French impressionist, Henri Matisse (1869-1984) painted an oil of a squash, titled, “The Green Pumpkin.”
It’s the season for winter squash and I saw this pretty
acorn squash at Trader Joe’s, for 99 cents.
I hadn’t thought about acorn squash for years, much less
cooked it.
A “winter” squash (a
pumpkin is one) has a tough skin, as opposed to a “summer” squash such as zucchini
with its soft skin.
Peruvian mummies, more than 7,000 years old, were found
interred with the squash shell, flesh and seeds still intact.
Squash (cucurbitas) was eaten in ancient Rome.
I have an English translation of what is purported to be the first
(hand-written) manuscript of collected recipes, by Apicius—De Re Coquinaria
(On Cooking)-- the fanatic foodie who when he could no longer entertain
lavish feasts of flamingo’s tongues, lobster, wild boar, snails and
hare—poisoned himself.
In 1 AD, the Romans boiled the squash, squeezed it to remove
the liquid, added pepper, cumin and a now extinct herb, silphium. Butter was unknown to the ancient Greeks and
Romans.
Dashing down millennia, Columbus,
in the account of his first voyage, wrote about a village in Cuba
where vast fields were planted with calabazzas, meaning gourds, but it
is practically certain they were squashes.
In the United States
squash was a staple (along with corn and beans) of Native Americans.
For one acorn squash (serves 2)
2 tablespoons
butter
pinch (1/8
teaspoon) cinnamon
- Wash the skin. Slice in half, lengthwise. Scoop out the seeds.
- Put a tablespoon of butter and a pinch (1/8 teaspoon) of cinnamon in the squash’s cavity.
- Wrap each half in foil, and bake in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes to an hour or until the flesh is tender. The butter and cinnamon moisten and perfume. Salt at the table, if you want.
Goes with fish, fowl and meat.
A most beautiful squash is the Turban. The check-out clerk in the market asked if I
were going to cook it or use it for decoration.
I don’t know, I told her. So far, I haven’t tried it.
