Don’t limit yourself this winter, to just a pumpkin pie and a half an acorn squashed baked with brown sugar and butter, explore the texture and taste of squash.

Winter is the time of creative squash cookery among the many other joys: long cooking stews, baking, plotting the spring garden, tending the winter garden, etc. There’s also a little bit of hibernation, true. But I look forward to the rich flavors of winter squash because they present the most challenging and most colorful of winter meals.

You’ve seen it before, the wrinkled nose at the mention of the word squash. The word itself isn’t very appetizing, no wonder it’s so maligned. When you look at a typical winter meal, it’s potatoes and meat with some frozen veggie. Ignore the wrinkled noses, get a squash, learn to work with and “cater” to… literally the bias. Fill the table with surprises.

Acorn squash comes to mind first when people think of winter squash. We see the pile of squash at the grocery store and go immediately to the most likely and easily identifiable “thing” which appears black and foreboding but at least somewhat familiar. That Acorn, when cracked open is a delightful rich amber coloured yellow inside, much like the quality of light in the late day of our Northwest autumnal evening sun.

Yes, we have sun. Shush.

What the acorn squash reveals is only the start of a journey into the richness of the winter table. I found a great recipe for corn soup on 101 Cookbooks and made a comment there about the varieties of squashes that you can substitute for acorn squash:

I can think of some other great squashes to use that aren’t so tippy as Acorn squashes. Small pumpkins hollowed out are great soup bowls. Any “cup” type squash is perfect for this: ambercup, sweet dumpling, hokkaido, red kuri, buttercup, gold nugget, and carnival, to name a few of my faves, would work great with this recipe. One could use a small kabocha like a red kuri. Any of these are gorgeous for presentation sake, and much prettier than an acorn squash (though no more delicious).

Winter squash are my absolute favorite kind of squash! You can use them in every course from appetizer to dessert.

Here’s a handy reference for how much squash, the varieties, and pictures to refer to when you go tackle the scary mound of squash at the grocery store.

One in particular seems to be the most difficult for the American palate to get their tongue around. The humble Kabocha (which means squash in Japanese) is not just difficult to figure out but hard to crack. I use a hammer and wedge. No, really. It’s hard. I’ve seen some people describe opening it by throwing it against a wall. I’d rather not put a hole in my wall, thankyouverymuch. I also prefer not to haul out the sledge hammer, but these are hefty suckers and require a little work to get into. When I was working at Whistling Train Farm in Kent, a CSA that runs year round, I was first introduced to the squash varieties and had no idea what to do with a Kabocha. Customers asked so it was my responsibility to get some answers.

One Japanese customer came to my rescue. A pastry chef, specifically catering to the Northwest’s rich Asian culture, she described for me how to crack a kabocha to start. Which, ten years ago, was not readily available information on the net and invaluable information. The customer also told me how she makes the inside squash flesh into sweets. Sweets? Well, remember the traditionally American palate is different culturally in its expectation of sweet. Kabocha can be used similarly to pumpkin. You can make pie, soup, and candy the seeds.

Wait! Candied squash seeds?

The candied pumpkin/squash seeds are nummy. First, the seeds are lightly toasted in butter. Then take them out and coat with sugar, paprika, toasted cumin, cayenne, kosher salt and a touch of honey (warmed). They have a great balance of sugar, salt and spice.

The kabocha, in its entirety, is edible. It’s close to a butternut in texture and color. As long as you give it a good scrub, slice off any “barnacles”, and remove the stem, the entire squash is edible. In fact, the skin is delicious when you cook it in a ginger water with a little brown sugar.

The winter garden yields me many a squash, kept under cloches, they continue to grow once their fruits are set. Slowly, yes but still, they grow. They also are amazing keepers in the root cellar. Buy a bunch, keep them cool, ventilated, covered and away from pests and they’ll keep for some time to draw from all winter long.

It’s getting chilly here in the Northwest. I stand on my back porch, looking at the garden and plotting. A gardener never stops planning. As the night’s grow colder and we gardeners stare at the thermometer and wonder when to start covering the crops for longer harvest. We are scurrying to get the last of the delicate harvest processed, the winter greens planted and under cover.

Spinach, mâche, cress and the like can all thrive under the cover of a few hoop houses. Other crops such as beets, kale, carrots, brussel sprouts, onions and garlic can be left out in the snow to get a crisp sweetness from the frost. This year, our plan is to do a double job of the “hoophouse” protection by making a large hoophouse to cover the boxes wile covering the boxes individually as we did last year. This double layered protection also keeps the cats out of the boxes and the ground warm. Still, there will need to be a rest period and sections that will be planted with a cover crop. That cover crop will be harvested and fed to the bunny (doesn’t everyone have one?) and then… well, you get the picture. The cycle continues for every smart urban gardener.

Keeping motivated for the project is the biggest problem since it’s just me with grand designs. Sam (my 24 year old son) has gone back to work, still investigating school, and Thom (my patient and brilliant husband) is gone almost all day. That leaves me and my computer and a new book that is inspiring me for the long haul through winter gardening. The Winter Harvest Handbook by Eliot Coleman has given me a way to solve the winter harvest dilemma.

My first thought had been to simply cover the boxes again. However, often that is only enough in the winter time to make the crops that I have already planted stay put and not turn into brown brittle nothings. No, if we want fresh spinach for Thanksgiving and Christmas then we must have a plan. Ambitious, yes. Impossible, no.

I currently have my 4×4 square raised beds set up for hoop houses. This year, I was able to get earlier production on my spring greens that way. The book states that Coleman, in Maine, can grow crops over the winter that will not go dormant. He uses a double layer method for keeping the crops warm. Inside covers with an outside hoop house. How simple is that? Isn’t that what we do with our clothes in the winter? Layering?

To get this garden party started, we’ll need a roll of greenhouse film that will go over an arc, the base of which is six to eight feet. That means, if I want it at least five feet high, it will be more elliptical in shape than a traditional half circle. The half circle length will be at least 12.5 feet. A roll of durafilm 14′ x 100′ will cost about $170 plus shipping. Using a PVC and wood frame which will cost another $50, plus the straw for the ground cover which is about $8 per bale. For that minimum price, you can make a temporary greenhouse that can be taken down in the summer but replaced year after year for the winter.

So, now to begin life as a small time Maraîcher!

This simple video has inspired me to take up the challenge and be part of the “Pinch My Salt” Cooking Club aka the BBA Challenge (Bread Baker’s Apprentice). I hope to post my first challenges in a few days as soon as the book arrives!

This video is not only scientifically fascinating but to me it is a spiritual journey as Peter Reinhart, who is a also known as Brother Peter Reinhart, draws parallels on the transformation of wheat to bread in a way that touched me spiritually as well as intellectually. He’s a tricky guy that Peter Reinhart!