Leeks are hard to come by in Rome, so when I do find some on a shelf or stall, there is even more reason to think: “Lovely leek.” Which is how Simon Hopkinson describes them in his book The Vegetarian Option, and an alliteration so neat and right that it stuck and now flashes up every time I see one. And, because thoughts are like dominoes, lovely leeks could well remind me of the lovely Linda mug I shared a desk with for a week or so, many years ago; and of its owner, too, who was also lovely, with smooth hands (and a pot of hand cream on her desk) and a sister who was an optician in Barnes. It’s funny the things we remember.
Hopkinson also calls leeks the “softly softly” of the onion family, which isn’t just a good description of their flavour and nature, but is also a reminder of how to cook them for soups and sauces. Softly softly, and don’t forget slowly slowly. Which is where Hopkinson meets Anna Del Conte and her method for cooking leeks for pasta or rice. This is also great, because it feels like two favourite cookery writers are having a chat and swapping advice in my kitchen. First, though, clean the leek, trim away the dark welly end and roots, then split it lengthways, but not all the way, so it stays intact and fans out like a peacock’s tail, allowing all the grit can be washed away. This central split also means the leek then cuts easily into half moons.
