Is there a perfect Summer Soup?

Soup is a popular restaurant item; it is a popular food group in many contexts. There are a lot of thoughts about what constitutes an appropriate summer soup.  Some think that slurping on hot soup on a hot day makes one feel cooler.  Although the jury may be out on that theory, others like the alternative of chilled soups.  Hot days were made for chilled soups.  Some are classics:  Gazpacho from Spain; Borscht from the Soviet Bloc or Vichyssoise from New York City.  “New York City?” you scream, because “Vichyssoise” is often thought French, but it's an American creation, invented by Chef Louis Diat at the Ritz-Carlton in New York City in 1917.  In France, years earlier, it often was called “Potage Parmentier,” potentially after an 18th century French doctor who first imported potatoes to France, which had initially been thought poisonous.

But I digress.  What is perfect soup for the season?  Some might argue that produce coming into farmers markets, at the height of local production, warrants the title.  As tomatoes start to ripen, it’s hard to argue against Ratatouille with local tomatoes, zucchini and peppers.  As peaches are now in full bloom, a chilled soup with stone fruit and ginger hits appropriate notes.  And at one’s peril, one should never slight Summer corn chowder as the Silver Queen kernels wing their way slightly west from the Eastern Shore. 

But I’d like to make a pitch for potato leek soup.  There are new potatoes in the market, recently dug which adds a bit of earthiness.  Cream is a given and who can argue with that, but more importantly, the soup celebrates all things allium.  Potatoes and cream coat the tongue; leeks perfume the broth.  The soup can be hot; it can be room temperature or chilled when it becomes Vichyssoise.  It can be chunky with potatoes; it can be smooth as French silk.  The flavor of leeks is a mysterious effervescence.  Not as biting as onions, mouth numbing as garlic, not green as scallions and fresher than shallots.  Leeks are the Cinderella of the allium family.  Anthony Bourdain purportedly claimed tasting Vichyssoise on the Queen Mary as a fourth grader inspired a lifetime love of fine cuisine.  Join the club. 

Chilled Potato Leek Soup with chopped chives

½ stick butter (4 oz.)

8 leeks, white part only, sliced

1 onion, preferably sweet (optional; see below)

2 pounds new potatoes, peeled, cubed

1-quart chicken stock

1-pint (16 oz) cream

Grating of fresh nutmeg.

 

Garnish:  Fine chopped chives (classic). Or scallions, minced

 

Steps

1. Melt butter (or ½ butter, ½ olive oil) in large stockpot.  Over low heat, sweat leeks.  A pinch of salt helps this process.  Do not allow to color.  A debate exists among as to whether onion should accompany the leeks, potentially due to the expense.  This is a matter of taste, but using all leeks is a guilty indulgence.   
2. A word about cleaning leeks.  They will have sand between the layers.  This has not been bred out of them like beards on mussels.  To clean leeks:  cut off the middle where they turn from white to chartreuse.  Laying the leek on a cutting board with the roots still attached.  Starting about one-half inch from the root, cut through the layers, all the way to the green.  root.  Rinse in cold faucet water prying the grit out between the layers with your incredibly clean hands.  Thin slice leeks before adding to butter
3. Add potatoes; stir a bit and allow to slowly sauté a few minutes
4. Add chicken stock.  Note:  Julia Child recommended veg stock, not to distract from the leeks.  Bring to a gentle boil; simmer until leeks and potatoes are very soft, about 30 minutes
5. Now it is blender time:  your choices:  a handheld bir mixer or batches in the standing blender.  If the latter, don’t fill blender bowl more than half full.  This is hot scalding starchy liquid glue.  Really hot.  It will hurt if it splashes on you.  After blending, transfer back to soup pan.
6. Whisk in cream.  Given free will, some recipes play with crème fraiche, sour cream and/or milk.  Stick with the classic.  Add grating of nutmeg; try to use freshly grated nutmeg. This is a spice notably different in its whole incarnation from the tin of the ground version at the back of your spice drawer.  Fresh is peppery, effervescent and (yes) a bit nutty.  Taste and adjust salt and pepper
7. Reheat to a gently boil.  Taste again and check consistency, adding more stock, milk or half and half to adjust to personal preference
8. Time to chill.  (Both you and the soup; pour a glass of Sauvignon Blanc; you’ve earned it).  Transfer still hot soup to metal bain-marie or bowl.  Float in an ice bath until room temperature.  Wrap, date and refrigerate.
9. This soup is NOTICEABLY better after an overnight rest in the refrigerator.
10. Service:  Check seasoning a last time; adjust salt and pepper.  Serve with finely chopped chives—or minced scallions.  Other proffered garnishes include fresh corn, croutons, bacon, cold asparagus, fried shallots and slivered sweet peppers. None of these variations are necessary.  This is a hit, warm or cold.