Garlic Soup at Midnight

When I was twenty years old I moved to Vienna to study art history. I lived in the 4th district, off Wiedner Hauptstrasse and a short walk from Karlsplatz and the glory of the Ringstrasse. There was a small market across the street from my apartment, a wine shop and bakery down the street, and the house in which Johann Strauss had lived and died stood a stone’s throw away.

I was in heaven. I loved wandering the old streets of the city, the architecture so beautiful and ornate. I spent my afternoons in museums, bought cheap student tickets to the opera, and on weekends I met friends to drink wine at outdoor heurigan (wine taverns). Every week I shopped at the open air Naschmarkt, where my favorite vendor was the pickle man. He sold pickled beets, onions, celery, and cucumbers in huge vats, and always laughed at the American girl with a seemingly insatiable appetite for sauerkraut.

I shared an apartment with a German student, Raphaela, who was from Munich. As students we kept erratic hours—out late drinking or up late studying. Sometimes, as I sat in my room late at night, trying to pound irregular German verbs into my head, an enticing aroma wafted in from the kitchen—the scent of garlic being sautéed in butter. I knew immediately that Raphaela was making her Garlic Soup.

The smell was so intoxicating it lured me out of my room, I couldn’t help it. When Raphaela saw my head poking around the corner of the kitchen doorway she would laugh. “Don’t worry,” she’d say. “I made enough for you too.”

We’d sit at our little apartment table, at midnight, and eat hot, creamy garlic soup. We’d talk and laugh, Raphaela being patient with my wobbly German. The soup was delicious—mellow and buttery, with the sharp green flavor of freshly chopped parsley. It tasted as good as it smelled. We were always sad when we came to the bottom of our bowls—and not just because it meant we had to go back to studying.



AUSTRIAN GARLIC SOUP (knoblauchcremesuppe)
Serves two (for you and your favorite roommate), multiply as desired

This garlic soup is not overpoweringly garlicy, so don't we scared. It's mild and mellow and creamily seductive. Try it, you'll like it.

3 tbs unsalted butter
10 cloves garlic
1/4 cup sifted flour
3/4 cup milk
1 1/2 cup chicken (or vegetable) stock
2 tbs chopped parsley, plus additional for garnish
2 slices crusty bread

Melt the butter in a heavy saucepan, preferably with a rounded bottom (easier for whisking). Keep the butter on a low heat and add the garlic, finely minced or squeezed through a garlic press. Sauté gradually, on low heat, making sure the garlic does not brown.

When the garlic has softened (5-10 minutes), begin whisking in the flour so that it forms a thick paste. Add the milk, in a slow stream, whisking constantly (standard roux technique). When the milk has been fully incorporated, begin whisking in the chicken stock. Allow the soup to bubble and thicken, and add more stock if needed.

Chop the parsley and stir into the soup. Cut the bread into medium cubes and toast in an oven or toaster oven. Garnish with extra parsley and the bread cubes (you could use pre-made croutons, but I prefer toasted bread as it is a bit more chewy).

A word of warning for those, like me, who play lose and fast with recipes and might be tempted to skip the parsley—don’t. Trust me on this one, it’s just not as good without it.

This is basically a soup version of garlic bread—what’s not to like about that?