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Created by Chef Thomas
A vivid green soup with the peppery bite of fresh watercress, softened with potato and finished with cream. The kind of bowl that tastes like a cold spring evening and the first real green of the year.
The watercress appears at the market in thick, wet bunches around April, when the chalk streams are still cold and the leaves are dark and small and taste of iron and pepper. That's when this soup makes sense. Not the supermarket watercress in plastic bags, which is polite and mild and good enough for a sandwich. The proper bunches, dripping, with stems like wire and a bite that catches the back of your throat.
This is one of the oldest soups in the British kitchen. Hampshire claims it, and rightly. The chalk streams around Alresford have been growing watercress for centuries, and the soup that comes from it is as plain and good as anything I know. Potato for body. Onion for sweetness. Stock and cream. The watercress does everything else.
The trick, if there is one, is not to cook the watercress. It goes into the hot soup off the heat, wilts in seconds, and gets blended straight away. That's how you keep the colour vivid and the flavour sharp. Boiled watercress turns grey and sulky. Treated gently, it stays the green of something alive.
I wrote it down in the notebook years ago: watercress soup, April, the kitchen smelled like spring water. I've made it every year since, and the note still holds. There are few better feelings than putting a warm bowl of something this green in front of someone on a cold evening.
Quantity
300g
thick stalks trimmed
Quantity
1 medium
finely sliced
Quantity
1 large
peeled and roughly chopped
Quantity
30g
Quantity
750ml
Quantity
100ml
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
a squeeze
Quantity
small handful
to serve
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| fresh watercressthick stalks trimmed | 300g |
| onionfinely sliced | 1 medium |
| potatopeeled and roughly chopped | 1 large |
| unsalted butter | 30g |
| chicken or vegetable stock | 750ml |
| double cream | 100ml |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| white pepper | to taste |
| lemon juice | a squeeze |
| watercress leaves (optional)to serve | small handful |
Melt the butter in a heavy-bottomed pan over a gentle heat. Add the onion and a pinch of salt, stir it through the butter, and let it soften for five or six minutes with the lid on. No colour. You want it translucent and sweet. Add the potato, stir everything together, and cook for another two minutes so the potato gets acquainted with the butter.
Pour in the stock. It should cover the potato comfortably. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook, lid slightly ajar, for fifteen to twenty minutes until the potato falls apart when pressed with the back of a spoon. No resistance. It should give up entirely.
Take the pan off the heat. Push the watercress into the hot soup in two or three handfuls, pressing it down so it wilts into the liquid. It collapses in seconds. This is the important part: the watercress should not cook on direct heat. The residual warmth of the soup is enough to wilt it without killing the colour or the peppery bite. If you boil it, you'll have a grey, bitter soup. Trust the heat that's already there.
Blend immediately, while the green is at its most vivid. A stick blender in the pan works, but a countertop blender gives you a finer, more velvety result if you have one. The soup should be a bright, almost startling green. If it looks dull, you cooked the watercress too long. Pass it through a sieve if you want it silky smooth, though I rarely bother at home.
Return the soup to the pan over a low heat. Stir in the cream and warm it through gently. Do not let it boil or the colour will fade. Season with salt, white pepper, and a small squeeze of lemon, just enough to sharpen the edges. Taste it. The watercress should be the loudest voice, peppery and green and clean, with the cream smoothing out its temper. Ladle into warm bowls. A swirl of cream. A few raw watercress leaves on top. Good bread alongside.
1 serving (about 350g)
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