Through sickness and health…

David and I have been married for just over three weeks, and our vows have already been put to the test.

Nah, not the fidelity part.  Not even that bit about asset variance.  Our fledgling union, alas, has floundered for the first time upon the rocks of the Common Cold.

Once I got the news David was home, succumbed to the upper respiratory funk spreading about town, I sped straight from work to his bedside, armed with Theraflu, gingerale and the noble intentions of the newly wed.

I found him propped up in bed, dosing Mucinex, downing a batch of chicken soup he made himself and adjusting the lineup of his Netflix queue. He rejected my Theraflu “poison,” waved away the gingerale and informed me that he preferred to be left ALONE, to wallow in his sickness to heal on his own agenda. He had a game plan in place and was invoking historical self-reliance.

Yes, that’s right. Alone, as in without me. ::sniff:: That’s fine, then. After assuring myself he wasn’t actually anywhere near death, just inflicted with a mild case of grumpies, I went back to my condo for a “chillin’ with the cats” kinda weekend.

Passing the grocery store, I had a sudden inspiration! Soup! I’ll make soup!

I know, what a devoted, even heroic thing to do – to sacrifice my wounded sensibility to make my cranky husband a bowl of homemade soup to speed his recovery, even though he had rejected my Nightingale-esque efforts.

Yes, that would be pretty awesome, wouldn’t it? That is, if I were actually making it for David, and more notably, if David actually liked soup.

Truth is, he hates soup. Well, all soup but for his bachelor chicken man-soup. Oh, and that white bean and ham chowder our friend Randall made for Soup Swap last year.

I, however, do like soup and do like it quite a bit.  Released to my own recognizance, I defiantly set to researching a soup recipe purely for personal enjoyment. Feeling just a tad scorned, I sought a soup chock full of nourishing, flu-fighting nutrients (that had David the option of partaking of it, assuredly would have restored him immediately) and yet a soup I knew David would loathe to the very fiber of its fiber, and never once let pass his lips, a soup he would hate on principles far beyond soupiness.  Cooked, cruciferous vegetables! Ha! Brightly colored tree fruits, mixed with cooked vegetables! Ha! Ha! Turmeric, garam masala and all those stinky Indian spices that are really good for you! Mwah, ha ha!

For I had, indeed, stumbled upon a recipe for Curried Cauliflower Apple soup found on Epicurious.com, chock full of health-enhancing ingredients. Of course, I put my own spin on it, yielding:

Delectably Delicious, Miraculously Healing Homemade Soup Not Even Slightly Made for My Undeserving Husband (a.k.a. Curried Cauliflower Apple Soup)
(serves one awesome wife, 3-4 times)

• 1 small onion, chopped fine (natural antibiotic, shown to lower blood pressure)
• 1 large garlic clove, minced (natural antibiotic)
• 2 teaspoons curry powder (contains turmeric – thought to enhance immune system, circumvent arthritis, alzheimers and heart disease)
• 1 teaspoon garam masala (reported to fight bacteria, promote circulation and respiration)
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 large Granny Smith or Honeycrisp Apple, peeled, cored and roughly chopped (studies indicate consumption of apples can prevent some forms of cancer, alzheimers and diabetes)
• 4 cups cauliflower flowerets (high in Vitamin C and folate)
• 2 1/2 cups chicken broth (renowned healing tonic of mothers and grandmothers world over)
• 1/2 cup half and half
• salt and pepper
• healthy pinch of cayenne (alleviates congestion and inflammation)

In a 3 1/2- to 4-quart saucepan cook onion, garlic, and curry powder in butter over low heat, stirring for several minutes until the onion is softened.

Add apples and ginger. Stir another minute.

Add cauliflower and chicken broth. Cover pot and simmer until cauliflower is very tender about 20 minutes.

Purée soup in batches in a blender (or food processor) until very smooth. (Word of advice, cover blender top with a kitchen towel to catch any molten soup exploding through blender lid!) Return pureed soup back to pan and reheat, adding half and half, salt, black pepper and cayenne to taste. 

Serve with a sense of accomplishment and a side of nyah, nyah, nyah, you sickie!

Delicious. I don’t know about him, but I’m feeling better already. Maybe I’m getting the hang of this marriage thing…

BTW, talking of tonics, a little sip to accompany your culinary labors: