Days of Grace and Potato Leek Soup

By now, we've all harvested the last of the cold-hardy crops from our gardens and

are actually looking a little bit forward to a respite from the hard play of summer, the hard work of fall cleanup, and the myriad preparations for winter that are necessary.

The weather is cool and the work outside is done.  The days are getting shorter and the nights longer.

Old man winter is waking up, just as we in the north country start our annual 'nesting' routine and are settling in for a couple of months of much deserved and anticipated down time. 

Recently, I've read Cold Antler Farm by Jenna Woginrich. Many, many books will pass through my hands between now and the beginning of the planting season for Gracie's Plant Works (February).  

  I am sharing with you a passage from Jenna's book, which I believe will 

resonate with most of us in the north country.  You don't have to be a farmer or a gardener or a grower to understand the Days of Grace, we all experience these days no matter what our vocation.

Days of Grace

It was gray outside, the wind moving wet leaves around the precisely manicured lawn. 

He looked past the bleak weather on the other side of the windows and said with a 

nostalgic smile that these were the 

Days of Grace. 

I asked him what he meant by that?
He said the Days of Grace was what the farmers in our area called the time of year between 

fall’s fireworks and the first snowfall; a window of reverent preparation. The Days were 

filled with tasks like stacking cordwood and repairing tractors. 

Grain and hay were loaded in barns. The snow blower was oiled and ready to growl. 

Farmers who had sold their corn, composted over their vegetable fields, 

or had meat hanging in the walk-in had most of their work behind them. 

In a life that forces constant vigilance and resourcefulness, this was the time of year to finally relax. 

Weeds were long dead. Cash crops were sold. Wallets were fatter and mornings started a little later.
The Days of Grace were a holiday season, though you won’t find any cards at 

your local Hallmark store sporting greased cultivators whilst wishing you  

A Wicked Muzzloader Season. No, instead of twinkle lights and gift registries; 

the Days were a series of quiet thrills. Work completed, homestead prepared, 

hunkering-down may commence. The region takes on the calm veil of the shoulder season. 

And the initiated sigh. That secret sigh of their people.
This brick and soil holiday Paul spoke about suited me. 

It didn’t require belief in any particular verse, instead it demanded virtues 

I desperately wanted in my adult life: presence, belief, and devotion. 

Farming lit up and fueled a dim and hungry part of me. 

I was part of something again, a necessary tradition of growing food. 

Food is more than sustenance and recipes. It’s the one faith all humans belong too. 

When you wrap your life around the production instead of consumption, worlds open.

Now, just beyond and past the Days of Grace, there's snow on the ground and a thin sheeting of ice on the area lakes.  An insalata caprese doesn't appeal to us, but what does is some polish with kraut 

or a steamy bowl of potato leek soup.

 Kaitlin cabbage is a heavy, dense cabbage perfect for slaw or kraut.

You'll notice that the cabbage is interplanted with alyssum to attract predatory 

insects that kill and eat the cabbage loopers.

Companion planting has severely reduced my looper problems, but with all the rain

this past summer and the cool nights, it has been a slug fest.  

This is a photo for scale...the purple viola gives you an idea of the size of these cabbages.

  I find this as dense as hybrid varieties such as Stonecrop and Stonehead, 

with the advantage of organic seeds.  It rarely, if ever, splits, and a couple of heads will yield all the
kraut we can eat in a year.

 

I make kraut every year using an old recipe from my brother-in-law, Scott's family.  The recipe requires zinc lids and rubber gaskets, as the kraut ferments in the jars instead of in a crock.  

Leeks are another easy to grow vegetable in northern gardens.
Although they look small when you purchase them in 6 packs from Gracie's,
it will take all your strength to harvest them in the fall.  They have
beautiful, full root systems and will last in the refridge for a couple of months after harvest.

Leek and Potato Soup

3 large leeks, cleaned well and sliced

3 large potatoes, peeled and diced

splash of extra virgin olive oil

Sauté leeks and potatoes in oil until leeks are transparent.

Add a 32oz carton of chicken stock and simmer until potatoes are tender.

Remove from heat and blend with an immersion blender until smooth.

Return to heat and add heavy whipping cream to desired consistency.

I usually top the soup off with a drizzle of dill-infused olive oil.

To infuse oil, heat oil in pan then add fresh dill and sauté until crisp, but not burned.

Discard dill and drizzle oil over soup just before serving.

Bon Appétit!

Cozy up to the woodstove with a good book and bowl of potato leek soup this weekend!
Cheers,
Kathy and Patty

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