When the monsoon rains begin the winter squash plants take off, their vines racing lickety-split across my vegetable garden, overtaking the thickets of sunflowers.
Underneath the lush canopy of leaves bright yellow flowers peek out, their bloom lasting only a few hours as they capture the brilliance of the sun and attract the pollinators.
Six to eight weeks later, I relish the satisfaction of harvesting the fruits, knowing these squashes will last through the winter months, their golden meat full of the sweet warmth of summer.
Squashes are a New World food, originating in Mexico and Central America as small wild gourds, bitter and hard. By means of human selection for flavor, digestibility and probably storage hardiness, the squashes have evolved over centuries into the edible varieties we love today. The archaeological record shows that squashes have been cultivated for well over 5,000 years.
Along with beans and corn, squashes formed the powerful “three sisters” basis of New World agriculture. Squashes have traces of lysine, an amino acid also present in beans, which aids in the absorption of the nutrients in corn. Along with amaranth, the robust nutrition provided by these farmed “three sisters” enabled the various cultures of the Americas—including the Maya, Aztec, and the tribes of the Southwestern U.S. desert—to thrive for centuries.
Happily, winter squashes are both easy to grow and abundant in our markets today. They provide a versatile, tasty flesh that lends itself to all manner of soups, stews, pasta dishes, casseroles, pies, cookies, breads and muffins.
To save time and labor I like to roast most varieties of winter squash by cutting them in half, scraping out the cavities, brushing the cut side with coconut oil or other fat and roasting them cut-side down in a hot oven until tender. The squash is then ready to be stuffed, or the meat scooped out and used for many different recipes.
If the squash is too big to open with a knife, it can be dropped on a hard floor. It will be messy as it splits open into irregular shaped pieces that won’t easily sit cut-side down on a baking sheet, but if you brush all the exposed flesh surfaces with oil or fat, they will roast nicely anyway, becoming caramelized on their edges. When a squash needs to be peeled and used raw in a recipe, I almost always go for butternut, because the skin is smooth and easy to peel.
Squash and pumpkins are the same plant genus: Cucurbita.
There are four main species commonly available in seed catalogues and grocery stores:
C. pepo: there are two categories within this species including all the summer squashes, pattypan, various ornamental gourds, acorn squash and what we in the Unites States refer to as pumpkins.
C. maxima: includes Hubbard, banana and turban-shaped squashes such as buttercup (aka kabocha). Some of these varieties can grow up to 10–15 pounds and tolerate cold temperatures, therefore suitable for northern climates.
C. moschata: includes butternut, striped cushaw—which also can reach 15 pounds, crookneck varieties and silver edged, an ancient Meso-American landrace grown primarily for its large seeds.
The flavor and texture vary from one type to the next, ranging from sweet and tender delicata to rich and earthy pie pumpkins. Acorn squash tends to have dry, nutty, fibrous texture while buttercup, Long Island cheese pumpkin (aka fairy tale pumpkin) and butternut tend to be smooth, sweet and fine textured. The huge cushaw is sometimes described as mealy, good for breads and muffins; and we all can guess that spaghetti squash resembles the pasta of the same name.
The varied beauty of winter squashes is celebratory: We decorate our porches and hearths with the mottled green orbs, yellow striped oblongs, bumpy orange and green turbans and smooth, pink-skinned globes.
So, it is time to select an array of colorful, shapely squashes, arrange them attractively as fall decorations and enjoy their earthy beauty before you transform them into delicious dishes in the winter.
