It started with the bacon. Not a craving—just the sound. That slow sizzle that feels like something’s finally happening. The kitchen was too quiet, the kind that makes you suspicious of your own stillness. I wasn’t going to cook. Not really. Just warm something. But then I found the folded page in the back of that 2001 Martha Stewart Living—the one with the soup I always skip past. Butternut. Bacon. Onion. The kind of thing you make when you’re trying to be gentle with yourself without saying it out loud.
The squash was already on the counter. I don’t even remember putting it there.
What the Original Looked Like
Her Highness plays it safe here—like she always does when there’s root veg involved. Six slices of bacon, browned slow. Sweet onion (Vidalia if you’re being obedient), a whole three cups of it, melted down in butter like something out of a November afternoon. Squash cut clean, thyme thrown in like a spell. Water and broth in equal measure—because balance is sacred to her.
She doesn’t puree it until every piece softens like apology. She garnishes with bacon like it’s punctuation. It’s a quiet recipe, one that assumes you have time and salt and reasons to sit still.
What I Did Differently
I used regular yellow onion because that’s what I had, and mine wasn’t sweet—it was sharp and slightly mean, like me that day. I added more thyme than she called for. Not out of rebellion. Just because the jar spilled and I didn’t bother fixing it. And I left some bacon in the pot while the onion cooked. That was deliberate. I wanted it to carry through—fat, salt, memory.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
The bacon crisped while I listened to Mae’s podcast through the wall. She’s home again—temporarily, she says. But her noise fills the corners like she never left.
I used the dented Dutch oven. Of course I did. Still tap it with the spoon sometimes like I’m checking if the past is still warm in there. It is.
I chopped the squash unevenly. Some pieces were too big. I didn’t care. It all softens eventually—squash, people.
The thyme looked like too much in the pot, floating like dead spiders, but I didn’t skim it. Let it steep. Let it overstay.
When I blended it, it splattered hot across my hand. I didn’t flinch. I used to. Not now.
The soup turned this deep honey-gold. Not vibrant—more like a sweater you’ve worn too many winters.
And when I tasted it, I didn’t say anything. Just stood there, listening to Mae laugh through the wall. I think she was on the phone. I think she said, “Mum’s cooking something weird again.”
A Few Things I Learned
The soup thickens more than you think it will. Especially if you wander off.
Letting the bacon sit on top after it’s been in the fridge overnight? Sharpens everything.
And squash, when blended, smells like afternoons you almost forgot.
What I Did With the Extras
Mae came into the kitchen around nine. Didn’t say anything. Just grabbed a mug, filled it halfway, and sat on the counter barefoot. We didn’t use bowls.
I stood with her, sipping it like tea.
The bacon slid to the bottom, salty and limp. She said it was “surprisingly not gross.” That’s a compliment.
Would I Make It Again?
If the radiator breaks again and I don’t feel like talking—yes.
That’s As Much As I Remember
The pan stayed warm long after we stopped eating.
The window fogged up. I didn’t wipe it down.
If soft food’s your thing, I did a cheesy potato mess last week you might like. louder than this. but healing, in its own sloppy way.
FAQs
Yeah, but it gets thicker and a little sad when reheated. fixable with broth or cream. i’ve done both.
Use dried. just less of it. or skip it and add a little nutmeg. or don’t. it’ll still taste like soup.
A little. the squash leans that way. the bacon fights back. balance.
Sure. i’ve done it when mae’s vegetarian moods come back around. still good.
Bread, ideally. something crusty. or cold cheese straight from the fridge if you’re too tired to slice anything properly.
Check out More Recipes
- Martha Stewart Shortbread Cookies
- Martha Stewart Roast Chicken
- Martha Stewart Chocolate Brownies
- Martha Stewart Fudgy Brownies
Martha Stewart Butternut Squash Soup
Description
Made it because it felt like soup weather and I didn’t know what else to do.
Ingredients
Instructions
- Cook the bacon: start slow, medium heat, flip once, ignore the splatter. I left two strips in while the rest dried on a paper towel that stuck like memory.
- Add the butter and onion: right into the fat, let the onion soften until the kitchen smells like warmth and time you forgot you had. stir now and then, or don’t.
- Toss in the squash, thyme, salt, broth, and water: don’t worry if the squash is uneven. it all gives eventually. the thyme floated weird but I left it.
- Simmer it down: bring to a boil with the lid cockeyed, then lower the heat and let it go until the squash collapses when poked. that’s your cue.
- Blend in batches: unless you want a soup facial. I forgot the lid once. steam burns are sneaky. blend it smooth, then back into the pot.
- Season to taste: I over-peppered. it worked. taste it warm and think about nothing. or everything.
- Serve with bacon on top: or crumbled in. or eaten while standing barefoot by the stove. Mae did that. she didn’t wait for a bowl. neither did I.