Springing another leek: Leek soup

You may very well be expecting a repeat of an old recipe: potato leek soup, in which I proved that I cannot write French. Well, that would be "vrai." Here, we are going to go even simpler than that. Sort of.

Fortune smiles on us sometimes, and in odd ways. Recently, I reconnected with my friend Mark. There had been a bit of a rocky road, but all is smooth again. Mark gardens, and this year, one of his triumps is a 60 foot row of leeks.

Yes, you read that right: a 60 foot row of them. How many leeks does that work out too? A LOT. So, when Mark asked me "how many of them do you want?" well, this posed an interesting question: do I act like a pig and say all of them, do I demur and say three or four, or do I hew to a middle path?

Good Buddhist that I am, I took the last option, and asked for ten. Mark showed up on Friday, ten leeks in hand.

Any of you who ever have ten full grown, medium sized leeks in your hands, will find yourself wondering what in the name of Buddha are you going to do with this? They are massive, they are fragrant (some would find them too strong, but Annalena, who has wondered aloud why there isn't a garlic perfume available, found the fragrance heavenly). Chatting started, and out came one of the Bibles of the neglected vegetable: "Alice Waters: Vegetables." This is a book I recommend to all. It is far from complete (no okra recipes, for example), and one could argue that there aren't enough recipes to work from, or that the style of the recipes changes, from the standard format you're all used to, to the format that I use here, or that measures are imprecise.

Well, the whole point of that book, at least to me, is to suggest how to go with things, rather than to "toe the line. ' Sometimes you will not have all of the ingredients that she suggests. Sometimes, as was my case, you will want a thicker or thinner preparation.

Well, we were leafing through the section on leeks, and both Mark and I were taken with the recipe for leek soup. I made it, with modifications, and I suggest you do, too. What you will have, at the end, is a delicous soup that is reminiscent of a delicate french onion soup. It's sort of the frilly little sister of that massive, cheese laden dish that can be good but is so often atrocious. Try this one instead.

Start with six medium to small leeks. Cut back the dark green leaves and then strip the outer layer of the leeks. Yes, there is a fair amount of waste, but this is a good soup. Then, slice the leeks lengthwise, and then into thin strips. Cut them again, until you have a pile of small rectangles of leek. Probably 4-5 cups. Put them aside while you gather the ingredients for a bouquet garni: a small stalk of celery, a bay leaf, a sprig or two of thyme, and one of rosemary. If you lack one and have more of the other, substitute. You may want to take a few peppercorns too, it's up to you.

Wrap all of these in a small piece of cheesecloth, and tie it off (get some cheesecloth. It's a good thing to have, and in this case, keeps the herbs from dirtying the soup, while flavoring it. Speaking of dirtying, you may want to put those leeks in a bowl of cold water while you're getting the rest ready. You may have dirt on them.).

Finally, you will need four tablespoons of olive oil, salt, and a quart of GOOD chicken stock. This is one where I want to insist on homemade, but if you don't have homemade, splurge and get good stuff. The ingredients here are minimal, so every one counts.

Get a big pot. Put in the olive oil, and when it's hot, drain the leeks out of the bowl, with your hands (leaves the dirt behind), and put them into the hot oil. Lower the heat and saute' for no more than five minutes. You'll see the leeks begin to break down, and thicken. Then add the stock, and the garni. Finally, slice two cloves of garlic very thin, and add that to the soup as well.

Lower the heat, and cook it, covered, for twenty minutes. The leeks will be almost melting in the stock, and the stock will have reduced. Add some water if you like, to bring it up to about a quart in total, and taste the seasoning for salt. Take out the garni and dump it.

And, there you are. You have an unusual soup, that I believe that you will love and want to make again. This is much thicker than the original recipe, which called for 2 quarts of stock. I'm treating this as a main dish, so the stock is lessened.

I am not a fan of eggs, but if you wanted to float an egg on a bowl of this soup, hot, I could see it working wonderfully. Somehow, the thought of putting cheese in it bothers me, but not pepper.

Leek soup, without the potatoes. Impress your friends. You can call it "Light onion soup," but why do that? Call it what it is, and have a bowl of a soup that sort of bridges summer and fall