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
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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