The first time I bought some at the farmers market, I thought I had been gypped. I thought I'd been sold a couple of baby leeks.
OMG. That stuff is vivid, potent, insistent.
I bought some more this spring.
To tame it, I cut a couple of stalks into fine dice and cooked them, first in olive oil, and then in a pint of added chicken stock (which is very nicely seasoned with herbs). But they were still very, very garlicky.
(What's not to like?)
I cut up a potato into little bits and added them to the garlicky chicken stock, with copious sprinklings of salt and freshly cracked pepper. (I soaked the potato bits in water while I was cooking the garlic into softness, and some of the soaking water ended up in the soup. This is OK.)
Pretty simple so far.
Finishing touch, only because I have them growing in a pot outside: chiffonade of sorrel leaves. It turns brown pretty quickly in the hot broth, and because I am a klutz photographer, you only get to see a little remaining green. But tasty.
Cranky cried, it was so good.
He kept referencing the Spanish restaurant he liked to visit in Cambridge when he was a debonair college freshman.
I think it was even better. It was local.