Home Style French Soups

Posted on October 18, 2021 by Ann Lovejoy
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Pureed potato leek (and kale) soup with fresh herb garnish

Garden-Based Cool Season Soups

Recent oral surgery has me disgruntledly following a complicated and fussy regimen that disallows such delights as anything chewable and even restricts hot tea (!!!) for the first week or so. As I sullenly sip tepid soup (no texture allowed) and eat yet another serving of plain yogurt (to counter the sweeping effects of antibiotics), I’m entertaining (torturing) myself my re-reading favorite cookbooks. A few comments and questions about last week’s post on simple food led me back to Richard Olney’s classic cookbook, Simple French Food. Though he never experienced the public fame of James Beard or Julia Childs, Olney was highly regarded amongst professional chefs and food writers in the 60s and 70s. He’s credited with being among the influential few who re-shaped American cookery by popularizing French cuisine in a day when prepared and packaged food was becoming increasingly available and popular.

A decent writer, he’s wry, opinionated and sometimes amusing, and anyone who enjoys reading books about life in small Provencal villages will definitely appreciate the glimpses of his chosen home town of Sollies-Toucas, a beautiful (of course) place in the Cote d’Azur region. Olney lived there from the early 1950s until his death in 1999, and spent his time painting (not very well), cooking (very well), and writing about food (very well indeed) as well as his unmemorable memoirs. Like most of his contemporaries, Olney’s cookbook features a lot of meat, but he has time for vegetables as well, especially appreciating the “meaty” qualities of beans(!). He offers recipes for a number of vegetable purees, among which I most enjoyed the brothy ones. French water-based soups always have the clean, fresh taste of vegetables, rather than heavier, often greasy soups made with chicken or meat stock. I always prefer lighter, vegetable-based soups with self-broths that highlight the garden-fresh flavors.

Perfectly Simple Potato Leek Soup

A few years back, I wrote about an extremely simple version of French potato leek soup found in Olney’s cookbook. Where most potato leek soup recipes rely heavily on butter and cream or milk, Olney reports that such a recipe would very much surprise French cooks whose home style versions rarely include dairy ingredients. He does finish his version of this classic with a bit of butter in each bowl, but chopped herbs make an equally delicious garnish and also keep the soup vegan for those who prefer it. The recipe I posted, offered here again with a little update, is too simple for many people, who can’t resist gussying it up with a bit of this or that. It definitely does gussy up nicely, and almost anything from smoked salmon to kale and fresh herbs will complement it. However, there’s a reason that the plain version below is served nightly in many working class French homes and it’s not simply economy. Made with excellent ingredients, this soup is both satisfyingly delicious and even mildly addictive. Gussy if you must, but do t least try a bowlful, enjoying a mellowing glass of wine while it cooks. Bon appetite!

Home Style French Soup

I make this soup with avocado oil, which lends this soup a rich, buttery flavor, but a fruity olive oil works is more traditional. The version seen above included kale, and was pureed because my current condition requires it, but pureeing is a good way to make any soup seem creamier even without added dairy ingredients.

French Potato Leek Soup

1+ teaspoon sea salt
3 fat leeks, thinly sliced (white and pale green parts only)
3-4 medium potatoes, quartered and sliced
1-2 tablespoons avocado oil or olive oil or butter
few grinds pepper
2 tablespoons minced fresh herbs (optional)

Combine 2 quarts of water with the salt and bring to a brisk boil. Add leeks and potatoes, reduce heat and simmer until potatoes are quite tender but still mostly intact (30-40 minutes). Add a splash of oil or some butter, adjust seasoning (salt, really) and serve, with a bit of freshly ground pepper and fresh herbs for garnish. Serves 4.

A Different French Onion Soup

Here’s another autumnal recipe that’s lovely in this simple vegan form and can be gussied very pleasantly as well. If you don’t want to use the apple and green onion garnish, try grated Gruyere or Pecorino cheese instead (it will taste more like the usual French onion soups). This lighter version always reminds me of a magical time when Italian fellow students and I helped with the vendange at an ancient farmstead near Aix-en-Provence. The grapes were rose or purple or pale green, silvery with bloom, and we dumped our full buckets into big woven baskets slung over the sides of a velvety grey donkey wearing a floppy hat trimmed with flowers.

French Kale And Onion Soup

1/4 cup fruity olive oil
3 large onions, thinly sliced
1+ teaspoon sea salt
3-4 cloves garlic, chopped
2 teaspoons stemmed thyme
6 cups chopped kale
1/2 cup dry white OR red wine
6 cups boiling water
4 slices of crusty bread, toasted
1/2 cup finely chopped crisp apple
2 green onions, finely sliced

Put oil in a soup pan over medium low heat, add onions and salt and cook until soft and golden (20-30 minutes). Increase heat and cook, stirring often, until onions are lightly caramelized (10-15 minutes). Add garlic, thyme and kale, cover pan and cook until kale is dark green and soft (5-8 minutes), stirring occasionally. Add wine, increase heat to medium high and cook until wine is reduced by half. Add boiling water, reduce heat to low and simmer for 20-30 minutes. Break up a slice of toast in each of four bowls, fill with soup, garnish with cheese (if using) and serve. Serves 4.

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Gardening Together, Happily

Posted on October 11, 2021 by Ann Lovejoy
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Never too old to garden; our beloved Carol inspires us all

The Goodness Of Gardening

I’ve been very grumpy lately for a raft of reasons, not least because I’ve been living with a minor but uncomfortable and annoying health condition. The worst of such situations is that it’s very hard to forget about them and at this point in my life, this one constantly reminds me that my body is aging. Of course there’s also a wonderful side to aging; the sense of becoming an elder, a loving grandmother, perhaps even the matriarch of an extended family. It’s pleasant to realize that you’ve actually accumulated a little wisdom along with all that sometimes costly life experience. Age brings more perspective and blunts the fierce edge of fear and anxiety over the small stuff. I’m not at the place where I think it’s all small stuff (it isn’t), but my life is certainly more peaceful than it has been for quite a while, annoying condition or no.

There are really two reasons for this; I am once again observing a media fast, greatly restricting daily news exposure, and I’m gardening at least 15 minutes a day, every day, rain or shine. If it’s cold and rainy and I feel like staying indoors just this once, I make the decision to at least walk around the garden. Small as the garden is, that brief visit offers a full body experience; there is the feeling of wind or breeze, scents of moist earth and late blooming flowers, sounds of busy birds seeking snacks, sights of squirrels storing up food for winter (and planting dozens of peanuts in every bed). I see falling leaves in gorgeous sunset tints and sheaves of coral River Lilies (formerly Schizostylis, now Hesperantha) against masses of dusky purple kale. Soon I’m pulling a random weed or two, snipping a few flowers for a vase, picking Italian dandelion greens and ruddy radicchio for dinner. Almost without realizing it, I enter the garden as a gardener, a participant, not an observer.

Gardening With Others

No wonder we gardeners get addicted! A recent study reported that people who engage in nature-based activities outside experience improved moods, less anxiety, and more positive emotions. Being scientists, they measured all sorts of factors and decided that the most positive results are experienced by people who spend between 20 and 90 minutes a week for a period of 8 to 12 weeks. For most participants, gardening was the activity of choice, and it turns out that gardening is especially rewarding in terms of emotional and mental health when we do it together. Spending time working on conservation activities and walking in natural settings is also beneficial, so hopefully the current trend for forest bathing will remain popular, as will eco-activism of all kinds.

I’m not surprised that gardening with others has proven to be especially healthy. Lead author of the study, Dr Peter Coventry, said: “While doing these activities on your own is effective, among the studies we reviewed it seems that doing them in groups led to greater gains in mental health.” Last week, several of us were cutting down tall thalictrum stalks and digging out overgrown clumps of Euphorbia Dixter Flame. Now and then, another Friday Tidy volunteer would appear and we’d break to decide where a row of roses should be moved, or discuss the fact that that week contains both a birthday and the anniversary of the death of a beloved husband. We nearly always talk as we work, sometimes ranting about climate change or politics, or celebrating some lovely family event, or call out an especially good book. A long-timer volunteer stopped in the middle of a somewhat painful story to tell a newcomer, “This is part of it for us; we work hard and we talk about things that matter to us.” The newcomer said, “This is why I’m coming back. I think it will get me through the winter.”

I think she’s right.

Leek and Corn and Kale Chowder

The last of summer’s corn, a small hill of potatoes, and a few fat leeks combine in this hearty autumn soup that’s also rich with leafy greens. My family loves chowders made in the New England way, with thin if milky broth that amplifies the flavors of each vegetable. No thickener is used, but some people like to mash some of the potatoes to make a thicker soup (and that’s traditional too). We call it green corn chowder not because the corn is unrip (or fermented into moonshine), but because the shredded greens make the broth deep green. This is another very simple recipe that depends heavily on using the freshest local ingredients.

Green Corn Chowder

1 tablespoon avocado or vegetable oil
3 large leeks, thinly sliced (white and pale green parts only)
1/2 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
6 medium potatoes, cut in 1-inch pieces
4 cups shredded kale
2 cups shredded arugula
kernels of corn from 2-3 ear
s
2-4 cups whole milk
1-2 tablespoons butter
salt and pepper to taste

In a soup pot, combine oil, leeks and 1/2 tsp salt over medium high heat and cook, stirring occasionally, until slightly soft. Add potatoes, kale, arugula, and corn, cover pan, reduce heat to medium low and sweat vegetables until they soften a bit (8-10 minutes). Add water to cover by an inch or so, bring to a simmer and cook, covered, until potatoes are just fork tender (15-20 minutes). Add milk and season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve with a bit of butter in each bowl. Serves 4.

 

Posted in Care & Feeding, Garden Prep, Health & Wellbeing, Nutrition, Recipes, Sustainable Gardening, Sustainable Living, Teaching Gardening | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

The Feast Of Saint Francis

Posted on October 4, 2021 by Ann Lovejoy
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Who can resist a fluffy kitty like Sophie?

Celebrating Animal Love

On this celebration day for the sweetest spirited saint in the roster, I’m reflecting on how much my family loves our cat companions and the enormous cultural changes the pandemic brought in its wake in such a short time. For many people, the enforced isolation brought new appreciation of the bond that can form between humans and our beloved animals. Animal adoptions rose steeply during the times of shut down pauses and millions of people learned how deeply soul satisfying it can be to share your life with a critter. Pretty much everyone cradling a purring kitten or getting a friendly face wash from a wriggling puppy for the first time falls in love instantly, just as holding a newborn human infant creates an immediate bond.

Although the world has become increasingly urban, animal love is deep in the human psyche. While historians tend to focus on ancient human/animal relationships in terms of hunting and animal domestication, cave paintings made thousands of years ago reveal an intense admiration, even love, for animal beauty that transcends mere appreciation of usefulness. As a student in Italy, I often visited Assisi, home of Saint Francis and Saint Clare. I loved hearing stories about Saint Francis that illustrated his love for birds and beasts as well as humans. Indeed, many of Francis’s reported conversations were with or about all sorts of birds, bees, pigs, lambs and sheep, donkeys and dogs, even wolves, and his aim was not just to try to control them, but to appreciate them for what they are.

The Simplest Love

Animals as pets are supposedly a recent development in human history, but those stunning Lascaux cave horses were clearly drawn with the eye of love. I imagine that animals of many species have befriended people since time out of mind, probably even before dogs started hanging around human camps and cats began picking off rodents near human grain stores. Archaeological evidence shows that humans and dogs have lived together for at least 15,000 years, so small wonder that during the pandemic, millions of people adopted a dog or cat and found love. Even without a pandemic to keep us anxious and shocked, animal love is therapeutic. I’ve lived with cats, dogs, birds and bunnies, gerbils and guinea pigs all my life, and always found them as enriching to daily life as my human interactions (truthfully, often more so). As a very young child, I carried a pocketful of baby white rats around, doting on their adorableness (a concept not widely shared, I learned). To this day, nearly everyone in my family lives with cats and/or dogs, and most of us have had only brief periods of living without animal friends.

These days, my daughter and I share our home with two older cats, our dear companions, though not especially fond of each other. Right now, Lexi and her skittish cat, Eowyn, are curled up companionably, comforting each other even in slumber. For those who find human relationships difficult, animal friendships offer a simpler path to love. If people are capable of unconditional love, I’m pretty sure animals are as well. Our pets trust us to provide for them and they in turn offer love and even protection from perceived danger (maybe not so true of goldfish or gerbils, but definitely true for dogs, cats, horses, and even birds).

Eowyn, warrior princess or plump pillow

Vegetable Love

Since the pandemic began, many of us stopped sharing meals with family and friends. That not only changed the nature of holidays for us, but also the nature of daily living; without those frequent interactions, isolation replaced conviviality. Now, deep into our second pandemic year, many of us have made adjustments and have restored, at least somewhat, our friend and family ties. We learned to develop “pods”, limiting casual social interactions and investing more in meaningful relationships. The joyful relief when vaccination made it possible to enlarge that initially tiny pod to include neighbors and friends I had sorely missed seeing. Standing across a street and bellowing at each other through our muffling masks really didn’t deliver the same satisfaction as talking or knitting together around a table. Given our counties increasing rise in covid19 cases, most of us are still wearing masks, but by now we’ve all found comfortable ones that

Though some folks spend many pandemic hours in finesse cookery, I quickly lost any interest in what came to feel like fuss rather than fun. Others’ social media food posting felt like boasting. My daughter prefers to eat alone, and without others to share meals, I focused even more on making food that’s simply delicious. I always find it amusing when people tell me that my recipes for quickly made, tasty food seem too simple to be any good. While it’s true that very simple recipes are only as good as the ingredients, home grown vegetables, fruit, and herbs tend to be far better tasting than anything store-bought. I once wrote about a French version of potato leek soup that ordinary French families eat almost daily in soup season. Made with plump, pungent, local leeks and newly harvested golden potatoes, this extremely simple soup is both satisfying and surprisingly delicious. Made with elderly leeks and potatoes that may have been stored under less than ideal conditions, then shipped half way around the world, it’s no doubt pretty meh, but rather than adding cream and lobster or whatever (as several people told me they did to “improve” this recipe), try making it with fresh local ingredients and see what you think.

Working Class French Soup

Simple as it is, this recipe is a classic because it makes a filling meal and tastes wonderful. Many potato leek soup recipes rely on butter, milk, and cream, but this home style version ranks high among my personal comfort foods, tasty, easy to make, and cooks without fuss while you enjoy a glass of wine. Don’t be tempted to use commercial broth instead of water; the heavy, greasy off-flavors will overpower the earthy richness of the natural flavors of well grown, local organic vegetables. This soup is served almost daily in French working class homes and I understand why. I use avocado oil to give this dish a rich, buttery flavor that’s especially satisfying, but a fruity olive oil works fine as well. If you have a food processor, use the slicer disk to make this soup in minutes. It reheats beautifully and the rich flavor gets even deeper after a night in the fridge.

Home-Style French Potato Leek Soup

1+ teaspoon kosher or sea salt
3 fat leeks, thinly sliced (white and pale green parts only)
3-4 medium potatoes, quartered and thinly sliced
1+ tablespoon avocado oil or olive oil or butter
few grinds pepper

Combine 2 quarts of water with the salt and bring to a brisk boil. Add leeks and potatoes and cook until potatoes are quite tender but still mostly intact (30-40 minutes). Add oil or butter, taste for salt, and serve, with a bit of freshly ground pepper. Serves four.

 

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Easy To Please, Deer Resistant Bulbs

Posted on September 27, 2021 by Ann Lovejoy
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Deer are darling but they do love tulips

On Beyond Tulips

Autumn brings a rush of enticing bulb catalogs, their glossy pages full of glowing tulips and ruffled daffodils. Here in Deer Central, I don’t bother much with big border tulips any more, since they are apparently addictive for deer. Let deer once discover tulips in your garden and they’ll return year after year, seeking those tender tidbits. Instead, I grow all sorts of daffodils, from tiny species to huge border beauties. Actually, I’ve stopped buying the biggest kinds of daffs, those frilly doubles that bend over and plunge their faces in the mud at the first rain. That still leaves me with hundreds to choose from, though finding space is a bit of a problem. That’s because, unlike fancy tulips, most daffodils are quite persistent, reappearing faithfully for many years. When we moved to Bainbridge in 1985, clumps of Poet’s Narcissus daffodils reportedly planted in 1908 were still flowering each spring. Similarly, yellow trumpet King Alfred daffodils planted over a century ago by Mary Sam, a Native American midwife, still bloom every year, some now at the Historic Museum and some at the library.

Daffodils are tougher than tulips, being pest, disease, and drought resistant when given suitable conditions. That’s not to say no tulips are persistent, many singles, notably the old fashioned Darwins, can last for decades, and some species tulips live indefinitely. Both daffodils and tulips, like most bulbs, thrive in clay based soils as long as they get to dry out in summer. That means planting them away from any irrigated areas, since dry summer “baking” is vital to their wellbeing. So is excellent drainage; where soils remain moist in summer, bulbs may rot unless planted in berms or mounded beds on pads of sandy loam. For longer lives, all bulbs must be allowed to ripen their foliage fully, as the browning leaves redirect stored nutrients back into the bulbs. Since the fading foliage isn’t attractive, it’s a good idea to intersperse bulbs with drought resistant perennials that don’t need much or any summer watering. Leatherleaf (Bergenia) and lady’s mantle (Alchemilla mollis) are good companions, as are ferns and hostas.

Planting Bulbs Without Breaking Your Back

Most years, planting bulbs is eased by returning rains that soften summer baked soil. Even in dry years, autumn is bulb planting time, but before you start excavating, here’s some good news: Bulbs planted less deeply last longer. That flies in the face of advice found almost everywhere, from bulb packaging to articles found online to articles and books by respected horticulture writers. Why? Several bulb trials demonstrate that shallower planting can indeed promote better returns of spring blooming bulbs.One recent Cornell study focused on getting tulips, notably fickle bulbs, to stick around longer in garden settings. Here’s what the final report says, “Deep planting of tulips, as recommended by most packages and websites, is detrimental to longer term perennialization potential. If consumers want the best chance to perennialize tulips, or simply want to plant them with less effort, shallower planting should generally be advised.”

Yay! The study determined that, although it’s widely recommended that tulips be planted at least 8 inches deep, there are better, more effective, and best of all easier ways to plant with better results. This is good, because very few people actually enjoy excavating heavy clay soils a full 8 inches deep. If you’re looking at planting bulbs by the dozen or the hundred, it’s seriously hard work! It turns out that the reasoning behind the deep planting recommendations are flawed; deeper soils were thought to maintain even soil temperatures better, yet bulbs in native, often harsh, environments experience a wide range of temperature fluctuations that do not impair their lifespan.

Try Modified Mulching

Back in the 1990s, large scale planting trials in North Carolina involved a “modified mulching system” for a variety of spring blooming bulbs. Beds were loosened 4-8 inches deep, then bulbs were placed on the loosened soil and covered with 5-8 inches of lime-amended mulch to balance acidic soils. Several multi-year trials were run in coordination with Dutch bulb exporters, aiming to create bulb planting techniques that would encourage bulbs to return for at least 3-5 years. The end result was that deeper soil loosening didn’t make a positive difference and deeper mulches didn’t either. The bottom line was that shallowly planted bulbs (2-4 inches) topped with 2-3 inches of mulch are most likely to return to bloom well for multiple years.

What’s a modified mulch? Any loose, airy material, such as fine wood chips mixed with compost will do, but one of the best is available for free. As autumn leaves tumble, take advantage of nature’s bounty and heap leaves over your newly planted bulbs. If you live near Bigleaf maples, run the lawn mower over the leaves or put them through a shredder first, as the more cut surface available, the faster soil bacteria can break them down into natural compost. In any case, the leaves will rot down over the winter, improving the soil and feeding your bulbs as they put out roots and shoots. If the leaves are dry, cover them with bird netting secured with tent stakes or rocks to keep them from blowing away.

Minor Bulbs For Major Delight

My grandkids are enchanted with the many minor bulbs we’ve planted, from winter blooming crocus to tiny daffodils just a few inches tall and baby-sized tulips which the deer don’t seem to notice. These diminutive bloomers are perfect for the rock garden or wide, shallow containers placed where you can admire the delicate little blossoms up close. It’s fun to fill a series of pots with bulbs that will provide a succession of flowers from late winter into early summer. Start with snow crocus, which really do pop up through snow if need be. This group of small but early blooming species often beat their big Dutch hybrid cousins into flower by as much as six or eight weeks. Most are multi-flowering as well, boasting six or eight blossoms from each bulb. In my garden, both “golden bunch”, Crocus ancyrensis, and golden Crocus chrysanthus bloom in January and February, appearing in increasingly fat clusters nestled between bumps of moss and running thymes.

C. chrysanthus has many colorful forms, like the chalky, sweet-scented ‘Blue Bird’ and ‘Violet Queen’, Easter egg purple with a slate grey eye and red-gold stamens. ‘Advance’ is a lively combination of bronze and thundercloud purples when closed on grey days, but when the thin winter sun coaxes it open, pure lemon yellow spills from its deep cups. The fragrant, butter yellow petals of ‘Cream Beauty’ are faintly feathered with bronze on their backs, while ‘Gypsy Girl’ is sunny yellow with bolder, brassy stripes that partner well with bronze Carex comans and rosy sedums. Dapper little ‘Lady Killer’, clean white heavily barred and brushed with midnight purple, combines strikingly with black labrador violets and tufts of black mondo grass or white winter heathers and hellebores.

A Squirrel Defeating Crocus

Perhaps the most prolific multiplier is Crocus tommasinianus, which will quickly colonize border or lawn if allowed to ripen seed as well as foliage. Tommies, as they are affectionately known, run from lavenders to purple-blues in nature, making them good company for blue and purple flowered lungworts (Pulmonaria species) and the mauve and misty purple Lenten roses (Helleborus orientalis). Tommies also come in named varieties, among them the grape jelly colored ‘Whitewell Purple’ and ‘Ruby Giant’, a vinaceous red. Tucked between pink primroses and rosy hardy cyclamen, any or all will give you and your garden a lovely late winter lift. Best of all, squirrels don’t eat Tommies, so they spread unmolested!

 

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