I, on the other hand, love squash. I love its heft, its color, its potential. I love the fact that there are a million recipes out there for each bountiful, beautiful squash. Some of them are hearty and homey, like Baked Acorn Squash with Bacon, or Butternut Squash with Mustard Greens. These are the recipes that sustained humanity for centuries. You can't take a bite without sensing in your soul that someone, somewhere once made this in a squatty shelter while humming a song that had been passed down for generations.
Nowadays, of course, even the humblest of ingredients are being gussied up, brought blinkingly into the spotlight, and called chic.A quick search on the Food Network website will bring you all sorts of fancy recipes - Butternut Squash and Vanilla Risotto, Roasted Acorn Squash with Gorgonzola Pizza, Rigatoni with Squash and Prawns. It's like dressing up the local honky-tonk star and putting her onstage in Vegas. All the big-name chefs and TV personalities are doing it, and, frankly, I salute them for it. Whatever it takes to bring the lowly squash into its own is ok by me.
Consider this: Most winter squash have a low glycemic index, a high 'satiety factor' (they make you feel full), almost all of the usual vitamins and minerals in sizeable and balanced quantities, are very low in fat, and contain all of the 9 amino acids (which, as we learned in high school, are the building blocks for a healthy body). Plus, they come in such oddly-named varieties as Crookneck, Turk's Turban, Pattypan, Delicata, Indian Bitter Melon, Eight Ball, Gooseneck, Curshaw, Cheese Wheels... the list goes on and on.
Clearly, I have done a little research for this blog entry. (While it's true that my head is filled with useless knowledge, this happened to be some that I wasn't previously lugging around.) I think I've finally found the one thing that will convince my husband to like squash: pumpkin pie. Turns out, most canned pumpkin pie filling that you buy isn't really 100% pumpkin after all. It's really a mixture of some pumpkin, and squash! (This really is a misnomer, since pumpkins are actually relatives of the squash.) Yep - all those folks at Thanksgiving who turn up their noses at the squash dishes brought by Aunt Herriot, but then turn around and enthusiastically go back for seconds on punkin pie are really showcasing their lack of knowledge and discernment in the pie-hole department.
Truth be told, I can hardly blame them for their low-class palate. Despite all my fancy talk and recipe searching, I almost always fall back on the same method of cooking up a mess of squash - bake it with a little butter and brown sugar. I suppose that this is much the same method that they make that faux pumpkin pie, albeit with a hint of sugar and a lot more pureeing. I have never yet thought to get out the whipped cream for my mashed squash - perhaps I'll have to give it a try. I now have the facts to quote you about the health benefits of squash, and the recipes to showcase just what a sophisticated cook I am for knowing how to use such an 'in-style' ingredient, but the reason I love squash is much more simple. I connect with that woman in her squatty shelter. I, too, hum when I'm hacking, sing when I'm slicing, just like she did. (Ok - I tend to sing Folk ballads from the 60's, but the idea is the same.) There's something universal, sustaining, autumnal, and comforting about a good, old, reliable squash. That's what I'm into. That's what I'm about.
Next time - perhaps we'll deconstruct a Brussel Sprout. It's bound to be less educational, but much more entertaining...
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