Butternut Squash Quotes

The only acceptable hobby, throughout all stages of life, is cookery. As a child: adorable baked items. Twenties: much appreciated spag bol and fry-ups. Thirties and forties: lovely stuff with butternut squash and chorizo from the Guardian food section. Fifties and sixties: beef wellington from the Sunday Telegraph magazine. Seventies and eighties: back to the adorable baked items. Perfect. The only teeny tiny downside of this hobby is that I HATE COOKING. Don't get me wrong; I absolutely adore the eating of the food. It's just the awful boring, frightening putting together of it that makes me want to shove my own fists in my mouth. It's a lovely idea: follow the recipe and you'll end up with something exactly like the pretty picture in the book, only even more delicious. But the reality's rather different. Within fifteen minutes of embarking on a dish I generally find myself in tears in the middle of what appears to be a bombsite, looking like a mentally unstable art teacher in a butter-splattered apron, wondering a) just how I am supposed to get hold of a thimble and a half of FairTrade hazelnut oil (why is there always the one impossible-to-find recipe ingredient? Sesame paste, anyone?) and b) just how I managed to get flour through two closed doors onto the living-room curtains, when I don't recall having used any flour and oh-this-is-terrible-let's-just-go-out-and-get-a-Wagamama's-and-to-hell-with-the-cost, dammit.

The burst of subconscious virtuousness that comes from first buying butternut squash makes it easier to put a pint of ice cream in the cart later.

Things I Used to Get Hit For: Talking back. Being smart. Acting stupid. Not listening. Not answering the first time. Not doing what I’m told. Not doing it the second time I’m told. Running, jumping, yelling, laughing, falling down, skipping stairs, lying in the snow, rolling in the grass, playing in the dirt, walking in mud, not wiping my feet, not taking my shoes off. Sliding down the banister, acting like a wild Indian in the hallway. Making a mess and leaving it. Pissing my pants, just a little. Peeing the bed, hardly at all. Sleeping with a butter knife under my pillow. Shitting the bed because I was sick and it just ran out of me, but still my fault because I’m old enough to know better. Saying shit instead of crap or poop or number two. Not knowing better. Knowing something and doing it wrong anyway. Lying. Not confessing the truth even when I don’t know it. Telling white lies, even little ones, because fibbing isn’t fooling and not the least bit funny. Laughing at anything that’s not funny, especially cripples and retards. Covering up my white lies with more lies, black lies. Not coming the exact second I’m called. Getting out of bed too early, sometimes before the birds, and turning on the TV, which is one reason the picture tube died. Wearing out the cheap plastic hole on the channel selector by turning it so fast it sounds like a machine gun. Playing flip-and-catch with the TV’s volume button then losing it down the hole next to the radiator pipe. Vomiting. Gagging like I’m going to vomit. Saying puke instead of vomit. Throwing up anyplace but in the toilet or in a designated throw-up bucket. Using scissors on my hair. Cutting Kelly’s doll’s hair really short. Pinching Kelly. Punching Kelly even though she kicked me first. Tickling her too hard. Taking food without asking. Eating sugar from the sugar bowl. Not sharing. Not remembering to say please and thank you. Mumbling like an idiot. Using the emergency flashlight to read a comic book in bed because batteries don’t grow on trees. Splashing in puddles, even the puddles I don’t see until it’s too late. Giving my mother’s good rhinestone earrings to the teacher for Valentine’s Day. Splashing in the bathtub and getting the floor wet. Using the good towels. Leaving the good towels on the floor, though sometimes they fall all by themselves. Eating crackers in bed. Staining my shirt, tearing the knee in my pants, ruining my good clothes. Not changing into old clothes that don’t fit the minute I get home. Wasting food. Not eating everything on my plate. Hiding lumpy mashed potatoes and butternut squash and rubbery string beans or any food I don’t like under the vinyl seat cushions Mom bought for the wooden kitchen chairs. Leaving the butter dish out in summer and ruining the tablecloth. Making bubbles in my milk. Using a straw like a pee shooter. Throwing tooth picks at my sister. Wasting toothpicks and glue making junky little things that no one wants. School papers. Notes from the teacher. Report cards. Whispering in church. Sleeping in church. Notes from the assistant principal. Being late for anything. Walking out of Woolworth’s eating a candy bar I didn’t pay for. Riding my bike in the street. Leaving my bike out in the rain. Getting my bike stolen while visiting Grandpa Rudy at the hospital because I didn’t put a lock on it. Not washing my feet. Spitting. Getting a nosebleed in church. Embarrassing my mother in any way, anywhere, anytime, especially in public. Being a jerk. Acting shy. Being impolite. Forgetting what good manners are for. Being alive in all the wrong places with all the wrong people at all the wrong times.

Aubade with Cutlery and Crickets" In the dinner I cook for myself tonight, you are an open drawer of cutlery. I've smelled the top notes of butter knives at your shoulder, the tang hidden in the blade of your walk. I need a serving spoon to scoop dal into a cool ceramic, a fork with tines long enough to pierce the skin of the butternut squash roasted in honeyjuice. Even your hands have become a kind of instrument— delicate enough to slide crabmeat out of the shell, sturdy enough to crack a breastbone if need be. Or maybe what I smelled that morning still full of starlight and crickets when we said goodbye— was the clean coolness of a knife's ricasso, the flat rest for a thumb just before the blade disappears into its handle.

Without being fully aware of what I was doing, I flipped the lights on in my kitchen and began to measure out chicken stock and arborio rice. The butternut squash in my pantry found itself quartered and set to roast in the oven. I plucked a few leaves of sage from my kitchen herb garden and minced them fine. Butter, shallots, rice, and herbs. Roasted squash and parmesan. The risotto took shape, its savory scent filling my apartment.

She could not tell Jenny that she stands and looks out the window of her kitchen in the morning and the tasks of the day unfurl themselves before her like a roll of celluloid and she thinks, Okay, tick spray and change of clothes and skating lesson and refill the toilet paper and need milk, onions, lemons and order more printer paper and get oil changed in car one and order food for the dog and wax bikini and make pasta with butternut squash and ricotta and wait do we have a fucking dog and get sixty-watt bulbs for the bar and restock Grey Goose and get clothes out of dryer and pluck single black hair from chin and clean car two before extended family comes and bring garbage bins inside and get new plunger and fuck my husband and walk the dog if we have one.

The pressure is on. They've teased me all week, because I've avoided anything that requires ordering. I've made excuses (I'm allergic to beef," "Nothing tastes better than bread," Ravioli is overrated"), but I can't avoid it forever.Monsieur Boutin is working the counter again. I grab a tray and take a deep breath. "Bonjour, uh...soup? Sopa? S'il vous plait?" "Hello" and "please." I've learned the polite words first, in hopes that the French will forgive me for butchering the remainder of their beautiful language. I point to the vat of orangey-red soup. Butternut squash, I think. The smell is extraordinary, like sage and autumn. It's early September, and the weather is still warm. When does fall come to Paris? "Ah! soupe.I mean,oui. Oui!" My cheeks burn. "And,um, the uh-chicken-salad-green-bean thingy?" Monsieur Boutin laughs. It's a jolly, bowl-full-of-jelly, Santa Claus laugh. "Chicken and haricots verts, oui. You know,you may speek Ingleesh to me. I understand eet vairy well." My blush deepends. Of course he'd speak English in an American school. And I've been living on stupid pears and baquettes for five days. He hands me a bowl of soup and a small plate of chicken salad, and my stomach rumbles at the sight of hot food. "Merci," I say. "De rien.You're welcome. And I 'ope you don't skeep meals to avoid me anymore!" He places his hand on his chest, as if brokenhearted. I smile and shake my head no. I can do this. I can do this. I can- "NOW THAT WASN'T SO TERRIBLE, WAS IT, ANNA?" St. Clair hollers from the other side of the cafeteria. I spin around and give him the finger down low, hoping Monsieur Boutin can't see. St. Clair responds by grinning and giving me the British version, the V-sign with his first two fingers. Monsieur Boutin tuts behind me with good nature. I pay for my meal and take the seat next to St. Clair. "Thanks. I forgot how to flip off the English. I'll use the correct hand gesture next time." "My pleasure. Always happy to educate." He's wearing the same clothing as yesterday, jeans and a ratty T-shirt with Napolean's silhouette on it.When I asked him about it,he said Napolean was his hero. "Not because he was a decent bloke, mind you.He was an arse. But he was a short arse,like meself." I wonder if he slept at Ellie's. That's probably why he hasn't changed his clothes. He rides the metro to her college every night, and they hang out there. Rashmi and Mer have been worked up, like maybe Ellie thinks she's too good for them now. "You know,Anna," Rashmi says, "most Parisians understand English. You don't have to be so shy." Yeah.Thanks for pointing that out now.

As soon as I was immersed in my work, cutting up the kabocha squash for the winter butternut squash soup, dicing the carrots to braise in orange juice, and starting another giant vat of chicken stock, I allowed the aromas and natural muscle rhythms of the kitchen to sweep me up in what I loved. I calmed down and experienced--- as corny as it might sound--- the joy of cooking. I was in love with food, obsessed with it. Food wasn't just fuel; it could heal a broken heart, it could entertain, it could bring you home. Magic happened when a perfectly balanced dish came together. A beautiful symphony of flavors. Salty, sweet, acidic, crunchy, colorful, soft, hard, warm, cold. It should take you on a journey. Once I had an Italian dish called Genovese, consisting of braised rabbit over thick noodles with a carrot and pea sauce. It was so beautiful, earthy, clever, and delicious, and it warmed you from the inside. It was what I liked to call a "circle of life plate.

RAMPICANTE (ITALIAN VINING ZUCCHINI) This is one of my all-time most-loved garden vegetables because it does double duty as both a summer zucchini and a winter butternut-type squash. This Italian heirloom is a vining summer squash rather than a bush plant. The fruit is long and trumpet-shaped, curls gently, and features medium to light-green striped skin. The flesh looks like other zucchini but tastes sweeter, another reason this squash should be more popular. All the seeds are contained in a small bulb at the end of the long fruit, so this zucchini is easy to use and does not need to be picked within days of appearing on the vine to be tender and tasty, as other summer squash does.

(1 = best, 11 = worst) 1. Raw fruits and vegetables (preferably organic) such as apples, grapes, melons, bananas, avocados, romaine lettuce, cucumbers, carrots, kale, tomatoes, etc.; raw honey, stevia (a natural sweetener) 2. Lightly-steamed, low-starch vegetables (all vegetables other than white potatoes, acorn and butternut squash, and pumpkin); pure maple syrup, agave nectar *Note that corn and legumes are starches, not vegetables. 3. Organic raw nuts and seeds (almonds, pine nuts, walnuts, macadamia nuts, sesame seeds, sunflower seeds, etc.) 4. Raw stone-pressed or cold-pressed plant oils (especially olive oil, though hemp seed and flax seed oils are also acceptable) 5. Cooked starchy vegetables (sweet potatoes, butternut and acorn squash, pumpkin, etc.) 6. Raw unpasteurized dairy products (particularly from goats and sheep) 7. Whole grains (brown rice, millet, whole wheat, buckwheat, etc.) 8. Pasteurized dairy and animal flesh (preferably limited to organic fish and minimal organic meat and poultry products) 9. All non-whole grain flour products (white bread, white rice, white pasta, white pizza dough, flour tortillas, etc.); sugar (white sugar, brown sugar, corn syrup, etc.) 10. Cooked animal fats/hydrogenated oils (lard, cooked oils, etc.), mainstream meats, poultry; soy products 11. Chemicals, artificial coloring and sweeteners (aspartame, saccharine, unnatural additives of all kinds)

Beef & Butternut Squash Stew 6 Servings   Ingredients: 2 tablespoons olive or vegetable oil 1 pound beef stew meat, cut into 1-inch cubes 1/4 cup of flour 3 carrots, chopped 1 onion, coarsely chopped 2 cloves garlic, minced 4 cups beef stock 1 (14.5-ounce) can whole tomatoes, crushed with your hands or a potato masher 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce (optional) 2 bay leaves 1 teaspoon dried thyme 1 small butternut squash, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes 1 cup frozen or canned peas 1 teaspoon salt and, plus extra 1/2 teaspoon pepper, plus extra   Directions: 1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. 2. Heat oil over medium-high heat in a Dutch oven, or large skillet. While the oil is heating, blot the beef cubes with a paper towel to remove the moisture (this will allow them to get nice and brown in the pan). Next, season the beef cubes with 1 teaspoon of salt, and 1/2 teaspoon of pepper. Toss the seasoned beef cubes with the flour, and then brown the beef in the hot oil. 3. Remove the browned beef from the pot with a slotted spoon, and set aside on a plate. In the same pot, cook the carrots, onion and garlic over medium heat until they have a little color (about 10 minutes,) 4. If you used a Dutch oven to brown the meat and vegetables, go ahead and return the beef to the Dutch oven and toss with the vegetables. If you browned the meat and vegetables skillet, transfer everything to an oven-proof pot or casserole dish. 5. Add the beef stock, crushed tomatoes, Worcestershire sauce, bay leaves and thyme to the pot. Cover tightly and put into the oven for 90 minutes. 6. Remove from the oven and add the butternut squash. You will want the meat and vegetables to be submerged in liquid, so add a little more water or stock to the pot if needed. Give everything a stir, and cover, this time leaving the lid slightly ajar so that the steam can escape. Return to the oven for another 60 minutes, or until beef and squash are tender. 7. Remove from the oven and stir the peas into the hot stew. Allow the stew to cool for about 15 minutes before serving. Add salt and pepper, to taste.

L'AMUSE-BOUCHE Chocolate Parmesan Tapioca with a Pan-Seared Scallop L'ENTREE Salad with Chèvre Chaud, Honey, and Mint Dressing OU Roasted Butternut Squash and Cacao Soup OU Oysters with a Mignonette Sauce LE PLAT PRINCIPAL Armagnac-and-Chocolate-Infused Daube de Bœuf à la Gascogne OU Sweet Potato Curry with Mussels OU Chocolate Pasta with a Gorgonzola Cheese Sauce LA SALADE ET LE FROMAGE Moules à la Plancha with Chorizo served over a bed of Arugula Selection of the Château's Cheeses LE DESSERT Mousse au Chocolat spiced with Pimento Chili Peppers and Chocolate Flakes, garnished with Mint I spun around on one heel, excited to get prepping. Unbeknownst to me, the rest of the kitchen staff had arrived, their jaws agape as they stared at the menu. As usual, Phillipa was the first to speak up. "That menu looks wicked incredible." "I don't know about adding hot peppers to the mousse au chocolat," said Jane, and the granny brigade nodded in agreement. I was so sick of her know-it-all attitude. I knew a thing or two and I was going to stand by my decision. "The combination has Aztec roots. To honor the fertility goddess they drank xocolāt, a chocolate concoction spiced with chili pepper and vanilla. It's delicious and unexpected." Jane rolled her eyes. "You're the chef." "I am," I said, wanting to challenge her. "And this is the menu.

L'AMUSE-BOUCHE Pan-Seared Scallops wrapped in Jambon Sec and Prunes with a Balsamic Glaze L'ENTRÉE Pan-Seared Foie Gras with a Spiced Citrus Purée, served with Candied Orange Peel and Fresh Greens OU Velouté of Butternut Squash with Truffle Oil LE PLAT PRINCIPAL Bœuf Bourguignon à la Maison served with a Terrine of Sarladaise Potatoes OU Canard à l'Orange served with a Terrine of Sarladaise Potatoes along with Braised Fennel, garnished with Pomegranate Seeds and Grilled Nuts OU Filet of Daurade (Sea Bream) served over a Sweet Potato Purée and Braised Cabbage LA SALADE ET LE FROMAGE Arugula and Endive Salad served with Rosemary-Encrusted Goat Cheese Toasts, garnished with Pomegranate and Clementine, along with a Citrus-Infused Dressing LE DESSERT Poached Pears in Spiced Red Wine with Vanilla Ice Cream

There was butternut squash soup from Providence, crispy rice and sour-pork salad from Lum Ka Naad, prawns with black vinegar dressing from Kato, Wagyu beef prepared by n/naka, crispy fried chicken from Dulan's, duck tartare from Animal, barrio tacos from Teddy's and miniconchas from La Favorita Bakery that were so small and delicate that it was hard to just eat one... or six.

Nina and Sophie were seated at a large round table settled under the branches of a blooming magnolia. The rich scent of the flowers mixed with the incredible food Jasmine and her team had whipped up had built an almost intoxicating aroma. They started off with sesame Halloumi and sweet potato tahini mash, followed by butternut squash and sage risotto, then there were hearty mushroom steaks with a side of roasted eggplant and miso salsa as their main. As they ate, she tasted the flavors from the earth, celebrating the gardens and passionate people around them. Her friend had harnessed the surroundings and created a rich culinary experience for the event.

Even then, eat only half of a medium potato or one small potato. Starches such as turnips, rutabaga, butternut and acorn squash, chestnuts, parsnips, carrots, peas, corn, and intact whole grains are better choices.

Butternut Breakfast Soup Serves: 6 4 cups frozen butternut squash 2 medium apples, peeled, seeded, and chopped 4 cups (packed) kale, tough stems and center ribs removed and leaves chopped, or frozen kale, chopped 1 cup chopped onion 2 tablespoons Pomegranate Balsamic Vinegar* or other fruit-flavored vinegar 5 cups carrot juice, fresh (5 pounds of carrots, juiced) or store-bought refrigerated ½ cup unsweetened soy, almond, or hemp milk ½ cup raw cashews ¼ cup hemp seeds 1 teaspoon cinnamon ½ teaspoon nutmeg Place squash, apples, kale, onion, vinegar, and carrot juice in a soup pot. Bring to a boil, lower heat, cover, and simmer for 30 minutes or until kale is tender. Purée half of the soup with the nondairy milk, cashews, and hemp seeds in a high-powered blender. Return blended mixture to soup pot. Add cinnamon and nutmeg. PER SERVING: CALORIES 314; PROTEIN 9g; CARBOHYDRATE 58g; TOTAL FAT 8.3g; SATURATED FAT 1.3g; SODIUM 167mg; FIBER 9.7g; BETA-CAROTENE 28,816mcg; VITAMIN C 106mg; CALCIUM 267mg; IRON 4.3mg; FOLATE 70mcg; MAGNESIUM 159mg; ZINC 1.9mg; SELENIUM 8.4mcg

At least 90 percent of your diet should be from whole plant foods such as the following: Green vegetables—including kale, Swiss chard, broccoli, artichokes, string beans, asparagus, spinach, cabbage, lettuce, snow peas, and peas Yellow/orange vegetables—including carrots, butternut squash, winter squash, spaghetti squash, sweet potato, and corn Beans/legumes—including chickpeas, red kidney beans, lentils, and adzuki beans Fresh fruits—including blueberries, strawberries, kiwis, apples, oranges, grapes, pears, watermelon, and pomegranates (Eat dried fruits, including raisins and dates, only in small amounts.) Nonstarchy vegetables—including eggplant, mushrooms, peppers, tomatoes, and onions

This is grown-up mac and cheese that you could easily serve to company. Of course, it’s wonderful that butternut squash is packed with beta-carotene, but it’s also a pretty amazing substitute for lots of cream and cheese when making mac and cheese. I personally love a little bit of Gorgonzola Dolce (a mild, slightly sweet Italian blue cheese) here, but a sharp cheddar or smoked Gouda would also be great. 5 ounces frozen diced butternut squash ¼ cup low-sodium vegetable stock Pinch salt Pinch nutmeg Pinch cayenne pepper Pinch freshly ground black pepper 8 ounces prepared, packaged gnocchi 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 garlic clove, minced 2 fresh sage leaves 1 ounce Gorgonzola Dolce or other mild blue cheese 1 tablespoon heavy cream (optional) 1.In a saucepan, bring the butternut squash and vegetable stock to a boil. Cover, and reduce the heat to medium-low. Simmer for 10 minutes, or until the squash is very tender. 2.Transfer the squash and vegetable stock to a blender. Add the salt, nutmeg, cayenne, and black pepper, and blend on low speed until it’s completely smooth. (Make sure your blender is no more than half full or the hot liquid may erupt through the lid.) 3.Taste and add additional salt if needed. Set the squash aside. 4.Using the same saucepan, cook the

Eating lots of greens makes it difficult to overconsume high-starch vegetables. You just won’t have room for that much. Examples of starchy vegetables include corn, sweet potatoes, white potatoes, butternut squash, acorn squash, winter squash, chestnuts, parsnips, rutabagas, turnips, water chestnuts, yams, and pumpkins. Grains include barley, buckwheat (kasha), millet, oats, quinoa, brown rice, and wild rice. On some days, you may choose to have a cup of oatmeal or other whole grain at breakfast. On other days, save your serving of starch for dinner.

swallowing a spoonful of butternut squash soup, feeling it coat my throat and slide down to my belly.

I hacked an old Crock-Pot and turned it into a sous vide machine, and did a turkey breast, and then seared the skin on the stovetop, so it is totally crispy, but the meat is BEYOND juicy. And the stuffing is a combination of homemade corn bread, homemade buttermilk biscuits, and brioche, with sage and thyme and celery and onion and shallot. And I tried the Robuchon Pommes Puree, and thought that there was no way to put THAT much butter into that much potato, but holy moley is it amazeballs! And I did a butternut squash soup with fried ginger and almond cake with apple compote." All the bustle has roused Volnay, who wanders over to greet Benji, and receives a dog biscuit for her trouble from Eloise. "Honey, breathe a little," I say, laughing. "It's just... I... I mean... THANKSGIVING!" he says, which cracks us all up.

Because you were wearing a badge, customers assumed you were an oracle. 'What aisle is the desiccated coconut' 'How long do you cook a butternut squash?' 'What would you have with a pan fried red mullet?' 'Where can I find the holy grail?' Enough already! Some people obviously misread the 'Here to help' as 'Hello I'm your bitch!

I tried to read the menu, but I kept getting distracted. The aromas from the kitchen filled the room- melting butter, grilling meat, soft and sharp spices. All of them better than any of the restaurant smells I'd had to pass by during my time in the city. My mouth was watering, and my nose was so focused that I could barely skim the first few items. Sablefish with miso glaze Duck, dry-aged and served with pureed butternut squash Wagyu New York strip I had no idea what these things were, except for duck, which I couldn't help but feel sorry for. Dry-aged sounded like an especially bad death for a waterfowl. The waiter returned. "Shall I order for us?" Victoria asked. I nodded, grateful. "Anything you don't eat? Allergies?" I shook my head. Nobody had ever asked me that before. On the island, I'd eaten what I gathered. At the cove, I ate what came to the table. Now I'd eat anything that didn't involve the jar in my backpack. "We'll start with the clam chowder," Victoria said. "We can order more later." The waiter nodded respectfully and disappeared again. "They make it with fresh clams," she told me. "It's exceptional." A young woman with a fancy braid in her hair brought us a basket of French bread, still warm from the oven. I watched as Victoria spread one slice with butter that melted as she applied it, releasing the faintest scent of flowers. "Here," she said, handing it to me. The crust gave way under my teeth with a delicate crunch, the butter soft on my tongue. It tasted even better than it smelled. After almost two weeks of hard mattresses and strangers and failure, I wanted to crawl inside the comfort of this bread and stay there forever.

Kenny. You've got the Moroccan carrot salad done, but where are we with the brussels sprouts?" "Everything is prepped. We just need the sprouts." "Good. Go ahead and start caramelizing the onions for the goat-cheese toasts, and then get the bacon going---just be sure to undercook the bacon. It'll cook the rest of the way in the oven." "Yes, chef." "Clementine, can you take over the grilled crudités? We need to get them chilled by five." She nodded. "Yes, chef." "Excellent. I'll start prepping the butternut-squash fritters," I said, rolling up my sleeves. "And then the mozzarella poppers. Let's get to work." I was elbows deep in fried mozzarella and crispy-edged butternut-squash fritters when my brother and boyfriend finally arrived, wet and bedraggled, at the kitchen door. "I have dates," Nico said, holding the crate aloft. "Dates and brussels sprouts." "It's about time," I shot back. "You've been single far too long." "I'm going to get cleaned up," he said, "and then I can relieve you." "Take your time," I replied honestly. "I've got everything under control." And I did. The fritters were done and in the warming oven with a cake pan full of water in the rack below to keep them from drying out. I'd made up the mozzarella poppers by breading the rounds of buffalo-milk mozzarella with batter and panko crumbs before deep-frying them in batches. It had felt good to work with my hands again, good to do something other than managerial work. I cast a longing eye at Clementine's pavlovas, the baked egg whites topped with quartered figs. There was something soothing about working with egg whites, the frothy pure-white shade they became when whisked.

If the dining-room tables hadn't been so stable, they would have sagged from the weight of the food. There were antipasti platters, a butternut-squash strata with sage, and a casserole dish of baked ziti. On the sweet side there were pear tartlets, an apple cake, fresh figs with mascarpone and honey. At the end waited a towering croquembouche---a pyramid of cream-filled choux puffs encased in a glamorous tangle of spun sugar.

Have you eaten butternut squash? It tastes like a depressed potato.

Pumpkin SIDEKICKS: carrots, butternut squash, sweet potatoes, orange bell peppers TRY TO EAT: ½ cup most days

Lisette set out browned chicken, warm butternut squash salad, blue potatoes, and blackberry bread with a crust of sugar that looked like ice crystals.

butternut squash soup Serves 2 Prep Time: 15 minutes Cook Time: 30 minutes Total Time: 45 minutes 3 tablespoons clarified butter, ghee, or coconut oil ½ cup diced onion 3 cups diced seeded peeled butternut squash 2 cloves garlic, minced ½ teaspoon ground ginger 4 cups chicken broth 1 teaspoon salt ½ teaspoon black pepper Not sure how much squash to buy for this recipe? Generally, a 2-pound butternut squash yields 3 cups once the seeds are removed, but don’t stress about having slightly more or less squash than the recipe calls for—this one is pretty forgiving. You can also buy pre-cut butternut squash and save yourself the guess work and 10 minutes of prep time, but that’ll definitely add to your grocery bill. In a large pot, melt the cooking fat over medium heat, swirling to coat the bottom of the pot. When the fat is hot, add the onion and cook, stirring, until translucent, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the squash, garlic, and ginger and stir until the garlic becomes aromatic, about 1 minute. Add the chicken broth and bring to a boil over high heat. Boil until the butternut squash is soft, about 10 minutes. Remove the pot from the heat. In one or two batches, transfer the soup to a food processor or blender and blend on high speed until smooth in texture. Return the pureed soup to the pot. Heat the soup over medium-high heat until it thickens enough to coat the back of a wooden spoon, 7 to 10 minutes. Season with the salt and pepper. Make It a Meal: To make this a complete meal, add cooked chicken, scallops, or hard-boiled eggs when returning the soup to the pot for the last 7 to 10 minutes of cooking. For extra greens, add two generous handfuls of spinach or kale in the last 3 minutes of cooking. ✪Prepping Squash Peeling and dicing squash isn’t that tough if you have the right

I guide Delia through the slaw: green cabbage with fennel and green apple and a light dressing of rice wine vinegar, sugar, lime juice, canola oil, and caraway seeds. Kai makes the butternut squash with applesauce, nutmeg, grains of paradise, and cinnamon. I work on a light pasta salad that I have been playing with, orecchiette pasta with white beans, chopped celery, green peas, and feta in red wine vinaigrette with fresh oregano. The case gets filled, Kai takes off, the doors get opened, and we begin to serve customers. While Delia takes a phone order, I head into the kitchen and take the brisket out of the oven. It is mahogany brown and juicy, and perfumes the kitchen immediately, the scent wafting out into the store. "What is that smell?" Delia says, eyes closing, inhaling deeply. "That, is hope," I say.

We've been knocking out the basics all morning.... Asian chicken salad, fruit medley with mint, wheat berry pilaf with dried cherries and almonds. Kai roasted six chickens and a turkey breast, and grilled a whole flank steak, which he sliced thin across the grain. We have green beans in a spicy garlic marinade, braised black kale with smoked turkey, and roasted brussels sprouts. Our signature Morning Energy muffins, bursting with golden raisins and walnuts, sunflower seeds, millet, flax, and sweet with honey are cooling on a rack. We have thawed today's soup specials, which we cook over the weekends and freeze for the week, a golden butternut squash, smooth as velvet, and a chunky pasta fagioli, with whole wheat pasta, white beans, and loads of veggies.

Kale Kohlrabi Leeks Lettuce Mushrooms Mustard greens Onions Parsley Pumpkin Radicchio Radishes Shallots Spinach Squash (acorn, butternut, spaghetti, summer, winter) Swiss chard Tomatoes Turnips Turnip greens Watercress Zucchini

I take out Chloe's dinner: veal mousse with shiitake puree, creamed spinach, and, in order to balance the colors and textures, souffléd butternut squash. All homemade, frozen in the tiny compartments of blue plastic ice cube trays. Before Chloe was born, Jake and I agreed our child would have a sophisticated palate. No Happy Meals, no macaroni and cheese, and- God forbid- chicken fingers.

Roasted Vegetable Hash with Fried Egg 1 carrot, peeled 1 parsnip, peeled 6 mushrooms ½ onion, peeled 1 zucchini 1 yellow squash 1 butternut squash 1 sweet potato, peeled 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil 1 teaspoon ground cumin 1 teaspoon paprika 2 tablespoons minced garlic 1 whole egg 2 egg whites Preheat the oven to 425 ° F. Cut all of the vegetables into bite-size pieces and mix with the olive oil, cumin, paprika, and garlic in a medium bowl. Spread the vegetables on a baking sheet and bake for 20 minutes. Remove from the oven. Fry 1 whole egg and 2 egg whites for each serving that you scoop from the batch of hash, and use as a topping.

Honey Roasted Butternut Squash 1 pound butternut squash, peeled and cubed 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil 1 ½ tablespoons honey Pinch of salt and pepper 1 handful of chopped pecans Preheat the oven to 400 ° F. Toss the squash, olive oil, honey, salt, and pepper in a medium bowl. Spread the squash evenly on a baking sheet sprayed with cooking spray. Bake for 35 to 45 minutes, until the squash is soft and browned. Top with chopped pecans.