Leeks Vinaigrette

The dinner I had at Stissing House has stayed with me months later. Upon ordering ‘Leeks Vinaigrette’ there were no expectations for what would appear. The menu description mentioned ‘Ardith Mae,’ which I later found out is a local soft goat cheese. What arrived to the table were tenderly cooked leeks in a parchment purse with dollops of Pommery mustard. I forgot how simplistic and chic a humble leek can be. Faintly oniony, righteously sweet, poised in layers.

One time I made softened leeks with scrambled eggs, I haven’t made it since, but it was a breakfast to remember. The silky curds captured the sweet strands seasoned with just salt to enforce a purity revealing a simple pleasure. I often think “mush” is as refined as the crispy, snappy and textured foods of the world. To make mush is intentional, good mush at least. Holding back slightly right before something turns completely requires timeliness, the enemy to mush.

What I’m offering here are fork-soft leeks braised in a purse with white wine and chicken stock. A bay leaf is lovingly tucked in for appearance and a wisp of flavor. Once the purse is cracked open after an oven roast, the leeks are coated in a mustard vinaigrette with capers and tarragon. A handful of toasted and crushed walnuts lightly dust the assemblage. Fire up some toasts and relish in the feeling of being a French Housewife for like 10-15 minutes.