Fall is here and it arrived the way Nebraska fall always arrives: suddenly, completely, as if the state flipped a switch and summer was over and the air was different and the light was gold and the corn was drying and the world had changed while I was not looking. I love fall. I love it with the desperation of someone who has survived summer and the anticipation of someone who knows winter is coming. Fall is the good part. Fall is always the good part.
The garden gave us its last tomatoes this week, the final harvest, and I pulled the plants and composted them and Josie cried again, because Josie cries at the end of every garden season and I let her because the crying is honest and the honesty is beautiful and a nine-year-old who cries over tomato plants has a heart that will serve her well in this world.
I canned the last tomatoes. Eight quarts. The basement shelf is full: twenty quarts of whole tomatoes, six pints of salsa, four jars of marinara. Summer in jars, lined up like soldiers, ready for winter. I photographed the shelf and posted it on the blog and the response was enormous because there is something deeply satisfying about seeing food you grew, preserved and stored, ready for the months when nothing grows. It is the oldest form of hope: we save because we believe there is a future worth saving for.
I made a roasted butternut squash soup this week, the first soup of fall. Butternut squash, roasted until caramelized. Onion, garlic, chicken broth, a little cream, nutmeg. Pureed until silky. It is the color of October and the taste of harvest and I ate it at the kitchen table with fresh bread and the sun streaming through the window at that low autumn angle that makes everything golden, and the soup was golden, and the bread was golden, and the afternoon was golden, and I thought: this is enough. This afternoon, this soup, this light. This is enough.
That afternoon with the butternut squash soup stayed with me — the gold light, the bread, the feeling that a bowl of something warm and silky was its own kind of grace. If you’re coming into fall and you need a soup that delivers exactly that same comfort, this Cream of Cauliflower Soup is the one I keep coming back to. It purées into the same kind of velvet you’re after, it’s built from pantry and produce-drawer staples, and it is the right color for October. Make it on a day when the light is low and the corn is drying and you need the kitchen to smell like something good.
Cream of Cauliflower Soup
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 large head cauliflower, cut into florets (about 6 cups)
- 1 medium yellow onion, roughly chopped
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 4 cups low-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
- 1 cup heavy cream
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon white pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- Fresh chives or flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for garnish
- Crusty bread, for serving
Instructions
- Sauté the aromatics. Melt the butter in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 to 6 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant.
- Add cauliflower and broth. Add the cauliflower florets to the pot and pour in the broth. Stir to combine. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat to medium-low. Cover and simmer until the cauliflower is completely tender and yields easily when pierced with a fork, about 18 to 20 minutes.
- Blend until silky. Remove the pot from heat. Using an immersion blender, purée the soup directly in the pot until completely smooth. Alternatively, carefully transfer the soup in batches to a countertop blender, vent the lid, and blend until silky. Return the blended soup to the pot.
- Stir in the cream and season. Return the pot to low heat. Stir in the heavy cream, salt, white pepper, and nutmeg. Heat gently, stirring, for 4 to 5 minutes until warmed through. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
- Serve. Ladle into bowls, garnish with fresh chives or parsley, and serve immediately with crusty bread alongside.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 195 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 11g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 590mg