It’s all leek to me

by Ari LeVaux

Vichyssoise (pronounced vee-she-shwahs) is a French soup of pureed leeks and potatoes, traditionally served chilled during harvest season. And while savvy farmers from Texas to Alaska continue to find new ways to harvest ever-earlier spuds, a spring vichyssoise season has until now been tabled by the fact that even hotshot growers can’t rush leeks.

One could, of course, buy spring leeks imported from south of the equator, but who wants jetlag in their chilled soup? The essence of vichyssoise demands to be savored in a manner better suited to slow boats than jet planes.

The fire-hardened celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain gives credit, in his book Kitchen Confidential, to a bowl of vichyssoise enjoyed onboard an ocean liner when he was 9 years old for the inspiration that launched his culinary career.

And while Northern Hemisphere leeks are months away from harvest, there is a local, leek-like substitute available right now that makes a fantastic vichyssoise.

Garleek, also known as young garlic, is a spitting image, as well as a close relative of the leek. And while garlic can’t be rushed any more than leeks can – garlic plants typically take 10 months to mature – it’s usually planted in the fall, coming to fruition in mid-summer. My garlic, planted last October, is already a foot tall.

Come June, when garlic hits “plant puberty,” as it were, the similarities between garlic and leeks will diminish, as the base of the garlic plant morphs and swells into a large, unleek-like bulb. At that point the developing cloves will present other culinary opportunities, as will the budding flowers.

If you’re lucky enough to have garlic in the ground, see if your patch needs thinning. Sometimes double plants come up, and you might want to pull one so the other can grow larger. If your patch doesn’t need thinning, you can go ahead and pull some anyway, sacrificing the garlic bulbs of tomorrow for some garleek vichyssoise today.

Or you can go to the farmers market this weekend and convince a farmer to harvest some immature garlic and sell it to you next week.

And if you’re in less of a hurry, you could plant a few of those sprouting cloves hiding in your kitchen.

How do I know that you have sprouting cloves in your kitchen? Well, around this time of year, wherever it is, garlic will sprout. Perhaps you’ve noticed a green stem in the middle of a recently sliced clove, or maybe a long forgotten head at the bottom of your hanging kitchen basket has thrown sprouts toward the window. If you put those sprouted cloves in the ground, they will grow into garleek plants this summer. They won’t make bulbs, but you can still cook with them, garleek-style.

You can also eat those sprouted cloves, by the way – it’s still garlic. Some cooks throw them away, assuming it’s passed its prime. I’ve even been told the sprouts give you gas, and should be removed with a paring knife.

I think those green sprouts give garlic an interesting, beautiful look. Both sprout and clove still taste like garlic to me, so I’m not sure what the problem is. And heck, what doesn’t give you gas these days?

Thanks to a bumper harvest last summer, I’ve got a big stash of sprouting garlic, and to get through it all I’ve been cooking nearly every meal with a bulb (that’s right, bulb) or two. It doesn’t really matter what I’m cooking. In fact, sometimes I start with a handful of sprouting cloves in the frying pan, slowly cooking in oil on low, while I decide what I’m doing and get my miseenplace (that’s French kitchen-speak for “ducks in a row.”)

No matter what the dish turns into – scrambled eggs, fried rice, fish tacos, pizza, whatever – those whole cloves, cooked slowly in the pan, turn into sweet treasures that can hang in most any dish. Old garlic is more mellow in flavor compared to the fiery, neon-white cloves of fresh, summertime garlic – which also, of course, have their place in the kitchen.

And then there are the garlic flowers, which, along with their edible stalks, are available in June after the onset of garlic puberty. The flowers and flowering stalks can be steamed like asparagus, grilled like steak, chopped and stir-fried with bacon and oyster sauce, etc. Look for garlic flowers at the farmers market in mid-June.

And if you have access to garleek, then you can make spring vichyssoise, as follows:

Using only the white, tender, lower portion of the plant, as you would with a leek, mince a cup of garleek. Sauté with 2 tablespoons of melted butter, one chopped yellow medium onion, and a garlic head’s worth of whole, sprouted cloves, peeled, on medium heat.

While that’s going, get your miseenplace by preparing 3 cups of thinly sliced yellow potatoes, while heating 2 cups of chicken (or veggie) stock.

When the garleek, onions and sprouted garlic are translucent and tender – not browned! – add the potatoes and stock. Simmer, covered, for 30 minutes or until everything is falling-apart tender.

In this rustic and half-finished form, pre-vichyssoise is great eating, so I suggest you make a double recipe. Eat some for dinner, in this chunky incarnation, and let the other half cool to room temperature. After dinner, puree the leftovers and then whisk in two cups heavy cream (use less cream and make up the balance with more stock, if you prefer). Season with salt, pepper and a pinch of nutmeg, and chill. Serve cold, garnished with chives or parsley – preferably on the back patio, or a slow boat. •