So, as I may have mentioned previously, my man makes a mean soup. And he just sort of, like, does it. He'll decide one night that it's a good soup night, and he'll go to the store and buy whatever strikes him as something that might be tasty in a soup. Then he comes home and makes it happen. It can be a somewhat time-consuming (and dish-dirtying) process, but the results are always amazing.
As I've been sick since Monday, and he's not feeling in tip-top shape (most likely fighting off with his superior immune system what has successfully infected me), we decided that Wednesday night was a good soup night indeed. So after picking up my antibiotics at the drugstore like the wonderful man he is, he set off for the grocery to see what might inspire him in the produce section.
When he came home with cauliflower, two types of potatoes, onions, un-chicken broth, tofutti cream cheese, and tofutti slices, I knew we were in for a good night. (In the foreground: bits of cauliflower. In the background: my sickie supplies.) He claimed the soup would contain "a ass of cauliflower, and half a ass of potatoes", and thus should be a pretty filling soup.
What transpires below will not, can not, take the form of a "recipe"; he does not function that way. But I'll do my best to translate it into reproduce-able form. Here goes.
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All things begin with the caramelizing of onions. Jon won't put onions in almost anything without bringing them to "LGB" stage - that is, light golden brown. It's a technical term, he tells me. This was done to two small yellow onions in the big pot, the one that will become the soup pot.
Once the onions reached acceptable form, they were joined by "about three or four handfuls of" quartered new yukon potatoes - the cute yellow baby ones - and enough stock to set them to boil. The mix was cooked until the potatoes were almost at the perfect edible consistency, but ever so slightly too firm. Next to enter the pot was the ass of cauliflower - otherwise known as one head, chopped, minus the big ol' stem that pervades the center. This necessitated the addition of the rest of the quart of stock, plus about a cup of water. At such point the necessary herbs and spices were added: Spike, basil, oregano, parsley, salt, pepper, onion powder, garlic powder - the usual suspects.
When the cauliflower had reached *almost* ideal consistency, the real backbone of the soup was added: the mashings of two Idaho potatoes, who had been lying in wait for the perfect moment to enter the mix. They'd been skinned, boiled, and mashed with a little bit of salt and margarine. Nothing fancy. Just right.
Mash added, it was time for cheese: approximately six of the tofutti slices, and maybe half of the cream cheese joined the potato-and-cauliflower rumble, slowly, as the soup continued to simmer. The end was nigh.
Moments later, he declared the soup finished. Upon tasting I agreed, and summarily dismissed his worries that it was too salty, or not creamy enough, or anything other than awesome freaking awesomeness soup. After letting it "set" a few moments we sat down to a hardy October meal, happy in the knowledge that the leftovers will probably carry us through the week.
We both went back for seconds.