Dandelion Update - "Cream-of", That Is.

Dandelions are bitter.

And water is wet, and cats shed and disdain the toys you bought for them.  I know.  Very painfully obvious stuff.

But tonight - after a bunch of Julia Child encounters, and enormous success with the

Cream of Sorrel soup, it was time to go out on a limb.

So we went for it.

Nope - just no getting around it.
Cream of Dandelion Soup
looks like all the "cream of" soups.
But they taste REALLY nice.

Step 1.  Find a place with dandelions that is not; impregnated with weed killer, too close to a road, a potty stop heaven for the neighborhood dogs.
These places are there, you just might have to think about it.

Step 2. Pick your dandelions.  Here at the height of weed season this takes all of 5 minutes.






Step 3.  Clean them.  This takes a bit longer.  Dandelions are not eaten all that much by insect life, but they hang out there.  And depending on how you picked yours, they may be a bit muddy.  So give them 2 or 3 washes in changes of water - and then spin or pat them dry.

And you can catch your son snitching the flowers to eat.
(If he's weird like mine.)
Or dip them in fritter batter and fry them.

Step 4.  Cut them up well. And get out the hand blender - as these leaves are heartier, and will need major mechanical assistance to break down.  (Unlike the sorrel which simply disintegrated into the soup - more or less.)

Go back and follow the Potage Feuilles de Printemps recipe.  But bring along the champagne vinegar.  And whatever you do, don't forget the salt.  This one needs both.

After you've made this soup... now you are ready for lots more stuff.  Maybe not ANYthing, but the veggies are not going to scare you any more.

Potage Feuilles de Printemps

Cream Soup of Spring Leaves
(Thank You HS French + food-mad vocab)

Sounds Mad, it does.  What a messy, general, non-specific title.

But - as I alternate between long sleeves, sweater, fleece and a wind breaker and then Short Sleeves as a cloud moves, and then back to rain jacket as the rain falls - a hearty, warming, soothing, absolutely delicious soup seems just the thing.  Especially one that is the fruits (or leaves) of spring.

I've stared at Julia Child's Cream of Sorrel Soup for years.  Literally Years!

Yes... this is my mom's, butter stains and all.

And it seems over complicated.  But as I was turning chicken scraps from my freezer into stock (yeah.... I was going all out for this one), I broke it down into language I could see.  And it really turned out to be easy.

And then when I  got to the end... and it was time to make the toasty cheese sandwiches - but the soup needed a bit of fussing about with salt - and I was able to turn it over to the 5th grader...

Yeah it is worth is - and the soup makes total sense on a blustery spring evening.

So how to do this?

Prep - get the stock on the heat - close to a boil.  Clean your leaves - and cut them up in chiffonade or chopped to smithereens.
Measure everything out.  Mix the 1/2 C milk/cream with the 2 egg yolks.

Now it will be easy.


1/3 C onions or green garlic
cook it to soft in
3 Tbs butter

then make a white roux by stirring in the
3Tbs flour (interesting note - just needs to be starch - wheat is NOT essential)
and cooking for about 3 min to toast the starch - or whatever sort.

Stir in the 3-4 C chopped leaves - and maybe a ladleful of hot stock.  Coat with the roux (starch-butter-onion mixture) and keep stirring until the leaves are completely collapsed and maybe falling apart.

Add in the 5 1/2 C stock a bit at a time, so the roux stirs in and is not lumpy.

Stir 2 ladles of the soup into the egg+cream mixture.  Take the soup off the heat - and stir the tempered egg mixture back into the soup.

If it is not rich and creamy enough - stir in a little more butter.
Taste and check for salt.  This would be a bland, boring disappointing soup if not salted correctly.  I had a 5th grader check it for me (see above).

If photographing for FB or Pinterest, or serving for an important dinner with you S/O's boss, decorate with leaves.

Otherwise, eat as you listen to the rain drum on the roof.