Cock-a-leekie (chicken and leek soup) with rolled quinoa

The sky has changed.

For three weeks we had a a comical winter, with Derwent Pencil Cornflower Blue horizons and borderline balmy days.

It was ripe for long walks along beaches with visiting friends.

It was perfect for carnival themed 40th festivities of another pal  (BYO best onesie). Nb, for anyone who feels the need to borrow, this family is now in possession of two rather ridiculous full length giraffe costumes. We didn’t interrogate the logic of what micro climate  would allow two giraffes to parent a baby polar bear too hard.

We spent our days outside, planting seedlings in the garden and willing our sketchy sections of grass to grow. Which is good. Because whenever we’re inside, there’s only one thing that the littlest hungry one wants to do- and that’s investigate every cable in the house and pull them out. Then try to eat it.

It’s been a time of nervously awaiting reviews for the book. Thankfully, some are in and they are very kind.

But now the sky has changed. It’s grey and drizzly. There’s a minor tempest brewing inside wee Will. At 11 months he is feeling all the feelings, all at once. His new favourite trick is to throw himself backwards. With such a velocity that on Friday night he launched himself plum out of his high chair. He did not enjoy the stern introduction to the floor boards which followed.  The other novelty is throwing his arms out and waving his hands, like a blind man grasping for a wall. Which is fine, except more often his fingers collide with my eyes.

There’s not that much sleep going on. Again.  (I guess storms will do that). I woke this morning after another broken and skittish night with an angry and swollen and sore eye (thanks Will). And the initial excitement of checking Amazon reviews and rankings has now morphed into a nasty tick. The reviews so far are all kind (to those who’ve posted them so far- you are wonderful). But the rankings? They are fluid and fickle and toy with your brain. One morning  it up be in the 400’s. The next, it’s dwindling 1000 or so below that. It’s messing with my head and not in a productive way.

So what we need, is soup. We need a calming, pliant puddle. We need something in a bowl that will fortify us. And if it can also be blended and serve Will for supper, then all the better. Two birds, one stone- all of that.

I first tasted Cock-a-leekie when we visited the Edinburgh Festival a few years back. I hadn’t seen that many unwashed 22 year old boys handing out fliers, hoping to make someone laugh over a beer since at orientation week at University. We went to the docks. We saw some performative poetry and interpretive dance. We slept in a lumpen bed in an overpriced hotel (if you’re ever planning on going to the festival, be sure to book your accommodation early). But we ate some terrific food.

Cock-a-leekie is a soothing combination of leeks, chicken stock and the curious sweetness of prunes. It’s often thickened with rice or barley, omitting the need for toast on the side. Here I’ve given it a slow carb conversion by incorporating some rolled quinoa. Rolled quinoa looks a little like soap flakes- you can get it in many health food sections of the supermarket. It looks like small and flat discs, which plump up like oats when stewed. In Cut the Carbs there’s a recipe for Chai quinoa porridge. It’s an excellent way to start the day when the cold kitchen tiles nip at your toes. The beauty of it here is that it just melds right into the broth, giving it body and ballast.  Though it can have a slight bitter note, which is one reason why it works so well here.

The other liberty I’ve take is with garnish. I’m a sucker for a garnish for a soup, whether it’s a swirl of dairy, a nut crumble or herbs. In order to make a little more sense of the prunes (which relax into dark threads of plummish sweetness) I’ve opted for shards of crisp bacon. It gives the dish a ‘devils on horseback’, slightly natty, 70’s twist. And let’s be honest- there aren’t that many things which aren’t improved by some cured pig.

You could of course make this with a whole  jointed chicken, but if we’re laying all cards on the table, some days it’s just easier to buy organic thighs and drumsticks from the butcher. That way nobody has to argue over who gets the lion’s share of  the (far superior in my mind) dark meat.

Which leaves you plenty more time to distract yourself by checking when the horizon will clear, if your offspring  have mellowed and crossing fingers that the sales of other baby head skywards once more.

Cock-a-leekie (chicken and leek soup) with rolled quinoa

Serves 4 generously

Shopping/foraging

1 tbsp olive oil
4 chicken thighs, cut into pieces the size of a wine cork
4 chicken drumsticks
1 x brown onion, peeled,halved and cut into slim half moons
2 x leeks, hard green tops discarded, halved, rinsed and cut into slim half moons
2 x carrots, peeled and cut into small dice
8 x prunes, seeded
1/2 cup rolled quinoa (you could substitute with normal quinoa)
3  cups of chicken or vegetable stock
Small bunch of parlsey, roughly chopped
2 rashers of bacon, halved and crisped, to serve.

Salt and pepper to taste

Here’s how we roll

1) Place the olive oil in a heavy bottom pan and brown the drumsticks (this is optional, but will give a better depth of flavour. If you’re pushed for time/ frazzled, just sautee the leeks and carrots briefly and lob everything in the pot).

2) Remove the drumsticks and repeat with the diced chicken thighs.

3) While that is going on, prep your vegetables. Be sure to rinse your leek after you’ve cut it in half- a surprising amount of grit can find its way into the crevices.

4) Remove the chicken from the pan and sautee the vegetables for 5 minutes, stirring often until the onion and leek have softened.

5) Add the chicken and the prunes into the pot.

6) Scatter the rolled quinoa over the top.

7) Pour over the stock and bring to the boil. Reduce to a simmer and clamp on a lid. Simmer for 30-40 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through and the leeks are a relaxed tangle.

8) Crisp your bacon shards, either under the grill or in a pan.

9) Stir the soup well and season with salt and pepper to taste.

9) Portion into bowls and serve with the crisp bacon and a scattering of fresh parsley.

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