Cauliflower and chili soup

This cauliflower soup is different from all other cauliflower soups found anywhere in the universe. It is utterly, hopelessly, not replicable. It is unique. So don't even try. You will see why this is so, but you will also immediately grasp a hundred possible variations, if not a thousand.

Chiles in this combination is one of the things that makes this soup different. I will never again be able to match exactly the flavor combination or the heat quotient of these chiles right here as chiles do tend to vary widely within species due to hybridization, the effects of terroir, and climate.

1) Poblano (Pasilla at the grocery store), a predictably mild chile with great flavor, although occasionally you will unexpectedly get one that is quite hot. 2) Anaheim, another usually mild chile, although here again you will come across some that are much hotter than expected. 3) Jalapeño, reliably moderately hot, low on the Scoville scale but still higher than the previous two,  although occasionally you will come across a disappointing mild hybrid. See? It's a crapshoot. The only way to know for sure is to nick off a piece and taste it. I didn't bother with that because I love them all and I do appreciate their various flavors and I especially love them in combination. However, I would not serve this. Most people I know would find the result objectionably hot. Pussies.

The chiles were roasted under a broiler. Atop a grill works well too. So does a stovetop pan. As well as a blowtorch.  The chiles were turned so that they would blister on opposite sides. An attempt was made to blister four sides, if they had sides, but some chiles roasted faster than others and some chiles finished after one turning. They were removed one-by one, two-by-two until all the sides were blistered. Of course they do not blister evenly no matter how attentive one is to the roasting. It is the nature of the vegetable fruit.

The chiles were placed in a paper bag and sweated while other things were attended. They stayed in the bag until they cooled and wrinkled further and the skin began to separate, about 15 to 20 minutes. Then they were peeled as best as they could be, trimmed, and de-seeded. Some peeled completely, others peeled hardly at all. No need to be too fussy about this. But I am fussy about seeds. I don't like seeds. But I do like the membrane that holds the seeds. Resist the urge to rinse under running water. That rinses away flavor and that will not do. Still, I use lightly running water to rinse my fingertips because the seeds stick and it goes faster. Plus I do not much care for my fingers being icky.

So there's that. Ordinarily all of that ↑ would be left out of cauliflower soup, and if the chiles were left out you would still have a perfectly wonderful concoction, if not stupendous, although less exciting in my humble opinion nor in accordance with my particular preferences.

This smoked salt pork is truly gross but it does impart an incredible flavor. It will be used and then discarded before the rest of the ingredients are processed.

This is the last of the smoked salt pork, and I'm glad it's gone. The segment is sliced into five pieces so at the end I must dig around until all five pieces are found and removed. These are dropped into a preheated soup pot and its fat rendered providing liquid fat to start the garlic. Once the garlic is caramelized, the pan is deglazed with wine and the remaining vegetables are added to the pot.

Wine makes everything better. FACT! Cooking changes wine. Specialists always aver using wine that matches, compliments, the thing being cooked but my wine of choice is saki, a rice wine that I generally despise in its uncooked state, but adore cooked as an ingredient. I do not understand this paradox, I just accept it and use it. One reason I like saki is because I can store it on the counter without it going sour or flat. (That I know about. I never do drink it straight up after a bottle is opened for cooking. So who knows? Maybe it is going flat and souring, but it still works.)

Bay leaves and smoked salt pork removed before the rest of the soup was processed.

The second thing that makes this soup utterly, hopelessly, not replicable is that I used all the cream and Half-and-Half that I had on hand for ice cream (in popsicle form that I will show later). There was a little ice cream left over from filling the popsicle freezer forms so I thought, "Aha! I can use the vanilla ice cream in place of the ordinary cream for cream of cauliflower soup."  Huh? What? Well, that's certainly different.