Polish Potato Soup (Kartoflanka)

My strongest belief in the universe — besides the sacredness of butter and the fact that pumpkin pie should never have surprises — is that Polish Potato Soup (Kartoflanka) is the emotional support food you didn’t know you needed until three bites in. Seriously, this bowl makes me want to write a love letter to starch. Also: I will judge your potato peel technique just a little.

The Great Thanksgiving Soup Debacle (or How I Learned Humility)

Once I tried to impress my in-laws with a “fancy” soup — which turns out to be code for “I watched one chef on Instagram and panicked.” I over-salted everything and then attempted a heroic rescue with water. It tasted like sad ocean. My aunt, bless her, smiled and said, “You tried.” I cried. (Quietly, in the pantry. With crackers.)

Then there was the time I swapped potatoes for sweet potatoes because I thought I was being clever. Let’s not relive the orange soup incident of 2019. Lesson learned: sometimes the simplest starch is the truest comfort. Also, Trader Joe’s has the perfect russets and they will not judge your peel shame.

Back to the Soup Before I Spiral into More Regrets

ANYWAY, before I emotionally relive the lemon bars disaster of 2021 (you don’t need that trauma tonight), let’s talk kartoflanka — humble, creamy, forgiving. It’s the kind of soup that comforts like a cousin who remembers your birthday and also brings chips.

Ingredients — the little army that makes the soup sing

• 4 large potatoes, peeled and diced
• 1 onion, chopped
• 2 carrots, diced
• 2 celery stalks, diced
• 4 cups vegetable broth
• 1 cup heavy cream
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Fresh parsley for garnish

Mini-rant: yes, you can absolutely use cheaper store-brand broth (Aldi is clutch for this), but if you want the soup to sing opera, splurge on a good vegetarian broth once in a while. Trader Joe’s vegetable broth is my compromise of choice. Also — spoil alert — caramelized onions are not mandatory but they will make you weep with joy.

And because I must: if you’re tempted to add bacon, remember the ingredient restrictions. Save the sizzle for another dish.

Cooking Unit Converter — your metric friend in the kitchen

Quick conversions so you don’t have to guess whether your cups are crying imperial tears.

Technique — chaotic guidance and the steps I learned from burning one pot too many

I am not a military chef. I am a chaotic general with feelings and a wooden spoon. Here’s how this usually unfolds in my kitchen: I start by forgiving the onion for making me cry (I also blink dramatically), then I sauté until things smell like childhood. Texture matters: I like my kartoflanka a little rustic — some potato chunks, some velvety soup. Use an immersion blender if you want smooth; if you want personality, mash with a potato masher.

Here’s the actual backbone so your kitchen doesn’t stage a coup:

1. In a large pot, sauté the onions, carrots, and celery until softened.
2. Add the diced potatoes and vegetable broth, and bring to a boil.
3. Reduce heat and let simmer until the potatoes are tender.
4. Use an immersion blender to puree the soup to your desired consistency.
5. Stir in the heavy cream and season with salt and pepper.
6. Garnish with fresh parsley before serving.

What I learned the hard way: don’t rush the simmer. Patience equals flavor. Also, over-blending makes it gloopy; under-blending makes it lumpy — find the middle, like life.

Why this soup feels like home to me (and maybe to you)

Food is a time machine. My grandmother — who lived three states away but somehow always smelled like dill pickles and warm socks — made soups that felt like blankets. Cooking kartoflanka brings me back to kitchen counters sticky with jam and tiny hands (mine) stealing carrot bits. It’s tradition, identity, nostalgia, and the occasional culinary therapy session. I make this when I miss people, when I’m celebrating, when my apartment heater dies and I need something that physically warms my chest.

Also, if you’re wondering whether this counts as “comfort food” on Thanksgiving, yes. I will bring it and you will not stop me.

That time I tried to make it fancier involved roasted potatoes and regret; learn from my experiments.

Tiny anecdote: the parsley coup

I once skipped the parsley because I thought garnish was optional. My partner used the last sprig, waved it like a flag, and pronounced the soup “official.” Never skip the parsley. It’s like applause for your bowl.

Ask Me Anything — the chaotic FAQ you didn’t know you needed

Okay, I’ll stop talking now (for at least five minutes). This soup? Make it when you need comfort, when you want to impress in a low-key way, or when your soul requires starch. Promise me you’ll taste as you go, forgive your mistakes, and have extra parsley on standby.

If you’re stalking more potato ideas, this torte is my other emotional affair — crispy edges and full disclosure: I swoon.

Daily Calorie Needs Calculator — because curiosity killed the biscuit

Estimate your daily calories if you want to portion your soup like a responsible adult.