Creamy Parsnip and Leek Soup

 I think that of all of us in this blog group right now, I'm the only one living in a place with a climate remotely similar to that of Melissa Clark's New York. Exhibit A: the view out my window. It gets cold here! And so some soup is definitely in order.

Root vegetables are also definitely the way to go at this time of year here: they're about all that's seasonal. Having lived in California and in the South, I know they're somewhat of a novelty item. I remember the first time I cooked a parsnip (roasted with a bunch of other root vegetables with a beef pot roast thing that turned out to be absolutely delicious) in California. It was strange and hard to find.
Parsnips are now a trendy vegetable in France, whereas apparently about five years ago, they were completely unavailable and unheard of. When I buy them at the market, people still ask me how I cook them. Celery root, however, is a normal thing to buy. Stalk celery, which I dislike anyway, is harder to find.

Another great cold-weather ingredient: thyme. Despite the "big cold" of the last week or so (highs in the low 30s), my thyme (which I planted from a bunch I bought at the farmers market) is still hanging on in its little window box. My parsley will probably come back: it always does. This is about the extent of my garden these days.

So, to the recipe: you melt a nice-sized piece of butter in a big pot. I would like to say that this is one of my favorite things to see.

You add about 4 sliced leeks (just the white and pale green parts) that have been very, very carefully washed, and you sauté them down until they're starting to brown.

Then you add a giant pile of white: parsnip, celery root, potato.

You add some aromatics like thyme and bay leaf (and parsley and celery leaf if you've got them and feel like tying a bouquet garni) and some stock (I had some homemade stock left from another soup I'd made) or water, and you let that come to a boil and simmer for a while, until everything is soft and mushy.

In the meantime, you can deal with your bread. Here I have a true German Vollkornbrot that's been hanging around in my freezer since friends brought it back for me. Really delicious, but really hard to slice.

When Melissa said "pumpernickel croutons", I assumed she meant real croutons, the kind you bake with olive oil and garlic, not just toast rubbed with garlic. So even though she wrote the latter, I decided that I would cube my bread, toss it with a clove of garlic cut into about 4 pieces and about a tablespoon of oil, and bake it at 375 for about 10 minutes. It was a nice addition and made a good texture contrast.

OK, it's about 40 minutes later, and all of your vegetables have cooked through. Fish out the bay leaves and thyme (and any other herbs).

Get out your immersion blender and purée the mixture. If you're not like me and prefer actual soup to something like mashed potatoes, you'll probably want to add more water or broth (or even some dairy--I ended up adding some cream I had in the fridge) to make it a bit more liquid.

Serve it up topped with croutons, a drizzle of olive oil, and a sprinkling of red (Aleppo) pepper.

The verdict? Julia and I liked it a lot: it's got a mild, mellow flavor and warms and fills you up: perfect on a winter day. Claire and Sami both ate theirs without complaining (which is saying a lot for Sami) but without any praise, either. Everyone agreed that this was more like purée (French for mashed potatoes) than soup, but for most of us, that's a plus rather than a minus.

Cook this now? Is it cold where you are? Do you have easy access to root vegetables like parsnips? Do you love mashed potatoes? If the answers are yes, then do it!