A 7.2 Easter afternoon earthquake in Northern Mexico rocked the San Diego house I was in for more than a minute. The table started rocking midway through dinner, light fixtures swayed, wine glasses sloshed. The California natives quickly herded the out-of-town guests and their excited children into doorways to ride out the long, rolling waves. I watched through the front window as the ground visibly lurched up and down. A sparrow swung back and forth on a low-hanging telephone wire.
Family in Baja California received urgent phone calls, family in Los Angeles gave the all clear. Easter dinner was disrupted, but no damage was sustained, no one was hurt. Spiral ham tastes good cold. The kids (okay, the grownups too) jumped on Facebook to report the news. That night a heavy rain fell and cold winds barreled through palm trees and the crevices around my 1920s windows. I gave the furnace one last hurrah for the season and snuggled under my down comforter, a bit shaken.
When I awoke the next morning, feeling like I hadn’t slept, I craved something easy, warm, comforting. This was going to have to be simple and require what was on hand. As usual, after a weekend away from home, supplies were limited and random. Two bent carrots, withering kale, a one-inch wedge of red pepper. Luckily, the dinner party the week prior left us with delicious odds and ends, like leeks and the end of a slab of bacon. Add a potato or two to the mix, half an onion, some frozen chicken stock and that red pepper for color, and I was on my way to a cozy lunch of potato and leek soup with roasted vegetables.
It was time to clean out the vegetable bin. Ends of cauliflower, fennel, kale, onion and those carrots were tossed separately with olive oil and salt and roasted for 40 minutes at 350, turning once. I sprinkled roughly ground cumin over the cauliflower. I had never served roasted vegetables with soup, but I will now. As a duo they were delicious, had interestingly different textures, and were impressively filling. The meal also had a luxuriousness of flavor that suggested hours in the kitchen.
The first leeks I tasted were a revelation. My mom made them in a casserole with Boursin cheese, and I have been hooked on both ever since. Mildly pungent and herbal, like silky scallions. Luckily, they are available nearly year-round and keep well in the fridge. I was initially intimidated by leeks because they seemed French and unapproachable. But I soon learned that they are easy to use and difficult to screw up. Cut off the woody green ends where they become white stems, slice lengthwise and fan them out under running water, cleaning between each layer of skin. Chop roughly into crescents.
Chop and combine in a heated soup pot:
3 medium leeks
1/2 large onion
1/3 – 1/2 red bell pepper
an end of slab bacon equivalent to 2 thick slices
salt and pepper
Sauté over medium heat until the bacon is cooked and the onions are golden. Deglaze the pan with 1/3 cup white wine and scrape any brown bits off the bottom. Add:
2 medium or 1 1/2 large potatoes chopped
2-3 stalks fresh thyme
rind of Parmesan cheese (If you have one. I keep them in a bag in the freezer.)
chicken stock and/or water to cover
more salt and pepper
Simmer until the potatoes are soft, take out the parmesan rind and thyme stalks, then puree the soup in a blender. I left about a ladle-full of potatoes whole to give the soup more texture. Return to the pot and add:
1/3 – 1/2 cup milk and
2 tablespoons butter
Garnish with parsley and serve, or better yet, wait a few hours to let the flavors marry. This impromptu soup was velvety and rich. The scant red pepper gave the it a seductive pink color. Next time I will double this recipe to yield more than three bowls.





A. I love the way you write, B. I’m glad you’ve started a blog so we can all enjoy it, C. I love your cauliflower, and D. I love you. The end. xoxo
X,Y,Z, I love you, too!