There’s something wonderfully unfussy about Jerusalem artichoke soup. It sounds a bit niche, a bit “chef-y,” yet it behaves in the pan like the most comforting of kitchen regulars. You take a pile of knobbly little tubers, the sort that look like they’ve been dug up from the forest floor, and somehow they turn into this silken, pale-gold bowl of calm.
You don’t need much to help them along. Onions, leeks, celery, thyme, a bit of butter, decent stock and cream. That’s it. Nothing showy, just simple ingredients working harmoniously together.
The charm of Jerusalem artichokes
Jerusalem artichokes are not glamorous. They’re bumpy and tend to lurk at the edge of the veg aisle as if they’re not quite sure they belong there. Yet that’s part of their appeal. Once you cook them down, they turn almost sweet, with a nutty, earthy depth that makes Jerusalem artichoke soup taste far more luxurious than the shopping list would suggest.
You don’t even have to peel them religiously. A good scrub, a trim of any particularly knobbly bits, and they’re ready. There is something deeply pleasing about transforming this slightly scruffy vegetable into something that feels restaurant-worthy, then eating it with a buttered hunk of bread.
Building flavour from simple things
The base is where the comfort starts. Onion, leek and celery slowly soften in butter until they slump into sweetness. Nothing rushes here. You want that gentle, soft-edged flavour that only appears when you give vegetables time. A few sprigs of thyme go in next and release their woody, wintry perfume. The kitchen suddenly smells like you’ve been cooking all afternoon, even if you haven’t.
Then the jerusalem artichokes join the party. They sit in the pan for a moment and catch some of the buttery gloss. After that, you drown everything in stock. Vegetable stock works beautifully if you’re keeping things vegetarian. Chicken stock gives a slightly deeper savoury note. Either way, once it is simmering, you can leave it alone. This soup looks after itself while you do other things. That is my favourite kind of cooking.
By the time the artichokes are tender, the soup will smell like a promise: quietly rich, a little sweet, gently herbal.
From rustic pot to silky bowl
This is the point where Jerusalem artichoke soup shows off. Once everything is soft, you blend. The soup turns from chunky potful to something entirely different: smooth, velvety, almost plush. A hand blender does the job. A jug blender gives you that restaurant-smooth finish, if you’re in the mood.
Then comes the cream. You don’t need a lot, though I’ve never regretted an extra splash. It softens the edges and rounds out the flavour. It also gives the soup that pale, elegant colour that looks so pretty in the bowl. A good grind of black pepper at the end is non-negotiable. It cuts through the richness and makes everything taste brighter.
If the soup thickens as it sits – and it will – you can always loosen it with a little more stock or hot water. This is a forgiving pot.
How I love to serve this jerusalem artichoke soup
For lunch, I like Jerusalem artichoke soup in a wide bowl, with a swirl of cream, a few toasted seeds scattered over the top and maybe a drizzle of olive oil.
However, this also makes a gorgeous starter for a winter dinner. Ladle it into smaller bowls or cups with a tiny dollop of crème fraîche. A little crispy pancetta on top makes it feel instantly dinner-party appropriate. It’s make-ahead friendly too, which always feels like a small gift to your future self. The flavour deepens by the next day, so you can simply reheat and serve.
If you loved this Jerusalem artichoke soup recipe, chances are you’ll fall hard for my Mushroom Gnocchi Soup and Leek & Gruyere Pasta Bake too – the same sort of cosy, steaming-bowl comfort, just in slightly different guises.
And of course you can always watch me cook these recipes over on my Tik Tok Channel or my Instagram, I’d love to connect with you there too!
Ingredients
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Base Soup
- To Finish
- Optional Garnish
Instructions
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Soften the base vegetables (10 minutes)
- Set a large saucepan over a medium heat.
- Add the butter and olive oil and let the butter melt.
- Stir in the onion, leek and celery with a pinch of salt.
- Cook gently for about 10 minutes, stirring now and then, until the vegetables are soft and translucent but not browned. Add Jerusalem artichokes and thyme (5 minutes)
- Tip in the chopped Jerusalem artichokes and add the thyme sprigs.
- Stir so everything is coated in the buttery veg.
- Cook for 3–5 minutes, letting the flavours mingle and the artichokes start to soften around the edges. Add stock and simmer (20–25 minutes)
- Pour in the hot stock and stir.
- Bring the soup up to the boil, then reduce to a gentle simmer.
- Cook for 20–25 minutes, or until the Jerusalem artichokes are completely tender when pierced with the tip of a knife. Blend until silky (5–10 minutes)
- Lift out the woody thyme stalks (the leaves will mostly have fallen into the soup).
- Use a stick blender to blitz the soup directly in the pan until completely smooth and velvety.
- Alternatively, blend in batches in a jug blender, then return the soup to the pan. Add cream and season (5 minutes)
- Stir in 150–200ml double cream, depending on how rich you’d like it.
- If the soup seems too thick, loosen with a splash more stock or hot water; if it’s too thin, simmer gently for a few minutes to reduce.
- Taste and season well with salt and plenty of black pepper. Serve and garnish (2–3 minutes)
- Ladle the hot soup into warm bowls.
- Finish with a swirl of cream, a drizzle of olive oil and a scattering of thyme leaves or parsley, if using.
- Serve straight away with crusty bread for dunking.
Notes
Jerusalem artichokes don’t need to be perfectly peeled – a good scrub is usually enough. Any especially knobbly bits can be trimmed. Use vegetable stock to keep the soup vegetarian; chicken stock will give a slightly deeper, savoury flavour. For an ultra-smooth finish, pass the blended soup through a fine sieve or mouli. The soup will thicken slightly as it sits and cools; whisk in a splash of hot water or stock when reheating. It freezes well without the garnish – cool completely, portion into containers and freeze for up to 3 months. A squeeze of lemon at the end can brighten the flavour if your stock is very rich.
