A Story of Squash

The other morning before work, I had one of those moments of zen kitchen perfection to which I constantly aspire. I was inspired by an acorn squash and an unopened bottle of agave nectar on the shelf. Three hours later (most of it baking time) I tasted the fruits of my labor while frantically packing up to get out the door.

Reader, it was amazing; peppery and mellow, sweet and meaty like you can't imagine, with the most delicious caramelized edges everywhere. I was torn. How could I let such an invention go unshared? But who could taste my genius? How would anyone know? And what if I couldn't repeat it? All of my room mates were still asleep. Though I'd only baked half a squash, thinking to take all of it in my lunch, I swiftly dumped half into a bowl and set it on the counter with a sign atop: Eat Me. (anyone.) And then I rushed off to work.

The squash was gone when I returned home, but no one mentioned anything. I waited. A day passed, and still, patiently, I waited. And then the moment came: "I ate your pumpkin things," a housguest said, looking away and blushing. "All of them."

Score.

p.s. This is going to be one of those infuriating recipes where everything is to taste.



Acorn Squash With Agave Nectar and Thyme

acorn squash
agave nectar
kosher or sea salt
freshly ground black pepper
dried rosemary and thyme, not powdered
olive oil (break out the good stuff for best results)

1) Preheat oven to 375, and then clean your acorn squash and remove the seeds. Chop it/them into approximately bite sized chunks, an inch or two on each side at most. Smaller may be better.

2) Place squash in an appropriate sized mixing bowl that has a lid. Make sure you'll have room to toss so that the pieces get well coated.

3) Add the salt, pepper, and herbs, pulverizing the rosemary and thyme by rubbing them back and forth between your hands and letting them drop into the bowl. Be liberal with all four ingredients, and use about twice as much thyme as rosemary.

4) Add the olive oil and agave nectar. You want everything very generously coated, but not swimming. Put the lid on and shake it up. Tinker with the ingredients and re-shake till it looks good.

5) Dump the mixture into a baking pan of some kind, perhaps lined with foil if you need to save time on cleanup, and shove said pan in the oven. Make sure there's plenty of space between the pieces. If you need to put it in several pans to make this work, you have my word it will be worth it.

6) Wait. Perfection takes time. When it smells so delicious you have to check on it (maybe an hour to an hour and a half?) look in, and make sure they've got plenty of space to breathe. If you must tinker, you can turn them over, but mostly--wait. You want it to be shy of burning when you pull them out, but only just.