Moroccan Spiced Cauliflower Soup

October in Vermont. The first week of the month, and the foliage is building — not at its peak yet, but getting there, the maples blushing in stages the way shy people blush: a bit at first, then all at once. The sugar maples go orange first. The red maples follow. The birches turn gold like someone painted them overnight. I've watched this show sixty-four times and it still catches me off guard, the way beauty does when you stop expecting it.

I made butternut squash soup. The squash are ripe — heavy, orange, the last big harvest from a garden that's winding down toward its winter rest. You split them, roast them cut-side down until the flesh is soft and caramelized at the edges, scoop it out. Then onion, butter, broth, a pinch of nutmeg. Blend smooth. The soup is the color of the leaves outside, which is either a coincidence or the universe having a design sense I didn't give it credit for.

Helen's flower garden is in its autumn glory. The black-eyed Susans are still going strong — yellow and brown, standing tall against the October sky. She planted them in June and they've been earning their place ever since. Helen checks on them every morning with the focused attention of a nurse assessing a patient. The flowers don't need this much scrutiny. Helen needs to scrutinize. It's how she shows love — through attention, through care, through the daily act of looking closely at the things she's responsible for.

David brought the kids for a Sunday visit. Teddy is seven and reading everything he can get his hands on. Anna is four and in pre-K and apparently the social director of her classroom. James is fifteen months and walking with the unsteady determination of someone who's just learned this new skill and intends to use it on every surface available, including the dog. Frost bore James's attentions with the patience of a saint, which is what border collies are when children are involved.

I wrote about squash soup for the blog. Someone asked if they could use acorn squash instead of butternut. Yes, but butternut is sweeter. Someone asked about adding apple. Also yes, but then it's a different soup. Someone asked about curry powder. I said I didn't know what curry powder was. This is a lie. I know what curry powder is. But a Vermont man making butternut squash soup has no business adding curry powder, and I will maintain this position until the maples stop turning and the cows come home, whichever happens first.

October. Soup. Leaves. The garden's last hurrah. We watch. We eat. We keep going.

The butternut soup was already done when it occurred to me that cauliflower — the big head sitting on the counter, left over from the garden’s final haul — wanted the same treatment: roasted, blended, made smooth and warm against a cold October evening. I told myself I’d keep it simple, the way I always do. Then I reached past the nutmeg and found the cumin, and one thing led to another. A Vermont man adding Moroccan spices to his soup is perhaps a small contradiction, but the leaves outside don’t much care what I call it, and neither does Helen.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 large head cauliflower (about 2 lbs), cut into florets
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 medium yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon ground turmeric
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
4 cups vegetable broth
1 can (14 oz) coconut milk
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
Salt and black pepper to taste
Fresh cilantro or flat-leaf parsley, for serving
A drizzle of olive oil or a spoonful of plain yogurt, for serving

Instructions

Roast the cauliflower. Preheat your oven to 425°F. Toss the cauliflower florets with 2 tablespoons of the olive oil and a generous pinch of salt. Spread in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet. Roast for 25–30 minutes, turning once halfway through, until the edges are deeply golden and caramelized. Set aside.
Soften the aromatics. While the cauliflower roasts, warm the remaining 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 7–8 minutes until soft and translucent. Add the garlic and cook another minute until fragrant.
Toast the spices. Add the cumin, coriander, smoked paprika, turmeric, cinnamon, and cayenne (if using) to the pot. Stir constantly for about 60 seconds until the spices are fragrant and lightly toasted against the bottom of the pan.
Build the soup. Add the roasted cauliflower to the pot, then pour in the vegetable broth. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat and cook for 10 minutes, allowing the flavors to come together.
Blend smooth. Remove the pot from the heat. Using an immersion blender, blend the soup directly in the pot until completely smooth and velvety. Alternatively, carefully transfer in batches to a countertop blender. Return to low heat.
Finish with coconut milk. Stir in the coconut milk and lemon juice. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and pepper. Warm gently over low heat for 3–5 minutes; do not boil.
Serve. Ladle into bowls. Finish each with a drizzle of olive oil or a small spoonful of plain yogurt, and a few leaves of fresh cilantro or parsley.

Nutrition (per serving)

Moroccan Spiced Cauliflower Soup — When the Garden Gives Its Last