Osh Squash B'gosh

Show me your garden

and I shall tell you what you are.

-Alfred Austin

Okay, it's time you hear the squash story.

Let me preface by saying this: that the Tale of the Butternut Squash was not my first foray into small town grocery store shopping. One of my first posts ever was called Adventures in Adjusting, and still makes me laugh so hard I have to cross my legs really tightly when I read it.

Ahem. Anyway, the Tale of the Butternut Squash. It goes something like this: one cold, cold winter day, I was sitting in the study, bundled up in a quilt, when a recipe for butternut squash risotto appeared on FoodNetwork. Instantly, I became obsessed with making it, convinced it would warm me heart and soul and coax me out of my beef stew rut. It was 3 p.m.

I put on four extra pairs of socks and rushed to our small town grocery store. I should have known better. "Where are you hiding the butternut squash, Larry?" I ask our "produce" guy. Larry stares at me, dumb stricken. (I honestly think he's scared of me.)

"Um, Brin," he says, slowly, "I've told you bifore, this ain't Dalllas. We don't carry thet faancy squarsh."

"It's not fancy, Larry," I moaned. "It's just like summer squash and zucchini, only better. I bet you'd sell it if you would just put some out."

Gosh. Adventures in Adjusting, here we go again. So I get in the car and drive. I drive an hour and rush into Wal-Mart. I look high and low. No butternut squash. "Osh squash b'gosh," I mutter in frustration. I almost start to cry.

Ten minutes later, I'm back in the car. I drive another hour. Kroger is my next victim. And whatdya know. I find one shriveled, half-slimy, organic butternut squash. The total comes to $7 for one squash. By now I don't care. Sold!

It was 10 p.m. when I got back to Freeman House. Butternut squash didn't even sound that good anymore. Nevertheless, I roasted that sucker and made risotto. And I must say, it was pretty tasty.

I was still sore about whole squash conquest, though. As I cleaned up the mess, I eyed those slimy seeds. "You are the last butternut squash I will ever buy," I growled through clenched teeth. I carefully washed those seeds, blotted them, and laid them on paper towels. Then I walked away.

Fast forward to two weeks ago, when I was sticking anything that resembled a seed into my organic seed mix. Remembering my squash oath, I found those seeds, and although they looked pretty lame, I jabbed them into dirt, splashed them with water, and begged them to sprout....


[Smile]

Today is butternut squash planting day, my friends. I loaded the pretties onto my old vegetable carry-all, and in rather dramatic Gone With the Wind fashion, swept my hand over my forehead and yelled, "With God as my witness, I will never go hungry... for butternut squash... again!"

Huh. Small town life. Osh squash b'gosh....