Soup like granny used to make

Ian said: “What little I know about baking came from my Scots Grannie from Annan who was a magic baker. She was OK as a cook with an exceptional eye for quality meats whether that be fish, fowl, offal or red flesh but declared war on all forms of vegetable, or at least on the few she let into her “back kitchen”. The few would be onions and cabbage any time of year, neeps in the autumn stretching through winter, while peas and vine tomatoes dominated the summer.

“Leeks were an occasional visitor but they were no problem—they always ended up in soup. The odd leek might find its way into a pan of broth but mostly they were destined for cock-a-leekie: the ultimate Scots comfort chicken soup in my opinion.

“These days cock a leekie is a delicious, quick and easy-to-make soup that can be put together any time of the year. If I think back to the late 1950s and early 1960s then my Scots Grannie spent a whole autumn day making the soup. At that time cock a leekie was no staple but an occasional, seasonal treat. Two things had to come together if we were to have a pot of this delicious soup: a glut of leeks at the end of the growing year and an old hen whose best laying days were in the past.

“When a few gigantic leeks appeared in Grannie’s kitchen, it was the signal for Grandpa to get on his bike and off into the countryside. He eventually returned with a string bag containing a dead chicken. We looked on in awe from our hiding places at Grandpa as first of all he dipped the poor creature in boiling water. Plucking was our signal to rush out and grab feathers every now and then for later play. Armed with old cleaver and curved knife, Grandpa looked really terrifying—even more so when the head came off the poor old chicken. In no time at all the fowl was gutted and in bits, time for Grannie to take over.”

Ian recalls that cleaned leeks, chicken meat on the bone and giblets went into a stockpot of boiling water, left to simmer for hours. Later added were dried prunes that had been left to soak overnight.

“By this time the smell in Grannie’s kitchen was unbelievably chickenish but the soup, according to Grannie at least, still had two or three more hours simmering!” he said. “Finally, she fished out the chicken and put back some of the stringy meat. Her cock-a-leekie was extraordinarily tasty, made all the better by our long wait and a scattering of prunes.”

Sharing his favourite recipe, Ian added: “Traditionally, the key is an intense stock, which was easier to produce with the old backyard birds of the past than the modern supermarket offerings. The trick is to use the best quality chicken you can get.”