My introduction to Savannah, where I spent four decades of my life, was a preservation internship in the summer of 1980. It was one of the hottest summers on record, and we met the heat with weekends on Tybee trying to catch a sea breeze, gallons of ice, chilled white wine and gin kept in the freezer, and windows that were perpetually frosted—on the outside. The heavy, damp air rang with a steady soundtrack of whirring air conditioner condensers and ceiling fans.
But of all the ways we dealt with the heat, the most memorable was Jean Soderlind's, who was my big-hearted landlady. I lived on the top floor of her grand Victorian house on the corner of Gaston and Habersham Streets. The back service stair connected my apartment with hers on the main floor. Her door off that stair was never locked, and waiting in her fridge, nestled up to those jugs of white wine, was often a gallon pitcher of Vichyssoise for anyone who wanted it. Next to it was a carton of half-and-half for cutting it and everyone in the house had an open invitation to take as much as we wanted—so long as we didn't take the last serving.
God help anyone who did that.
That pitcher wasn't always there and I never took advantage of her open door, but oh, how I wanted to. And all these years later, I still meet the summer heat at least twice during its season with a pitcher of vichyssoise in my refrigerator. As I sip on that cooling, delectable cream, I always think of Jean and her big heart and even bigger laugh.
Crème Vichyssoise Glacée (Small Batch)
Because my household is much smaller than Jean's and I confess I don't have her generous spirit when it comes to sharing this soup, I make this smaller batch when we're not having company. The secret to keeping it without having it sour is to not add the milk until just before serving.
Many modern cooks make it with chicken broth, as did Jean, but originally vichyssoise, like its parent soup potage parmentier, was made with white stock (a mild veal-based stock) or water, and I find the latter lends a lighter, cleaner, and fresher flavor.
My version varies from the classic recipe, which call for only the white parts of the leeks and white potatoes to keep the soup snowy white. I like the added flavor that the tender pale greens of the leeks provide, and choose the potatoes for the way they taste rather than their lack of color. More often than not, yellow fleshed potatoes like Yukon Golds are what I have in the house, and I'm too lazy to go to the store for white potatoes just for appearances sake.
Serves 4-6
2 large or 3 medium leeks
1 medium-small yellow onion, trimmed, split, peeled and thinly sliced
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
4 medium peeled and thinly sliced Yukon Gold potatoes
Water
Kosher or sea salt
Whole milk or half-and-half
Heavy cream, optional
Whole white peppercorns in a mill
Chives or tender inner leek greens, thinly sliced just before using
1. Clean and prep the leeks: lay each one flat on a cutting board, and slice off the root without removing the root base. With the knife blade held parallel to the board, carefully cut the leek in half lengthwise. Holding each half root-end-up under cold running water, bend back the layers and wash away all the sand and dirt between them. Drain it well, cut off and discard the rest of the root base, and thinly slice both the white and pale tender greens. You should have about 1½-to-2 cups.
2. Put the butter in a heavy-bottomed 3-quart saucepan over low heat. Add the onion and leeks and a small pinch of salt. Cover the pan and sweat, stirring from time to time to make sure they don't color at all, until they're wilted and translucent, about 8 minutes. Add the potatoes and enough water to cover them by about ½ inch. Add a generous pinch of salt, raise the heat to medium high, and bring it to a boil. Adjust the heat to a steady simmer and cook until the potatoes are tender and easily pierced, about 10 minutes.
3. Let it cool for a few minutes, then puree the soup in batches with a blender or food processor. It will be quite thick. Transfer it to a bowl and stir until cooled. Taste and adjust the salt. Let it cool completely, then stir again until it's smooth (it'll form a skin), then cover tightly and refrigerate until it's well chilled, at least 4 hours. It can be made 2-3 days ahead.
4. When you are ready to serve, ladle out as much of the soup as you are serving, allowing about 2/3 of a cup per serving. Slowly stir in milk or half-and-half until it's thinned enough to suit you (bearing in mind that it should still be thick and creamy). Taste and adjust the salt, then ladle it into chilled bowls or cups, and garnish with a drizzle of heavy cream (if you like), a sprinkling of chives or leek greens, and a light grinding of white pepper. Serve it with more pepper passed at the table.