Squash Squash Squash Winter Squash Squash

Tripping over Squash. Consoling Squash. Taking Squash to the dance. Chatting with Squash. Knocking on Squash. Clocking Squash. Listening to Squash spoken word. Belly dancing with Squash.

Squash Squash Squash Squash. Can't squelch Squash. O no.

When you make friends with a farmer, watch out. What you consider a garden they consider a flower pot, what you consider a farm, they consider a small garden, and so on. When I farm sit, Patrick says, motioning to his "summer garden," "Hey, take a few things before you leave, eh?"

What he means by a few things might be a case of tomatoes, any number of cucumbers measuring 1-2 feet, a pound or two of Sweet 100's, 10-12 Italian eggplants, and enough basil to make pesto for a hungry basketball team. I always remind him that I don't need this much. When I get back to the Bay Area, I give away as much as I can.

After I excitedly wrote about Annabelle Lenderink, I ran into her at the market. "HEY!" She shouted at me. "I went and Googled myself the other day, which I never do, and I saw you wrote about me! What's the big deal? You called me GRUFF??!!! I'M NOT GRUFF!"

Backing away hurriedly into oblivious Berkeleyites, I meekly responded, "Wait, didn't I also call you friendly and beautiful? I think I also called you beautiful... didn't I?"

"I DON'T REMEMBER. But you called me gruff, I know THAT, and I'M NOT GRUFF!"

But now she likes me. Go figure.

And every week she pushes of another few squash on me-- "HERE. Try this one. Come back AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!"

Thank goodness my beau is a strapping young ox. They're strong, and can carry more than one 5# Squash at a time.

So after a few weeks of turning the tight corner into my cozy leetle livingroom and stubbing all my toes against these hard winter beauties, I roasted all but one of them for my first Pie Dough class yesterday.

I'll have to get back to you on the names. That Annabelle is one smart, gruff, beautiful, sharp, funny, knowledgible farmer. She's growing forgotten Heirloom Squash varieties, bred for more defined, specific traits and characteristics, both in flavour and texture.

Starting in the upper right ~

The long dark orange one: this is you basic "pumpkin flavour" and texture. It roasts very fast, retains a lot of moisture, has a thinnish skin and can be a bit stringy. The flavour was nothing to write home about.

The green ovular shape: yellow flesh, retains a fair amount of moisture, not stringy, a bit spongey, very light mild flavour. Compared to the others, this one lost.

The two corrugated conical pale pieces: This is my new favorite Squash. It has a pale, buttery flesh which can both be really smooth or slightly spongy-- depending on size, age and how you cook it. It's barely sweet, but just enough so that you could use it for pie. If you can get to the Berkeley Saturday Farmer's market, please please buy enough of these to last you.

The orangy-black-green guy who looks like kabocha: This one was the most interesting! It had a thick skin that made it difficult to tell if it was done. The skin is thick like a weathered dock with barnacles living on it. It was so sweet I could barely believe it was vegetal! And the flesh is extremely dense, smooth and dry. Parched, almost. The flesh is persimmon orange when baked, absolutely gorgeous.

The little flesh colored orb: Bright yellow-orange flesh. Mellow flavour, smooth flesh. Very middle-of-the-road, but in a good way.

The big daddy: Is still on my living room floor.

After hours of roasting, my little oven needed a rest.

Winter Squash can be kept, like onions, potatoes and garlic, in a cool, dark, dry place, for as long as a month, or more, depending on the weather inside their storage unit. They are picked, like their brethren, melons, when the curlicue stem attached to them, like an umbilical cord, dries up. And then they're moved to a storage facility where the skin/outer shell will continue to harden. The Squash's character changes the longer they're kept. Some say they get sweeter.

Annabelle, for all you Bay Area folks, will only be at the market until just before Christmas.

Comments

[Tana]

>The two corrugated conical pale pieces

Those are very likely to be Thelma Sanders Sweet Potato Pie squash. A farmer here in Santa Cruz county grew 80 (!) kind of squash and pumpkins and that was one of his favorites. When you cut open a Thelma Sanders squash, the cross-section is heart-shaped. How sweet is that?

The farmer, Steven Pedersen, sells at the Redman House farmstand, which is plainly visible from Highway 1 in Watsonville.

I so admire your skill in both cooking, language, and thoughtfulness.

Thank you.

[Julie]

Mmmm. How I love squash -- and your beautiful post, with all your squashy friends. For Thanksgiving, I'm making a creamy Delicata squash soup with no enhancement other than roasted shallots and parsley, no curry, no spices, since I want nothing to interfere with the sweet lusciousness of Delicata itself.

I'm still looking for Winter Luxury Pie Pumpkin here in the east, and hoping that I'll luck into some soon...

[Jessica]

Thank you for the mini-tutorial. I know a street stand for picking up squash and now I have a few good ideas!

[joanna]

I can't keep my hands off squash, lately. The produce market near my house stocks a huge variety, which I've been sampling all fall. My favorite has been Sweet Dumpling - but sometimes the exact same squash is labled "Carnival". Do you know if these are one in the same, or is my market mis-labeling it? The one I'm talking about is mainly golden yellow, with some dark green accents. The consistency is amazing, and I haven't gotten much more creative with it than a simple oven-roasting with a bit of butter, molasses (or honey or maple syrup), and a pinch of good salt and cinnamon. Sometimes (usually) less is more.

[Sara]

Ah, how funny. I just went on and on about the kind of winter squash I use over at my own NaBloPoMo-ing blog yesterday, and then I came over here and saw this. It really is the season.

I will be sending one of my commenters who lives in Berkeley over to see this, and then hopefully Annabelle at the farmer's market. Cheers!

[Ron Sullivan]

Oh my, this is fun. Sara sends me to the best places!

We had a vicarious squash adventure last year. A friend who'd just got a garden patch about the size of a dining table had thrown some squash guts onto it by way of instant compost. Suddenly next summer she had squash crowding her herbs, and she let it grow just to see what happened. She ended up with pear-shaped squash about six to ten inches long, with white skin and orange-yellow flesh. Lots of them. We took a few off her hands and baked them. They weren't exactly deep in flavor, but they worked just fine in curries. I suspect they were half-assed hybrids -- mongrels, I guess that would be -- and I wonder if they'd've improved either on the vine or in the pantry for a longer time.

They sure were pretty, though.

I'll go look up your friend Annabelle the minute I forgive the Ecology Center for throwing me away like a used Kleenex. At this point, alas, that farmers' market kinds kills my appetite. Does she sell somewhere else too?

[shuna fish lydon]

Hello Ron,

Annabelle only sells her produce at the saturday Berk. FM because she has a very small plot at Star Route. I imagine if you'd like to drive, she'll sell to you from Bolinas, if you give her a call first.

Remember that, no matter the faults of the organization that puts on these markets, it is the farmer's who benefit from our patronage.

Believe me when I say this, as I have known much of the dirt CUESA's hands have been filthy with over the years.

She won't be there for much longer, so I hope you can get hold of some of her produce.

Thanks so much for stopping by and commenting. Eggbeater loves new voices!

[Ron Sullivan]

Actually, Bolinas is handy to us in winter; we spend a lot of time birding on Point Reyes and Bolinas lagoon when the hawks and shorebirds and waterfowl have arrived. Maybe I will get in touch with her. Might be fun to write about some aspect of her work for the Chron.

That "kinds" up there should've been "kinda" of course. I expect I'll get over my snit eventually, though I hold a grudge like a true Mick. I still send people to the BFM; I just get the ughs when I get near it myself. Inconvenient, as I live within an easy walk.

Yeah: nonprofits, oy vey.