Meals from a Bitter Cold Alert

Vancouver Island garden writer Linda Gilkeson regularly emails “Linda’s List” to her many subscribers in the Maritime Northwest. Her most recent subject line, Bitter Cold Alert, definitely caught my attention and sent me to the kitchen garden to follow her advice: “Given how cold it could be, I suggest you harvest as much of the above ground crops (leeks, cabbage, kale, Br. sprouts, chard, etc.) as you can stuff in your refrigerator and cover everything you can’t harvest.”

Heading out into the cold and blustery but sunny late morning, I started with the leeks and quickly filled a wheelbarrow with the last 12-foot row of these special winter alliums, about six dozen leeks. Next I went to the Brussels sprouts and cut off at the base the fullest remaining stalks, six little trees of sprouts. Leaving these two crops to clean later, I turned to the chard, collards and kale, filling bags with the biggest leaves of each and packing them into the refrigerator. Then it was time to cover what remained. I piled extra mulch on the carrot and parsnip beds. I also piled extra mulch around the tall kale plants before moving hoop houses over them and over the chard, securing a small cloche over the mache and closing the cold frame over the mustard and arugula. Finally, I trimmed the leeks and popped the Brussels sprouts from their stalks, filled gallon bags with both, and found more room in the fridge.

Garden covered 2:18

Happily, I was able to start using this emergency harvest right away. At a dinner party that night, I shared a platter of sautéed leeks and Brussels sprouts and at another dinner a few days later, I shared a platter of sautéed leeks, chard and Brussels sprouts. For the first, I sliced the leeks lengthwise and then crosswise into inch-long pieces, then sautéed them in a little butter. I sliced the Brussels sprouts into eighth-inch rounds and sautéed them quickly in butter as well. Finally, I added a little heavy cream to the final sautéing of both the leeks and the Brussels sprouts, not really necessary but very tasty.   The warm green and yellow tones of both vegetables looked lovely against a dark brown stoneware platter.

For the second dinner’s platter of leeks, chard and Brussels sprouts, I sautéed the leeks and Brussels sprouts in butter as before though I left out the cream. Then I braised the dark green chard in a bit of water until it was tender. On a shallow yellow rectangular platter, I arranged the vegetables in sections, leeks then chard then Brussels sprouts forming a winter vegetable harvest flag. I missed the opportunity to get photos of each of these dishes but they were as beautiful as they were delicious.

Still working my way through bags of leeks and kale, a few nights later I made a large dish of Boerenkool to serve at a birthday party we were hosting. This classic Dutch dish combines mashed potatoes, sautéed leeks and wilted kale into a wonderfully satisfying winter mash. With roasted carrots and a pork leg roast, it made a festive dinner.

Boerenkool parts & carrots


The cold has abated, but there are still bags of leeks in the fridge along with bags of collards, Brussels sprouts, arugula, radicchio and parsley.  And the roots and greens covered and left in the garden survived the cold.  We’ll use them all for parties ahead, warm times with friends as we move from winter to spring.

Digging Leeks

Leeks diggingLeek roots don’t extend so deeply into the soil as, say, a single parsnip root, but leeks do have lots of tenacious little roots so harvest requires a digging fork to loosen these hardy winter alliums. And it’s a muddy task, not quite so dirty as parsnip digging but still dirty.  By this stage of winter leeks aren’t things of beauty either, no longer the vigorous, tall spears of late summer but instead a bit bent with outer leaves flopped over, even slimy.  Still, beneath this exterior they are perfectly fine, ready to harvest, trim and take to the kitchen.  Their delicate, sweet fragrance wafts up as soon as they leave the ground and intensifies as trimming creates creamy white shafts topped with fans of green.

Leeks and trimmings

Leeks have a subtle flavor, more delicate than onions or shallots. That’s why I like them. Onions offer strong sweetness, either sautéed until translucent or cooked down longer to a caramelized onion candy.  Raw, finely diced shallots give a hint of onion to vinaigrette; cooked shallots add a complex onion flavor to sauces.  And it’s certainly easier to grab a storage onion or shallot already harvested and tidily stored than it is to dig and clean a leek, but if it’s the perfume of leeks that you want then nothing else will do.

Leek and potato soup is classic as is the combination of leek, kale and potato for Dutch Boerenkool.  Leeks and winter squash in a tart, leeks and greens in a pasta sauce or leeks and flageolet beans in a casserole topped with breadcrumbs are all perfect combinations. And Gruyere in the tart, Parmesan on the pasta, goat cheese with the beans each adds richness to the flavor of leeks.  “Pan-Roasted Pork Loin with Leeks” from Marcella’s Italian Kitchen (1986) makes a hearty winter meal and a leek and goat cheese frittata is simple and delicious.

One of my favorite ways to prepare leeks is sautéed in butter and a little thyme then baked in a simple pastry crust.  The first time I served this galette from Alice Water’s Chez Panisse Vegetables was as a side dish to accompany rack of lamb.  It was a hit and ever since then, it’s been the main dish surrounded by other sides.

Leek galette

Another delicious way to prepare leeks is to slice them lengthwise, brush them lightly with olive oil and roast them at about 400 degrees until soft, usually 15-20 minutes.  Piping hot, at room temperature or marinated in lemon vinaigrette, it’s hard to decide which is best.  They are all so good.

A few weeks ago, Melissa Clark in her New York Times Good Appetite column offered one more variation on roasting leeks:  She halves leeks lengthwise, cuts them into quarter-inch slices, tosses them in olive oil, spreads them on a single layer on a sheet pan and roasts them at 425 for about twenty minutes, turning them frequently so they don’t burn.  When they’re done, golden brown and lightly crisp, they have all sorts of uses.  Clark uses them in a hearty salad of farro, chickpeas and currants but adds that she’s also used them “as a topping for fish, fowl and other vegetables, and as a garnish for soups and braised meats.”  A few nights ago, I surrounded a pile of them with fava beans and roasted Brussels sprouts for a late winter vegetable platter.  Leeks and fava beans are an amazing combination, delicate, sweet leeks and earthy, dense favas.  I could eat them every night.

Leeks, favas, Brussels

Despite all these delicious possibilities for leeks, and the pleasure I get from the process of growing them (, I confess that I was tempted to banish them from my kitchen garden this coming year.  For the past two years, leek rust has found its way to my leek patch, depositing its orange pustules on the green leaves and driving me nearly to despair.  The first year, I cut off all of diseased leaves as they appeared and sprayed a mixture of sulphur powder, a drop of dish soap and water on the remaining leaves.  Last year I replaced this spray with a mixture of neem oil and camomile tea ( and this potion worked better to slow down and even halt the progress of the rust.  As was the case the year before, the leeks kept growing, but they weren’t pretty.

Maybe if I didn’t plant leeks for a year or two I’d break the rust cycle and also protect my soil, but two things have kept me from taking this step for the year ahead.  One was a Google search that turned up a series of websites that treated leek rust as a manageable evil.  Two sites I especially like are the British Garden Organic – The National Charity for Organic Growing ( and the blog by Osborne’s Seeds in Mt. Vernon, WA (  I’m planning to follow the “prevention and control” advice from the British site.

The other encouragement to plant again this year was the mention of a seed variety that showed leek rust resistance: Bandit. I ordered a packet from Johnny’s (  If neither the growing advice nor the seed variety works, I will let leeks go for a few years, but the lovely flavor of leeks is spurring me on to do battle with rust for one more year.  Stay tuned!