In our house when the weather turns cold there is one dish that gets more requests than any other: bean soup. And of all the bean soups, this is my personal favorite. The "butter" in the name is not a separate ingredient, but a description of the rich creaminess and pale color of these large, yellow limas. A meal all by itself, this soup becomes a feast when mised with crusty bread and a little green salad.

This recipe may seem a little fussy. When I was a kid I watched this being prepared with nothing more than some water, some bacon grease, and dried herbs out of a year-old bottle. And it was good. But this is better, because it follows the only rule that must be followed with soup: if it doesn't add flavor, it doesn't go in. When I first starting cooking I thought of soup as water with stuff in it. Once I realized that soup is something else entirely, a kind of alchemy in which flavors are combined, concentrated, and transmogrified into superfood, I began to make soup.

So, broth instead of water. Vegetables sautéed to carmelize the sugars and release the aromatics, and the sauté pan deglazed with a splash of wine. If you don't have pork stock (easy to make; get neck bones from the grocer) you can buy ham stock on the soup aisle. You can also finish this soup (after the hot break—see recipe) in a crock-pot.

But really, this is dead easy. The hardest part is remembering the night before to put on the beans to soak. After that, just remember that the beans need to simmer until they break down, forming a rich, creamy base, like a thin paste. If this isn't happening after a couple of hours of simmering, add just a pinch more baking soda. If it gets too thick (it will get steadily thicker the longer it cooks) thin with a little water. When finished the soup will be thick but silky.