The maples are turning. It starts slowly — a branch here, a limb there, one tree ahead of its neighbors like an overachiever who can't wait for the rest of the class. Then suddenly, over the course of a week, the whole hillside goes, and Vermont looks like someone set fire to the landscape in the most beautiful way possible. Orange, red, gold, crimson. Every year I see it and every year it catches me off guard, as though I forgot what trees could do when they decide to die magnificently.
The leaf peepers have arrived. Out-of-staters in rental cars, driving slowly, stopping in the middle of the road to photograph a tree. I try to be patient. They're here for the beauty, and the beauty is real, and if I grew up somewhere flat and brown I'd probably stop in the road too. But I didn't grow up somewhere flat and brown. I grew up here, where the trees have been putting on this show for longer than humans have been watching, and I have places to be, even if the place is my own kitchen and the urgency is that the soup is on the stove.
The soup: butternut squash. The squash are ripe — I grew them along the fence where they sprawled over everything including Frost's outdoor bed, which he found personally offensive. You split the squash, roast it cut-side down until it's soft, scoop out the flesh. Then: onion, cooked in butter, the squash, chicken broth, a pinch of nutmeg, salt, pepper. Blend it smooth. Finish with a little cream if you want. I want. I always want cream in my squash soup because I'm from Vermont and dairy is a way of life.
David brought James down for a Sunday visit. The baby is three months old and has learned to smile, which he does constantly and at everyone, as though the world is the funniest thing he's ever seen. This is, I think, the correct response to being three months old. The world is funny. The rest of us have just forgotten.
I held James on the porch while the maples blazed behind us. David took a photograph. I'm told it's a good one — the old man and the baby and the October trees. I'll take his word for it. I've never been photogenic and see no reason to start now.
Helen made pumpkin bread after dinner. The whole house smelled like cinnamon and nutmeg and the particular sweetness of a kitchen that's doing what kitchens do in October: preparing for the long dark. It's coming. But not yet. Not yet.
That evening, with James’s milk-and-sunshine smell still on my shirt and the maple light fading from the windows, I wanted to make something that matched the day—warm and unhurried and a little indulgent. Butternut squash soup has been my October answer for thirty years, and Helen’s pumpkin bread had already put cinnamon in the air, which is all the invitation I need. Here’s how I make it.
Creamy Roasted Butternut Squash Soup
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 55 min | Total Time: 1 hr 10 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 large butternut squash (about 3 lbs), halved lengthwise and seeded
- 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 4 cups chicken broth (low-sodium)
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 1/2 cup heavy cream
- Optional garnish: a swirl of cream, toasted pepitas, fresh thyme
Instructions
- Roast the squash. Preheat oven to 400°F. Brush the cut sides of the squash with 1 tablespoon olive oil and place cut-side down on a rimmed baking sheet. Roast for 40–45 minutes until completely tender and the flesh yields easily when pressed. Let cool slightly.
- Scoop the flesh. Use a large spoon to scoop the roasted squash flesh away from the skin into a bowl. Discard the skin. You should have roughly 3 cups of flesh.
- Cook the onion. In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium heat, melt the butter with the remaining tablespoon of olive oil. Add the diced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 8–10 minutes until soft and just beginning to turn golden. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more.
- Build the soup. Add the squash flesh to the pot along with the chicken broth, nutmeg, salt, and pepper. Stir to combine. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook for 10 minutes to let the flavors come together.
- Blend until smooth. Use an immersion blender directly in the pot to puree until completely smooth, about 1–2 minutes. Alternatively, transfer in batches to a countertop blender, venting the lid carefully. Return to pot over low heat.
- Finish with cream. Stir in the heavy cream and taste for seasoning. Adjust salt and pepper as needed. Heat gently — do not boil after adding cream.
- Serve. Ladle into bowls and garnish with a swirl of cream, a few toasted pepitas, or a pinch of nutmeg if desired. Serve immediately with crusty bread.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 20g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 420mg