Farmers' Markets in Boulder & Longmont

Bob Munson's squash adventures

Reprinted from The Kitchens Newsletter

Ingredient: Winter Squash

Dumpling, Cinderella, Long Island Cheese, Carnival, Turk's Turban, Red Warted Ugly Thing are but a few of the 60 varieties of pumpkins and winter squash Bob Munson grows on his farm. Add to that the many varieties of gourds with equally fantastic names: Speckled Swan, Birdhouse and Bottle gourds. All in all, about 60 acres of Bob's fields are planted in squash, and this time of year, Bob is busy distributing his colorful and sometimes whimsical specimens along the Front Range, and to roadside stands and pumpkin patches all the way up into the High Country.

An impressive selection of Bob's cucurbits can be admired right at the Munsons' farm stand on the corner of Valmont and 75th. There, plump Jack-O-Lanterns sit proudly atop hay bales, and an endless array of edible squashes and pumpkins spill from their wooden holding boxes. During a recent visit to the roadside stand, Bob rattled off dozens of names, shared his favorite recipes, and gave an impromptu lesson in squash genetics.

To some, it may come as a surprise that melons, cucumbers, and squash are all closely related. But anyone who has planted these crops in the home garden has surely noted the similarity of their seeds, vines and flowers. Indeed, the cantaloupe melon and lemon cucumber are both members of the Squash Family-the Cucurbitaceae. And come September, farm fields like Bob's are aglow with the colorful orbs that are beautiful to behold, and delicious to eat for many months to come.

Bob explains there are three main groups of cucurbits: Cucurbita moschata species are easy to identify. "They're are all tan in color," he tells us, pointing to the familiar butternuts and the less familiar Long Island Cheese, plump and heavily pleated. The other two groups are distinguished by their stems: Cucurbita pepo species have a soft stems; those of Cucurbita maxima are woody and hard.

Making his way around the bins of squash, Bob points to one variety after another and quizzes us. "What's this, pepo or maxima?" he asks, holding up a Golden Kabocha. We squeeze its stem; it gives way every so slightly to the pressure. "Maxima," we offer. "That's right!" Bob exclaims, moving on the next pile. "What about this?" And on he goes until he's satisfied that we've learned our lesson.

Years ago, Bob used to plant squash for their seeds. Then, knowing which species were pepo, and which were maxima, was paramount. Pepos happily hybridize with one another, yielding fruit-the squash and pumpkins-with seeds of mixed parentage. When hybrid seeds are planted the following year, the offspring fruit will resemble neither parent. Rather, it will combine the characters of the two.

To avoid hybridization, Bob would plant several rows of pepos, such as spaghetti squash, followed by a swath of maximas, like hubbards. When bees visiting the flowers of one variety would bring pollen to the flowers of the other, hybridization did not occur as the two groups are genetically incompatible. But today, Bob is no longer concerned about the seeds-his goal is to grow fruit of the highest quality.

This time of year at The Kitchen, Bob's squash take the place of flower arrangements, and adorn almost every available surface. That is, as long as Bob can supply squash as quickly as The Kitchen's chefs venture out into the dining room to 'harvest' their ingredients. Winter squash and pumpkins store incredibly well. When put away properly-around 55°F in a relatively dry place-they'll remain in pristine condition for many months.

And during the months when Colorado's farm fields are frozen firm, a stash of winter squash allows us to continue eating locally all winter long. Simply cut into wedges, sprinkled with salt, pepper and some olive oil, oven-roasted squash (like acorn, dumpling, kabocha or buttercup) makes a satisfying side-dish, and lends color and complexity to a warm, winter salad. Added to onions sautéed in butter, many winter squashes can be transformed into a silky, smooth and vibrant Squash Soup. Since winter squashes are such a hearty ingredient, they add substance to vegetarian main courses like The Kitchen's Roasted Squash with Farro and Chickpeas. And because of their inherent sweetness, winter squashes lend themselves to savory as well as sweet preparations, as in pumpkin pie, or The Kitchen's savory yet sweet Squash Flan.

Bob capitalizes on the squash's natural sweetness to achieve nice, golden caramelization. His favorite way of cooking spaghetti squash, for example, it to scoop "the spaghetti" from the roasted squash directly into a skillet with hot olive oil and a little garlic. "Just sauté till about half of the spaghetti are a bit golden," he explains. But he maintains the best way to enjoy a quality squash is very simply: "Roast it whole till you can pierce it with a knife. Then slice it in half. Scoop out the seeds and add a little butter, salt and black pepper. That's it."