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Give squash a chance

Bad P.R. and lousy old cooking methods have slagged this excellent veggie

Squash and their pumpkin cousins have always presented a kind of paradox to me. On the one hand they’re so visually gorgeous and compelling, especially this time of year when the markets are full of them: the last of the delicate little summer squash with their translucent skins; crazy-looking crooknecks with their long skinny necks bending in loops and angles; weird warty ones; fat Mother Hubbards; lumpy turbans that look like they’re wrapped in cloth.

The anomaly is that they look so brilliant, but most of us have some kind of horror story about eating them – forcing down lumps of butternut or Hubbard that our moms dutifully baked in a glass Pyrex dish with a bit of water, and served with butter and salt and pepper. If you were lucky, she’d top it with brown sugar; if you weren’t, you’d have to make your way not only through the squash but a concoction of tuna and bread crumbs or hamburger and onion stuffed in the hollowed-out middle.

No wonder most of us never cook with the stuff.

Then there are a couple of other challenges: once your bring one home, what the heck do you do with it – other than stuff or bake it – especially if it’s a big one. And if you decide to use it in a stir-fry or some other recipe that calls for squash sans skin, you know what a drag it is to peel. My theory is that’s why people bake or roast it – it’s so much easier to scoop out the flesh and discard the peel later.

But if you take up the challenge give squash a chance, you’ll probably get addicted. I laughed at a big fancy wedding we were at once – the first tray of food to empty in the buffet-style service was a gorgeous sautéed squash dish with a glaze of soy sauce and ginger. Not even the prawns and baron of beef were as popular. Why?

I think there’s something so satisfying about squash that we all go nuts for it when it’s presented in a half-appetizing way.

Indigenous people in North America considered squash, beans and corn the "holy trinity". The First Nations had discovered over thousands of years of cultivation that these provided a stable pyramid that complemented each other nutritionally, and while growing in the field. The three crops were grown together, the bean plants twining up to the sun on the corn stalks, and the squash plants trailing along the ground as ground cover.

Never mind the great rich flavour you can coax out of squash – and I’m thinking of the deep yellow and orange varieties here – the acorns, the butternuts, even pumpkin. Their nutritional value alone make them all worthy dinner companions. (Pumpkin can be used in much the same way as orange/yellow squash, but just remember the flesh has a higher moisture content, so adjust your recipes accordingly.)

Dark orange/yellow veggies can be your best friends any time of year, but especially with the cold/flu season coming on. They’re loaded with nutrients and compounds that fight cancer, and they can help control your weight, too. Their high potassium content makes them good for the nerves when you’re stressed out. But their high carotene content is their real big health advantage. An average serving of pumpkin will give you your full daily requirement. A good chunk of butternut squash provides four times your recommended daily allowance. And you’re also getting vitamins C, E, B6, iron and magnesium.

If I’ve got you convinced and you’re heading out to buy a squash for dinner tonight, look for hard, heavy ones with no blemishes, especially no funky, soft spots where they’ve sat on the ground. Warty skin is fine, but not to be confused with damage. If the skin is intact and healthy, whole squash can be stored in a cool dark place for 2-3 months.

Here are two of my favourite recipes to try:

Anita’s penne with butternut squash

1 1/2 c. cubed, peeled butternut squash cut in 1/2-inch cubes (I like more squash, and have used anywhere up to 3 cups as long as it’s a firm yellow/orange squash — acorn squash works well, too)

3-4 tbsp good olive oil

1/4 c. finely diced onion

2 medium garlic cloves, chopped fine (I up the garlic, too)

1 dried red chili pepper

1 796 ml canned plum tomatoes, undrained, chopped coarse

2 (or more) tbsp golden raisins

1 (or more) tbsp capers

Salt and pepper to taste – we like about 3/4 tsp salt

4 c. penne

1/2 c. grated Parmesan (not out of a Kraft shaker) if you like

Cook the squash in a small saucepan of boiling salted water for 10-15 minutes or until tender. Drain. In a large saucepan, heat the oil. Add onion, garlic and chili pepper and sauté for about 3 min. or until the garlic turns pale gold. Add tomatoes, raisins, and capers. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 20-30 min. or until the sauce reduces by half and is thick. Add salt and pepper to taste. Remove from heat and add squash. In the meantime, cook the penne until tender but firm. Drain and return to the pot. Add sauce and stir over high heat to coat pasta with sauce. Serve with Parmesan if you like.

Spicy pumpkin bisque

(from The Whole Chile Pepper Book by Dave DeWitt and Nancy Gerlach)

1 1/2 tsp. diced ground small red chilies like piquins

1 large onion, chopped

2 garlic cloves, chopped

1 tbsp butter

1 16 oz. tin pumpkin puree

4 c. chicken stock

1/2 tsp. fresh ground black pepper

1/4 tsp. ground allspice

1/2 tsp. sugar

1 c. light cream

1/4 c. dry sherry

Grated nutmeg

Sauté the onion and garlic in butter until they’re transparent. Add pumpkin, stock, chili, pepper, allspice, sugar and sherry. Bring to a boil and cover. Simmer for 30 min. Place in a blender and puree until smooth. Return the soup to the pot, add the cream and simmer until heated. Garnish with nutmeg before serving. It’s good cold, too. If you don’t like so much cream you can use less and make up the liquid by using more stock and sherry. Whoopee.

Glenda Bartosh is an award-winning freelance writer who loves her squash squashed.