one clove out of its skin, found my micrograter in the big drawer in record speed, grated it quickly into the pot, added the stock and threw on my boots and hat and coat and ran out the door. Grabbing a 2 x 8 from where it leaned up against the wood pile (in case I'd have to pull him out from the shore), I jammed the dirty board against the upholstery of my car and took off down the road, turning off onto the trail to the little field which is scarred with frozen ruts. I ran down to the pond, finding him happily circling around our little private skating pond.
He was cold when we got back, though, and appreciated the soup. Slurping it down, he told me that the pond's only 3 feet deep in the center. Good to know.
Leek-Potato Soup with Chive Oil
4 ounces bacon (4 thick slices), diced
4 Tablespoons butter
1 pound leeks (3 large)
1 pound potatoes, such as fingerling or yukon gold, peeled and diced
1 clove garlic, grated finely or pressed
2 1/2 cups chicken stock
1 cup water
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme, crushed
1 bay leaf
3/4 teaspoon salt
15 turns ground black pepper
2 1/2 cups milk (some half-n-half or cream would make it richer)
1/3 cup chive oil (recipe below)
Trim the bottom and top of the leek, leaving 3 inches at the top from where it begins to split off. Cut them in half and split them lengthwise. Run each half under running water, pulling back the leaves, to remove all dirt. Place face-down on paper towels, and then dice into small squares.
Cook the bacon in a stockpot until lightly crisp and remove. Add the butter, leeks and some salt and pepper. Cook until wilted and bright green.
Add the potato, seasoning with more salt and pepper and cook until beginning to soften. Add the garlic and cook one more minute. Add the chicken stock, water, thyme and bay leaf and simmer for 1 hour, or until the vegetables are tender.
Smash roughly with a potato masher, leaving some coarse chunks of potato. Add the milk and remaining salt and pepper to taste. Keep the heat below a simmer at this point to prevent the milk from curdling. Stir in 1/4 cup of chive oil. Serve immediately, with bacon and the remaining chive oil for garnish.
1 1/4 cups thinly sliced fresh chives
1/2 cup canola oil
1/4 teaspoon salt
(Unless you have a high-speed vita-mix blender, slicing the chives is crucial. Put long lengths in there and you'll be rewarded with a mixture that looks like chewed-up grass. It won't ever puree. I speak, sadly, from experience.)
Put the chives in the blender and add the salt and a drizzle of oil. Blend on high, continuing to drizzle in oil until you have a fine puree. Don't strain. Pour out into a metal bowl set inside a bowl of ice water. Stir continually until cold. Store in the refrigerator, or portion into freezer bags and freeze up to 1 year.
4 Tablespoons butter
1 pound leeks (3 large)
1 pound potatoes, such as fingerling or yukon gold, peeled and diced
1 clove garlic, grated finely or pressed
2 1/2 cups chicken stock
1 cup water
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme, crushed
1 bay leaf
3/4 teaspoon salt
15 turns ground black pepper
2 1/2 cups milk (some half-n-half or cream would make it richer)
1/3 cup chive oil (recipe below)
Trim the bottom and top of the leek, leaving 3 inches at the top from where it begins to split off. Cut them in half and split them lengthwise. Run each half under running water, pulling back the leaves, to remove all dirt. Place face-down on paper towels, and then dice into small squares.
Cook the bacon in a stockpot until lightly crisp and remove. Add the butter, leeks and some salt and pepper. Cook until wilted and bright green.
Add the potato, seasoning with more salt and pepper and cook until beginning to soften. Add the garlic and cook one more minute. Add the chicken stock, water, thyme and bay leaf and simmer for 1 hour, or until the vegetables are tender.
Smash roughly with a potato masher, leaving some coarse chunks of potato. Add the milk and remaining salt and pepper to taste. Keep the heat below a simmer at this point to prevent the milk from curdling. Stir in 1/4 cup of chive oil. Serve immediately, with bacon and the remaining chive oil for garnish.
Chive Oil
1 1/4 cups thinly sliced fresh chives
1/2 cup canola oil
1/4 teaspoon salt
(Unless you have a high-speed vita-mix blender, slicing the chives is crucial. Put long lengths in there and you'll be rewarded with a mixture that looks like chewed-up grass. It won't ever puree. I speak, sadly, from experience.)
Put the chives in the blender and add the salt and a drizzle of oil. Blend on high, continuing to drizzle in oil until you have a fine puree. Don't strain. Pour out into a metal bowl set inside a bowl of ice water. Stir continually until cold. Store in the refrigerator, or portion into freezer bags and freeze up to 1 year.
2 comments:
Ame, this sounds great. Is there a good way to vegetarian-ize it? Beyond the obvious vegetable broth, I mean. Is it fine sans bacon or would you recommend another savory salty substitute?
Chels, the bacon is mere garnish--in this case. I only used three ounces, and that just to make Aaron happy. If I hadn't been cooking lunch for him I would have left it off entirely. No need to substitute. Cooking the vegetables thoroughly in the fat starts your stock--always.
xo,
amy
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