Roasted Cauliflower Tortilla Soup

And now for a soup that under-promises and over-delivers:

Just look at all those colors and textures! This is one of those meals that epitomizes the ol' "you eat with your eyes" saying - and the proof is in the pudding soup.

But before we get to that, a brief overview of my journey to this particular recipe.

Our tale begins circa 1993, in Los Banos, California. I'm 10 years old, my best friend is named Kelly, and we cannot get enough of Saved by The Bell. Kelly always gets to "be" Kelly Kapowski, due to the powerful combination of airtight preteen logic ("but it's already my name") and the fact that I'd rather die than deprive a friend of something she wanted, no matter how imaginary. So I'm relegated to the world of Jessie Spano and Lisa Turtle: Always the babesmaid, never the babe.

Cut to: A similar year in Anderson Township, Ohio. A young Adam (boyfriend extraordinaire, who I am to meet a good 25 years later) is learning his first lessons in true love, also at the pastel manicured hands of one Kelly Kapowski. Part of me wants to believe he's over her in the Year of Our Lord 2019, but he does still wear multiple items of SBTB fan clothing sooooooo

I mean can you blame him?

Cut to: A few weeks ago, I'm exploring the Booksellers at Fountain Square, and whaddya know? Ms. Kapowski wrote a cookbook. I buy it as a lure to get Adam to cook with me, not that I need one; he's a willing and capable partner in the kitchen, and not just because he always knows exactly how many dance breaks are needed per recipe (and remembers to put the knife down first). If I'm being overly honest, because this is not the generous spirit I try to maintain, I mainly buy the book as a bit of a joke.

And the denouement: I read through the book, my eyebrows raising higher and higher with each wholly appealing recipe (peas! kale! caramelized banana chocolate chip bread!) and finally realize: the real Kelly Kapowski has been inside me all along.

Hey, boo.

So I decided on a tortilla soup that looked light and lovely, and set to work procuring the ingredients. Already looking great, right?

Fresh and bright, crunchy and creamy, plus mostly red and green AKA the best color combination of all time #christmasforever. Tiffani Thiessen and I were clearly vibing so hard on this recipe, and you can tell I mean it because I used her real name. But then I started cooking, and immediately noticed something weird. This tortilla soup called for some spices (cumin, coriander, chili powder), but by "some" I mean 1.5 teaspoons total. Girl, what? There are two finely chopped jalapenos, too, but I was incredulous that would provide the tongue-tickling I'm looking for in a tortilla soup. In other words, my inner monologue turned immediately to "Exactly what kind of white nonsense is this?"

And if you could please explain this while you're at it.

But hey, I'm dedicated to the conceit of this season of Soupruary, so I was going to give it a go. I was already changing up the recipe to make it vegetarian, and didn't want to go too far afield. As the soup started to come together, though, my faith in Tiffani continued to wane, until my ego had me thinking "Alright, Kapowski, I may never rival your scrunchie collection or straight-up slay in a crop top, but at least I can craft a better soup recipe than you." She lost her real-name privileges real quick, honey.

By the end, I was downright dejected. The soup still tasted boring, and a boring soup stabs me right in the heart with every somniferous bite (I know, my life is so hard). Let this be a lesson: Sometimes it's not about the journey, it's about finishing strong. In the end, this was so much more than it had promised to be thanks to two clutch players swooping in to save the day:

Lime juice and cilantro gave this broth the jolt of life it needed. I'm trying to write something about the usefulness of acid and herbs that doesn't sound like a Timothy Leary quote, but you're just going to have to try it yourself to understand just how much they can alter your soup reality. Add in toppings of freshly toasted corn tortilla strips, paper thin radish and jalapeno slices, avocado and cotija, and even if the Super Bowl had been more watchable you'd still be giving all your attention to this super bowl.

One more thing: I vegged up this originally chicken-based recipe by using vegetable broth and replacing the pulled chicken with cauliflower that I roasted with cumin, chili powder and red pepper flakes. The roasted cauliflower was Adam's idea, actually - a stroke of brilliance he apparently had while sleepwalking, as he has no recollection of it. We should all be so lucky!

It was a roller coaster with Tiffani, yes. But after slurping up every last drop of my soup like it was a milkshake at The Max, I'm looking forward to the next time I Pull up a Chair.

Roasted Cauliflower Tortilla Soup

Adapted from Pull up a Chair by Tiffani Thiessen

Serves 3 or 4

Ingredients

for the cauliflower:
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1/2 head of cauliflower
a generous pinch each of cumin, chili powder and crushed red pepper flakes

for the soup:
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 cup finely sliced green onions (about one standard bunch)
2 fresh jalapenos, seeded and minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
3 cups vegetable broth
2 Roma tomatoes, diced
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
juice of two limes (3 to 4 tablespoons)
1/4 cup chopped cilantro

for the toppings:
avocado, sliced
radishes, thinly sliced
fresh jalapeno, thinly sliced
cilantro leaves
cotija cheese, crumbled
8 corn tortillas
2 tablespoons avocado oil (or olive oil if you'd rather, nbd)
kosher salt

Method

Heat oven to 400 degrees F. Chop cauliflower into bite-sized florets and transfer to a bowl, tossing with 1 tablespoon olive oil and the chili powder, cumin and red pepper flakes, plus some salt and ground black pepper. Plop it onto a rimmed baking sheet, and throw it in the oven for 20-25 minutes, until tender and browning in spots. Remove from oven, leaving oven on for tortilla strips.

While cauliflower roasts, heat 2 tablespoons oil in your soup pot over medium. Add the green onions and jalapenos, stirring occasionally, and cook for about 2 minutes. Add garlic, cumin, coriander and chili powder, and cook while stirring for another minute. Add broth and tomatoes, bring to a boil, cover and turn down to low. When cauliflower is done in the oven, transfer it to the pot.

Meanwhile, prepare your tortillas. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, then slice the stack of corn tortillas into 1/2" strips. Place them in a bowl and toss with the avocado oil along with a big pinch of kosher salt. Transfer to the lined baking sheet, and cook at 400 for about 10 minutes, until crisp and golden.

Just before serving, stir the lime juice and cilantro into the soup. Serve topped with avocado, jalapeno, radish, cilantro, cotija and a big pile of crispy tortilla - and maybe a few more strips in a bowl on the side for extra snacking opportunities. 

Butternut Squash Soup

Butternut? More like you butternot sleep on this creamy bowl of deep, multifaceted comfort!

I really need to start taking better photos. This deserves better.

My friend Amanda texted me earlier today as I was on my couch reading this recipe. Her message?

I can confirm it is a freaking experience.

WHOA. Sent at the very moment I was staring down butternut squash soup ingredients? That's the kind of sign from the universe we all need every now and then to confirm our busy lives are zooming down exactly the right road. Of course, when all roads lead to soup, you're always on the right road. 

That said, when I recovered from my text-message-prompted existential awakening and got into the kitchen, I wasn't wildly pumped to be making a butternut squash soup. I mean, is there a single restaurant left in America without a butternut squash soup on its menu? 

I assume this dance is proof it's on the McDonald's menu.

And, follow-up: With butternut squash soup as ubiquitous as kale salad* at this point, what could convince me to make one myself? Particularly given the fact that we were having guests over, who more than likely would have an internal gastronomical Rolodex of the kerblillion (exact number) other versions they've encountered?

Chrissy Teigen, that's what. I'm way late boarding the Teigen train, but to be honest I never particularly considered buying a ticket before. She seemed fine and all, and I'd heard good things, but I hadn't paid enough attention to know I was genuinely missing out. Within a few pages of reading her book I realized I done messed up. She has a vivacious, fun, cheeky voice that belies her stupid-dumb-hotness, and within a paragraph I was convinced that she not only could be living one of the most lifey lives of all time but she also just knows what tastes good. Game: Teigen.

No penalty for excessive celebration.

And like that perfect ponytail, this recipe is a simple thing done well. With a handful of ingredients, it does what I love in a one-veg soup: It makes the butternut squash even squashier with little more than fire and good intentions. Sure, it takes a bit of extra care to prep the squash in batches, and extra patience to not stir it as it develops its caramelized crust, but that extra care delivers a delicate depth of flavor. It takes a watchful eye to fry sage leaves just enough to be crispy-crackly but not burnt. But if you do it, you get the bonus byproduct of an earthy green olive oil to take to the table, an apt accompaniment for hearty bread. This soup may not be wildly imaginative or new, but the method treats each ingredient as precious - more than anything, that's what comes through in the taste.

So pretty they almost sparkle!

To sum up: I could roll around in this soup like Chrissy Teigen on a swimsuit shoot.

But soup instead of, uh, pennies? What's happening?

Who knows, rolling in it might even do good things for your skin! Another selling point for me is that this soup is easily adapted to your alimentary needs. I tasted it before adding cream and it was a delectable vegan soup, and it tastes great as a lacto-veg soup, which it will remain if you don't add the crispy prosciutto on top for your omnivore guests. Three in one!

Side note: Always taste as you go, even if your dishwasher decides to conveniently quit working this week and that means hand-washing more spoons. Just me?

Still vegan at this point.

If I revisit this one in the future, I'll likely add some heat to it because that's my typical taste, and forgo the cream because vanity duh.

By the time we sat down to dinner, I was so bought in on Chrissy Teigen that we decided John Legend would be the soundtrack to our meal. And, as delusional as this sounds, her writing has me so convinced of her personality that I think she'd actually be stoked to have one more person in her camp. And what a charming camp it is.

Omg, Chrissy, you're just too humble!

*Yes, we served the soup with kale salad. 

Butternut Squash Soup 

From Cravings by Chrissy Teigen

Serves at least 6

Ingredients

3 1/2 pounds butternut squash, peeled and seeded, chopped into 1-inch cubes

5 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil (plus more if you want to make the fried sage)

1 tablespoon kosher salt

1 teaspoon ground black pepper

4 cups vegetable broth

3 or 4 sprigs of fresh sage

1 yellow onion, diced

1 tablespoon minced garlic

3/4 cup heavy cream

Method

Place cubed squash in a large bowl and toss with salt, pepper, and 1 tablespoon olive oil.

Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in your soup pot over medium-high, then add half the seasoned squash and spread it out in one layer so each piece has a chance to caramelize. Cook for 7 minutes without disturbing, then give it a good stir and cook 5 more minutes. Transfer first batch to a bowl and repeat with second half of squash.

While the second batch is browning, finely chop four sage leaves. When second batch of squash is done, add sage, onion and garlic to the pot, stirring to scrape up the crispy browned pieces stuck to the bottom. Cook until onions are starting to brown, stirring occasionally. 

Add broth and first batch of squash to the pot, making sure to scrape the bottom again, then increase heat to bring it up to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and let it cook at not-too-gentle simmer until the squash is totally starting to have a breakdown - about 25 minutes. 

In a small skillet over medium-high, heat about 1/4 cup of olive oil. Add a few large sage leaves at a time - they'll sizzle and bubble immediately. As soon as they stop bubbling, remove them from the oil. For me, this was less than 10 seconds. Let them drain on paper towels. Chrissy recommends two sage leaves per bowl, but I kept adding sage to mine - I say make as many as you'd like.

Once the squash has begun its fundamental corporeal crisis, blend it until smooth. I used my trusty immersion blender, but you can also work in batches and use a standard blender. 

Chrissy tops hers with more cream, plus the fried sage and crispy prosciutto (see below), but I decided to make one healthy decision yesterday and not add more cream to my version. 

JK I totally meant to and forgot. Let me know if it makes a taste difference - it almost certainly would have been prettier with that swirl o' white.

Optional Omnivore Topping

A few strips of prosciutto, crisped on a parchment-lined baking sheet at 400 degrees for 11 minutes.

P.s. Typing "squash" that much kept making me think "Sasquatch," which of course led to "Sasquash," which obviously I had to google and double-obvs the internet provided me with a lot to think about. First to ponder: whether to buy this shirt:

Credit here

Curried Lentil, Tomato and Coconut Soup

More ginger per cubic inch than Geri Halliwell!

This powerfully spiced vegan beauty was the perfect start to Soupruary's 10th anniversary. See, it's been a little cold here in Cincinnati this week. I know intellectually that there are colder places on earth, but if you had told me that on Thursday I would have tried really hard to roll my eyes at you, and fully failed because my eye-juice was too frozen. The wind chill was some super negative number, and I'm like "Dude! Wind! Chill! I'm out here tryna stay positive!"

If I've said it once I've said it 138 times: for me, all weather is soup weather. But this is textbook other-people's-soup-weather. This is next level. This is soup weather goals. This is please-god-warm-me-from-the-inside-so-I-can-find-the-will-to-live-again kind of soup weather. And for that, you don't just need soup, you need spicy soup. 

This one gets its kick from a high-quality curry powder (I get mine at Dean's at Findlay Market), way more than your typical pinch of crushed red pepper, and a full quarter cup of finely chopped fresh ginger.

I'm definitely going to turn to this recipe next time I feel a deficit in the wellness department. There's nothing like an aggressive jolt of ginger to knock out anything trying to curtail your general productivity.

Actual footage of this soup in action. 

If you're braced to get metaphorically zapped in the mouth by whatever that weapon Geri's using is (uhhh, giant projectile laser syringe?), feel free to ratchet down the spices - this is still going to be delicious. And that, my friend, is due to two perfect ingredients. What are they? 

LOL JK no secrets in soup

Ingredient number 1: Just the right amount of coconut stirred into the soup as it cooks means you've got a light creaminess throughout, particularly with the way red lentils tend to lose their integrity and melt into the soup. A drizzle of cold, thick coconut milk on top just before you eat it balances out the spice and feels lusciously decadent (which is most of why I come to the table). 

But come on, we all know about coconut milk here.

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T KNOW

Ingredient number 2: The reason this recipe intrigued me in the first place was the large quantity of cilantro stems. Gasp! Did she say cilantro STEMS? Those things that go in the garbage? Yes! That very garbage is actually full of flavor (tastes like vanilla! ok I lied it tastes like cilantro) and has a lovely, tender texture when cooked - for me it really set this soup apart. Now to decide what to do with all these cilantro leaves. Hey, new rule, leaves: you're the garbage now! 

Ok I lied again, food waste is wrong. 

Here's the truth: This soup is satisfying, hearty, memorable, healthy, budget-friendly and simple enough to cook up on a weeknight after a long day at work. So, go for it! Eating this soup feels like reading a self-help book (one of the good ones! maybe even a Brené Brown!). And let's face it: if you're reading this, you're probably in your thirties too so reading self-help books is officially your second job. And when I say "reading" I obviously mean half-listening on Audible while you attempt to get your life in order.

But I digress. Let's set the Soupruary 2019 stage. Over the last decade, I've grown my cookbook shelf by leaps and bounds. For my birthday each year, I pull all those titles that have been waiting in my Amazon cart and go on a little shopping spree. I then do my best Ron-Howard-in-the-Music-Man impression for two days until my package arrives. I rip it open, go directly to the couch, and gleefully read every page while salivating like a whole family of rabid raccoons. I then put them on my shelf never to attempt a single recipe.

This injustice ends today! This year, with a few exceptions most likely because nobody's perfect, I'll attempt to splash broth on each and every one of these lovingly collected and stupidly neglected tomes.  I can't wait to see where it'll take me and what new habits I might form.

I started with one of my newer acquisitions: Ottolenghi Simple. Yotam has yet to let me down with his other books, and this lived up to his hype as a true vegetablista (did I just make that up? It's truly terrible).

 It's like fashionista but for vegetables, get it? You get it.

NB: To accompany, I made the cauliflower tabbouleh from this book (dill, mint, parsley, scallions, allspice, lemons, pomegranate seeds, pistachio, and love), and it was a hit. Book review: Very yes!

Our friends Kristin and John brought some gorgeous homemade bread to the table, and we dined and laughed,  then went to see Trevor Noah perform (laughed some more), then went to the Bay Horse Cafe where we told stories and "played" soap opera trivia (laughed the most). So, IMHO, this recipe passed the most important test: laying the foundation for a night of real connection with some of your favorite people.

Oh, also:

I wore my best turtleneck and clicked my heels together three times while chuckling out warmly self-effacing one-liners, but for some reason that didn't make my kitchen turn into Diane Keaton's from Something's Gotta give. I'll make do.

Recipe time!

Curried Lentil, Tomato and Coconut Soup

From Ottolenghi Simple
Serves 4 or 5

Ingredients

2 tablespoons coconut oil
1 yellow onion, diced
1 tablespoon curry powder (more or less to taste)
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (ditto)
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1/4 cup minced fresh ginger (peel it first!)
3/4 cup red lentils
1 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes
1 1/4 cups chopped cilantro stems (from about 1 1/2 bunches) plus a few leaves for garnish
2 1/2 cups water
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 13.5 oz can full-fat coconut milk

Method

Heat the coconut oil in your soup pot over medium-high. Add the onion and stir until it's soft and brown - the sign you've got some good caramelization going (about 8 minutes).

Add the curry powder, pepper flakes, garlic and ginger, and stir for 2 more minutes.

Add the lentils, tomatoes (with their liquid), cilantro stems, water, salt and pepper and bring to a boil, then decrease heat to medium.

When you open the can of coconut milk, it will likely be separated into the thick creamy part and the thin translucent part. It's important that these 2 become 1(last Spice Girls reference, I promise), so you'll dump it all into a bowl and then stir it up until you have one smooth, creamy liquid. Save 1/4 cup for topping your soup, and then add the rest to the simmering pot.

Simmer for 25 minutes, then serve topped with coconut milk and cilantro leaves.