Garlic Soup

I LOVE going to the Farmers' Market, but you probably have figured that out by now. My partner Guy talks about how singing makes him "whole." I think that the Market does the same thing for me. Stepping out of the train, seeing the umbrellas, and then the produce, and most of all, the people, fills me with an undefinable "lift" that reminds me of a concept I learned when studying Japanese: "mono no aware." The phrase is absolutely untranslatable, but was once described as "the feeling you get watching a far off thunderstorm, when you don't know why , but you feel yourself moved to tears."

Exactly, and don't ask me to explain it. I can't.

But to the more mundane matter of the market itself, today I walked past one of my favorite stands, "Berried Treasure," "manned" by Franca, her mother Jan, and Ahmed, who are all wonderful people. I didn't see anything I wanted. On the way back, Jan saw me and waved to say hello, and when I got over there... baby garlic.

Walking the farmers' market during the year, you learn that every particular vegetable or fruit changes during the year. Spring broccoli is different from fall broccoli. Early escarole is different from late escarole, and so on and so forth. It's really quite dramatic with garlic, as you go from spring garlic ('green garlic' as they love to call it in California), fresh bulb garlic and the scapes, older, storage bulbs, and then, as things start to wind down and it gets cold again, baby garlic.

I COULD use this to make chicken with forty cloves of garlic, but I'm moved to do something else: garlic soup.

Let me say something right up front. Food snob that I am.... I don't make my own stock . There, I said it. That bother you? Don't eat my food, ok? I know two peole who do make their own stock: Dave, whom I've mentioned before, and August, whom you'll hear more about. Dave made some soup this week and brought me some on Monday. With matzoh balls. It was all I could do not to shove each matzoh ball in my mouth and not save any for Guy, and to not drink down that gorgeous golden liquid right then and there. No question about it, homemade stock is better, but I'm not going there. I love the recipes that say "Oh, just keep the chicken bones and other scraps in your freezer until you have enough."

Opening my freezer is always an adventure in personal injury. The question is not: "is something going to fall out on my foot," the question is "what is going to fall out this time." So, no, no stock making for me. But you can ask Dave or August. I suggest you write a check for a truly interesting sum of money to Dave's organization first though, because hey, we're in a barter economy anyway, regardless of what anyone says.

But I digress: surprised? I hope not. Here's the garlic soup recipe. You can make it with your prepared stock of choice, or if you have a Dave or August in your life who loves you enough to share it with you, it will be even better. It's wonderful for keeping away colds, werewolves and just for feeling that warm satisfying feeling in your stomach, that may be the gastronomic equivalent of mono no aware.

You'll need two quarts of stock, and garlic. Lots and lots of garlic. I would suggest at least twenty four peeled cloves. Put the garlic in with the stock and start heating gently. Cover the pot, and after it comes to a simmer, taste it after fifteen minutes. If it's strong enough for you, stop the cooking. If not, keep going, and keep tasting. I usually need about an hour to get it where I want it, but I like a stronger taste. Take out the garlic (you CAN now spread it on toast, if you like. And I do. Or you can put a few in some vinegar and make really good salad dressing)

You can drink it down just like that, but now is where the fun begins. Some people like to dribble in a beaten egg or two. NOT ME. Some put in cooked potatoes, and that is really, truly good. But what I do is this. Stealing ruthlessly from other sources, like Chez Panisse, I let the stock cool. Then, I get about 3/4 cup of polenta, and add it, the way I describe making polenta in "the cuter the animal." You'll get a gruel texture, like the congee or jook that is so popular in Asia. And then, what I do is take some vegetables. Peas in the spring, stronger greens in the summer, and now, this time of year, my favorite, spinach. Off the heat. The stemmed leaves just melt into the soup, and you've got a beautiful burst of green and gold, a pair of colors really absent at this time of year, and an easy, filling little bowl of soup.

Dave, you coming over with some stock?