It rained here yesterday. That sounds like a pretty mundane happening, but if you live in Southern California, it is an EVENT. We stood and watched the drizzle, “oohed” and “aahed” about the water zooming down the gutters, and fished around in the closet for our umbrellas, which we found brittle from underuse.

When we have an opportunity—a mandate, even—to be cozy inside rather than active outside, I revel in it. I put on my fuzziest socks, my thickest sweats, and hope to goodness I have ingredients for soup. In this case, I had made a prescient purchase of butternut squash—two puny gourds in the Thanksgiving leftover pile at the market.

My daughter and I love butternut squash soup, which has all the rich, nutty, and slightly tangy flavor of the squash without the rough, mealy texture of the flesh. This soup is fully blended into a smooth, creamy picture of fall.

While I stand by my position that soup can be a meal, I admit this soup on its own can leave you hungry in an hour. So I usually serve cheesy toast with it (toasted bread topped with sliced cheese and put under the broiler for a couple minutes). Grilled cheese would also be lovely if you have the energy. Butternut squash soup is just as dip-worthy as tomato soup.

My son takes one look at this meal and immediately recognizes it as his nemesis. Since three out of four family members really enjoy this soup, I keep it in rotation anyway. Cheerios is our go-to dinner-refusal meal, but since my son’s dislike of the soup is well known and settled science, I will often heat up a bowl of canned chili for him instead.  

Last night, I made cheesy toasts with pumpernickel sourdough (an alluring new option at our local grocery store) with Swiss cheese. It was delicious, and the sourness of the toast played well against the rich and slightly sweet soup.

For a soup, the preparation doesn’t take long. The worst part, by far, is the peeling and chopping of the squash—a truly unpleasant undertaking. Cautionary tale: After a devastating squash peeling episode, I vowed to switch to pre-cut butternut. I brought home a bag of it and cooked the soup only to find that the squash had turned, and the soup tasted sour and gross. I had to throw the whole thing out. I henceforth resolved to woman-up and conquer the squash myself.

I’m sure you can find all kinds of peeling and cutting tutorials online. My method is to trim the stem and stump so that each end is flat. Then I use a vegetable peeler to peel down the sides, cursing and sighing heavily and taking several breaks. Then I slice it vertically down the middle and scoop out the seeds using a teaspoon measure. Then I slice more vertical pieces and line those up and chop horizontal pieces.

The recipe calls for sage, but my daughter used a sprig of rosemary as garnish (it’s all about the aesthetic), and it occurs to me that rosemary would be a perfectly good herb to use instead of sage.

I imagine this soup is extremely good for you, though I have no nutritional information to back up my claims. It just feels like an infusion of beta-carotene. The original recipe came from Giada De Laurentiis on Food Network, but I have made some changes, of course.

Butternut Squash Soup

Time: 1 hour

Serves: 4 to 6

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 medium onion, chopped

1 large carrot, chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

3 lbs butternut squash, cut into ½” to ¾” pieces

6 cups vegetable stock

¼ cup fresh chopped sage

1 teaspoon or more maple syrup

Heat the butter and oil in a large soup pot over medium-high until melted. Add the onion and carrot and sauté until softened, 5 to 7 minutes. Add the garlic and stir until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add the squash and stock and bring to a boil. Stir in the sage. Continue at a moderate boil, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the squash is very tender, about 30 minutes.

Use an immersion blender to puree all of the soup. Alternatively, transfer soup to a blender and let cool a few minutes. Remove center cap, cover lightly with a kitchen towel, and blend. Hope that the soup does not explode. If the mixture seems angry, stop and let steam escape, then restart.

Taste for salt and pepper. I usually add ¼ to ½ teaspoon salt and a few turns of pepper. Then taste for sweetness. Depending on your squash and carrot, this is sometimes perfectly, slightly sweet. But I usually need to add at least a teaspoon of maple syrup. Go slowly and taste so you don’t overdo it—you want just enough sweetness to bring out the flavor of the squash.

Serve with cheesy toast or grilled cheese or toasted pita with hummus. Feel the squash goodness coursing through your veins.