Weekend Gathering No. 14
The Weekend the Air Turned
The Jersey Nonna
Preamble
This time of year, pumpkins are everywhere. Farm stands have them piled high. Fields are still dotted with them, waiting to be picked. And the supermarkets around me have gotten in on it too, lining them up on stands positioned right at the entrance so you practically trip over them walking in. There’s no missing them.
It’s those supermarket pumpkins that make me pause every time.
Sure, it’s quick. Grab one on your way to the checkout, toss it in the cart, done. But where’s the fun in that? Where are the memories? Where’s the time actually spent with the people you love?
It’s a little like fast food. It does what it’s supposed to do, but it can’t hold a candle to something you actually took the time to prepare, to sit with, to savor.
So no, you won’t find me grabbing a pumpkin off a supermarket pallet. Give me the patch, every single time.
Farm Stand Report
And that’s exactly where I was this week.
The stand’s deep into pumpkin season now, kabocha, acorn, butternut, delicata, sweet dumpling, all of it piled up wherever it fits, not lined up in neat little rows like the supermarket does it. Half of them still have dirt on the bottom from sitting in the field. Honestly, I kind of love that. It looks like what it is.
The pie pumpkins are out too, the small lumpy ones, and I always get a kick out of watching people walk right past them heading for the big picture-perfect ones for carving. Those little ugly ones are the ones you actually want if you’re cooking.
And that’s the thing about the stand, you go for one pumpkin and twenty minutes later you’re still there. You end up chatting with whoever’s working it, or the person next to you picking through the same pile, and somehow you just don’t rush it.
Some years, not every year, but some, I’d plant a small garden with my children, too. Not because we needed the produce, but because I wanted them to see how things grow, what it takes to tend something. Weeding, of course, was always a “me” job no matter how many times I explained why it mattered.
One year we planted pumpkin seedlings. Just a few, nothing ambitious. And boy, did they grow, vines creeping across the ground, yellow blossoms opening up, and then actual pumpkins right there in our own yard. They grew so well, in fact, that someone at the town newspaper got wind of it, I’ve always had my suspicions it was our “grandfather” neighbor across the street who tipped them off, and a photographer came out to take a picture of my son with his prized pumpkin. I still have that photo. Such an ordinary little moment, permanently filed away in the town paper’s archives. Nothing dramatic about it at all. Just a small, good memory that still makes me smile. I’m smiling right now, writing this.
Weekend Menu
Friday
Roasted Kabocha & Goat Cheese Crostini with Honey-Thyme Drizzle
Saturday
Creamy Delicata Squash & Sage Soup with Crispy Pancetta and Toasted Pepitas
Butternut Squash & Sharp Cheddar Galette with Rosemary Crust
Sunday
Stuffed Acorn Squash with Sweet Italian Sausage, Apples & Cranberries (Featured Recipe)
Sweet Dumpling Squash & Brown Butter Gnocchi with Crispy Sage
Pumpkin & Amaretto Bread Pudding with Spiced Cream
Featured Recipe: Stuffed Acorn Squash with Sweet Italian Sausage, Apples & Cranberries
The kind of dish that makes the whole kitchen smell like fall before it even hits the table, sweet and savory, and pretty enough to be the centerpiece all on its own.
Serves 4-8 (one half or two, depending on appetite)
Ingredients
4 acorn squash, halved and seeded
2 tbsp olive oil, divided
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 lb sweet Italian sausage, casings removed
1 small yellow onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 Honeycrisp or Gala apples, diced
½ cup dried cranberries
½ cup panko breadcrumbs
¼ cup grated Parmesan
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves (or ½ tsp dried)
¼ cup chicken broth
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish
Directions
Preheat oven to 400°F. Halve and seed the squash, brush the cut sides with 1 tbsp olive oil, season with salt and pepper, and place cut-side down on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Roast 35-40 minutes until fork-tender.
Meanwhile, heat the remaining olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the sausage, breaking it up as it browns, about 6-8 minutes. Add the onion and cook until softened, 4-5 minutes, then stir in the garlic for one more minute.
Add the apples and cranberries to the skillet and cook 3-4 minutes, just until the apples start to soften. Stir in the breadcrumbs, Parmesan, thyme, and chicken broth until it holds together loosely.
Flip the roasted squash halves cut-side up and mound the filling generously into each cavity, packing it in gently.
Return to the oven and bake 10-15 minutes more, until the filling is golden and heated through.
Garnish with fresh parsley before serving.
Nonna’s Note: This is one of those dishes that looks like you fussed over it, but the filling can be made a full day ahead and just spooned in before the second bake. A drizzle of warm maple syrup over the top at the table isn’t traditional, but nobody’s ever complained about it.
Shoppable List
Kabocha squash
Delicata squash
Butternut squash
Sweet dumpling squash
Acorn squash (4)
Pumpkin puree
Baguette
Goat cheese
Honey
Fresh thyme
Fresh sage
Fresh rosemary
Fresh parsley
Pancetta
Sharp cheddar cheese
Pie dough (or flour, butter, ice water)
Potato gnocchi
Unsalted butter
Parmesan cheese
Yellow onions
Garlic
Honeycrisp or Gala apples
Dried cranberries
Panko breadcrumbs
Sweet Italian sausage
Chicken or vegetable broth
Heavy cream
Milk
Eggs
Day-old brioche or challah bread
Amaretto liqueur
Cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves
Vanilla extract
Pepitas (pumpkin seeds)
Sugar
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
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Nonna’s Notebook
There was a method to it, believe me. Every fall we’d head out to the local farm, and my children and I would scour that pumpkin patch like we were on a mission, bending down, turning pumpkins this way and that, examining shapes from every angle. We weren’t looking for just any pumpkin. We were looking for Bert and Ernie. Oval and tall, short and round, my children grew up on Sesame Street, so of course that’s what we hunted for. Once we’d found our pair, each of them would pick out their own small pumpkin too, whichever one suited their fancy that year.
I honestly don’t remember Bert and Ernie ever getting carved. I think we always bought a separate traditional pumpkin for that, the classic jack-o’-lantern with the smiling, zig-zag grin that was somehow both cheerful and a little creepy at the same time. And no trip to the patch was complete without the hayride, finished off with a cup of cider and an apple cider donut. Every single time.
Around the House
This time of year always gets me thinking about organization. While I’m switching over my summer clothes for fall, I usually end up in the pantry too, pulling out anything expired and rotating what’s left so the oldest stuff is up front where I’ll actually grab it first.
While I was in there this week, I got to looking at all those dates stamped on everything, and honestly, I never really knew what they meant. There’s actually a difference.
A “Best Used By” date isn’t about safety. It’s just the company’s guess at when something tastes its best. If the package is sealed and nothing looks or smells off, you’re fine eating it past that date.
An “Expiration” or “Use By” date is a bit different, but even then, for most shelf-stable stuff it’s still mostly about quality, not danger. The real exception is anything perishable, your dairy, meat, deli items, and things like infant formula. Those you do want to toss once you’re past the date.
Now spices, that’s where it got interesting. Ground spices and dried herbs don’t really expire the way we think. They won’t make you sick. What actually happens is the oils that give them their flavor slowly fade, so they just get weaker over time until they’re not doing much for your cooking anymore.
Just to give you a sense of timing, ground spices like cinnamon and cumin are good for 2 to 3 years, dried herbs like oregano and basil for 1 to 3, and whole spices like peppercorns and nutmeg can go 3 to 4. Salt and pure vanilla extract basically last forever if you keep them stored right.
If you’re not sure about something, do the sniff test. Rub a little in your palm to wake it up, then smell it. Barely anything there? It’s not going to do much for your dish, so it’s probably time to let it go. The one real thing to watch for is moisture, if the powder’s clumped or hardened, water got in somewhere, and that one you do want to toss.
Anyway, that’s where I’ve been this week, half organizing my closet, half reorganizing my spice cabinet.
Rotating Feature: The Spice That Isn’t Actually Pumpkin
Here’s one that trips people up every year: pumpkin spice doesn’t actually have any pumpkin in it.
What you’re tasting is cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, allspice, and cloves. Those are the same spices that have always gone into a good pumpkin pie.
The pie has the pumpkin. The spice mix just took its name.
That blend goes back further than you’d think. An 1896 cookbook called American Cookery had one of the country’s earliest pumpkin pie recipes, spiced with nutmeg, allspice, and ginger.
It wasn’t until the 1930s that a spice company started selling it pre-mixed, so home bakers didn’t have to measure out five different jars every time they wanted a pie.
Then Starbucks came along in 2003 with the Pumpkin Spice Latte, and that’s really what sent it everywhere: coffee, candles, lip balm, you name it. All of it built on a spice blend that’s never had a bit of actual pumpkin in it.
Kind of makes you want to bring it up next time someone’s on their third PSL of the week.
Worth Knowing
Here’s the thing about pumpkins nobody tells you, they don’t last on their own, you’ve gotta baby them a little. Give it a quick bath first: a tablespoon of bleach to a gallon of water, wipe it down or dunk it for a few minutes, that kills off the mold and bacteria sitting on the skin. Dry it completely, don’t skip that part.
Find it a shaded spot, under a porch roof or overhang, not out in the sun. Direct sun cooks the skin soft, and if rain’s pooling underneath, that’s mold waiting to happen. And don’t just set it on the ground, a wood block, a straw bale, even an old mat will do. Keeps air moving underneath so it’s not sitting in its own dampness.
Last step, once it’s bone dry: rub a thin coat of vegetable oil, coconut oil, or even petroleum jelly over the skin. Seals in the moisture, keeps the critters and the rot away. Do all that, and your pumpkin’s got a real shot at making it to Thanksgiving looking like you just brought it home.
Weekend Kitchen Planner
Thursday (get-ahead prep)
Make pie dough for the galette and refrigerate.
Roast and puree pumpkin if not using canned; cube and store the butternut, delicata, and dumpling squash separately.
Stale the bread for the bread pudding (leave cubed brioche/challah out uncovered overnight, or dry in a low oven).
Friday
Roast the kabocha for the crostini, assemble and serve.
While the oven’s on, get a jump on the sausage-apple filling for Saturday’s stuffed squash if you’re doing it ahead, cook, cool, and refrigerate.
Saturday
Morning: start the soup base (onion, garlic, delicata, broth) so it simmers while you prep the galette dough and filling.
Crisp the pancetta and toast the pepitas fresh, right before serving, so they stay crunchy.
Assemble and bake the galette alongside the soup, both share oven space, so stagger by about 20 minutes.
Sunday
Roast the acorn squash for the Featured Recipe first thing; stuff and finish baking while the gnocchi and brown butter sage come together on the stove.
Bread pudding can go into the oven while the table’s being set, it holds warm nicely and gives you a clean finish to the meal.
Worth Keeping
“Just a small, good memory that still makes me smile.”
Before You Go
I’m off to the garden center this week. A bale of hay, some pumpkins and gourds to set the stage out front, a new wreath for the door, a fresh seasonal doormat. Get those few things in place and I’m pretty much ready for the season.
That’s my kind of fall decorating. Simple, a little rustic, nothing that takes over the whole yard.
I’ll say this though, I am not a fan of those giant skeletons you see on lawns everywhere now. The twelve-foot ones towering over the mailbox. How do those not scare the daylights out of children? They get me every time, and I’m well past trick-or-treating age.
Anyway. Off to gather my supplies and get decorating. Have fun with your own this year, whatever your style is.
See you next Friday. Bring your appetite.
— The Jersey Nonna