This is my lovingly adapted butternut squash soup. My father, mother, and husband ask for this soup every September. Recipes that are made year-after-year at the same time of year carry a level of nostalgia that just improves with time. I can no longer make this soup without thinking of my then two-year-old son licking the balsamic vinegar and olive oil from every unroasted tomato. The taste of the soup might be marvelous, but the memories are transcendent and priceless.