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Asparagus Leek Soup — When the World Is Frightening and the Soup Is Not

The virus has a name — COVID-19 — and the school sent an email this week about hand washing and social distancing and the possibility, the possibility, of closure. I read the email in the faculty lounge and looked at my colleagues and saw, on every face, the same calculation: how bad will this get? Nobody knows. That is the specific anxiety of this moment — the not knowing, the waiting, the sense that the world is about to change in a way that we can't yet see but can feel, the way you feel a storm coming before the sky darkens.

I am teaching "Lord of the Flies" to my freshmen, which is a novel about what happens when the structures of civilization collapse, and the timing is either ironic or prophetic, and I am not sure which. The students are distracted — not by Golding but by their phones, where the news is unfolding in a way that makes the fictional collapse on Golding's island seem quaint by comparison. I teach anyway. I teach because teaching is what I do, and because the day I stop teaching because the world is frightening is the day I have failed at the one thing I know how to do well, which is to stand in front of young people and say: here is a book. Here is a mirror. Look at it. Think about it. Don't look away.

David called on Sunday. He's a physician. His voice was different — the calm was more deliberate, the clinical distance more maintained, and I know my son well enough to hear the fear underneath the professional composure. He said I should be careful with Marvin. He said older people with cognitive decline are vulnerable. He said things I already knew but which landed differently coming from my son who is also a doctor, because when your son is a doctor and he's worried, you worry. I told him I would be careful. I went to the kitchen and made matzo ball soup — fluffy, the balls light and airy and exactly right — because the world is frightening and the soup is not, and someone has to maintain the things that are not frightening, and that someone is me.

I needed something that felt like order — something with steps I could follow, a beginning and an end, a result I could trust. Matzo ball soup is my usual answer, but that afternoon what I had was asparagus and leeks, and the truth is that any soup made slowly and with intention does the same work: it says that warmth is still possible, that care is still possible, that the kitchen is still a place where I am in charge. This asparagus leek soup is what I make when I need to believe that. I made it for Marvin, and I made it for myself, and it was exactly right.

Asparagus Leek Soup

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 2 large leeks (white and light green parts only), sliced and rinsed
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 1/2 pounds fresh asparagus, tough ends trimmed, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 4 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
  • 1 medium Yukon Gold potato, peeled and diced
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 teaspoon white pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
  • 1/2 cup half-and-half or heavy cream
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  • Fresh chives or parsley, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Soften the aromatics. Melt butter in a large pot over medium heat. Add the sliced leeks and cook, stirring occasionally, for 8—10 minutes until softened and just beginning to turn golden. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more.
  2. Build the soup base. Add the diced potato, broth, salt, white pepper, and thyme. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes, or until the potato is nearly tender.
  3. Add the asparagus. Stir in the asparagus pieces and continue simmering for 8—10 minutes, until asparagus is very tender and bright green fades slightly.
  4. Blend until smooth. Use an immersion blender to puree the soup directly in the pot until smooth, or carefully transfer in batches to a blender. Return to the pot over low heat.
  5. Finish and season. Stir in the half-and-half and lemon juice. Taste and adjust salt as needed. Heat gently — do not boil — for 2—3 minutes.
  6. Serve. Ladle into bowls and garnish with fresh chives or parsley. Serve warm with crusty bread or crackers.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 148 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 310mg

Ruth Feldman
About the cook who shared this
Ruth Feldman
Week 207 of Ruth’s 30-year story · Oceanside, New York
Ruth is a sixty-nine-year-old retired English teacher from Long Island, a Jewish grandmother of four, and the keeper of her family's Ashkenazi recipes — brisket, matzo ball soup, challah, and a noodle kugel that has caused actual arguments at family gatherings. She lost her husband Marvin to early-onset Alzheimer's and now cooks his favorite meals for the grandchildren, because the food remembers even when the people cannot.

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