Cream of broccoli soup and the law of averages

Mmmm, a steaming bowl of fiber.

The other day, I was lamenting my dismal heirloom tomato crop and generally bemoaning the fact that gardening, for all its rewards, can be a big waste of time when things don’t work out.  But me being me, I didn’t think to say a word about all the veggies in my garden that are doing very well. For one, broccoli.

I plant broccoli every year, and every year it’s a big let down. Either the catepillars get to them before I do, or the weather becomes too hot too quickly (broccoli is a cool weather plant), or the broccoli gods simply do not wish to shine on me. But I went ahead and put in 12 broccoli plants anyway, figuring, maybe this year I’ll get lucky.  Sure enough, for the first time in four years, I hit the broccoli jackpot.  My broccoli crop has exploded. Every morning for the past two weeks I’ve been picking  a head a day.

Which means that I’ve been eating a lot of broccoli.  More than I can handle. Last night, I chopped three pounds of it and made an easy cream of broccoli soup, courtesy of The Joy of Cooking.

The directions:  Melt a tablespoon of butter with 1/4 cup chicken stock. Add an onion and cook for 5-10 minutes. Add some white wine, 5 cups of chicken stock, and a bunch of chopped broccoli, including the stalks (which is where the bulk of the nutrients are). Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer for 20 minutes.  Puree in batches in a food processor, and return to the pot. Stir in 1/4 cup whipping cream, and season with white pepper and salt.  Garnish each bowl with freshly chopped dill and scallions.  If you want an extra shot of creaminess, stir in a spoonful of sour cream.

It was fantastically fibrous. And delicious.

That’s the thing about gardening: It’s a numbers game.  Just when you think you know a plant, such as tomatoes and eggplant (another crop that’s sucking bigtime for me this year), you realize you don’t know much about them at all. This is why I recommend planting way more vegetables than you think you need and a large variety because invariably something will not work out, while others will defy expectations.

I call this strategy “maintaining the gardener’s mental equilibrium,” because otherwise a feeble-minded gardener like yours truly would go nutters.