By A week of small things. Small things are underrated. The world celebrates the dramatic — the milestones, the crises, the moments that make stories. But life is mostly small things: a Tuesday evening, a pot of soup, a phone call with your sister that covers nothing new and everything important. I am learning, at nearly sixty, to notice the small things with the same attention I give the large ones, because the small things are where the living happens.
Marvin and I cleaned out the garage on Saturday. This is not a romantic activity. This is a married activity, which is different. We found boxes from David's college years — textbooks, a fraternity t-shirt, a photo of David at twenty that made me feel like time had played a trick on me. How is this young man forty-two? How is his mother nearly sixty? The mathematics of aging are dishonest. They promise linear progression and deliver something closer to ambush.
I made potato soup. Simple, unambitious, the soup equivalent of a Tuesday: nothing to prove, everything to give. Potatoes, leeks, butter, cream, salt. Sylvia made this soup when the budget was tight, which was often, because Irving's salary pressed coats into pennies. She turned potatoes into luxury through the alchemy of technique — dicing everything fine, simmering everything slow, adding cream at the last minute like a secret. I make it when I need comfort but don't want to admit I need comfort, which is a distinction that fools no one, least of all Marvin, who sees me make potato soup and says nothing but sits down and eats two bowls and understands.
Rebecca called to tell me about a student of hers who is writing a dissertation on food in immigrant literature. She wants to interview me for the project. I said, "I am not immigrant literature. I am a high school English teacher with a blog." Rebecca said, "You are exactly immigrant literature, Mama. You just don't know it." She may be right. I am the daughter of immigrants who cooked the food of a destroyed world in a Bronx apartment, and I have spent my life preserving that food and writing about what it means. If that is not immigrant literature, what is?
The soup is gone. The garage is clean. The week is over. Small things, all of them. The most important things often are.
This is the soup I made that week—the same soup Sylvia made in the Bronx when pennies were tight and love had to travel through a pot rather than a wallet. If you are going to make it, make it slowly: fine dice, long simmer, cream added at the very end like a secret you’ve been keeping. It will not photograph dramatically. It does not need to. Sit down with someone who understands you, and eat two bowls.
Sylvia’s Potato Leek Soup
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 3 large leeks (white and light green parts only), halved lengthwise and finely sliced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and finely diced (about 1/2-inch pieces)
- 5 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon white pepper
- 1 bay leaf
- 3/4 cup heavy cream
- Fresh chives or flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for serving
Instructions
- Sweat the leeks. Melt the butter in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-low heat. Add the sliced leeks and a pinch of salt. Cook gently, stirring occasionally, for 12–15 minutes until the leeks are fully softened and sweet but not browned. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more.
- Add the potatoes and broth. Add the finely diced potatoes, broth, salt, white pepper, and bay leaf. Raise heat to bring to a gentle boil, then reduce to a low simmer.
- Simmer slowly. Cook uncovered for 25–30 minutes, until the potatoes are completely tender and beginning to break down at the edges. Do not rush this step — the long simmer is what gives the soup its body and depth.
- Partially blend. Remove and discard the bay leaf. Use an immersion blender to blend about half the soup directly in the pot, leaving the rest chunky for texture. Alternatively, transfer half the soup to a blender, purée, and return it to the pot. Stir to combine.
- Add the cream. Reduce heat to low. Pour in the heavy cream and stir gently. Let the soup warm through for 3–5 minutes without boiling. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
- Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh chives or parsley. Serve with good bread. Expect second helpings.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 295 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 480mg