The Haunting

by Laura on December 3, 2012

in Blog

The Christmas tree just went up this weekend, and thoughts are all on shopping, baking, and planning our Christmas season meals. But, right outside my window there sits something haunting me from two holidays ago. It’s that darn squash we bought from the Spring Hill Cheese Farm in early October, when we made our annual visit to the pumpkin patch.

As we were weighing our freshly harvested pumpkins at the register, I eyed this beauty – long, grayish-blue-green with a wart-like complexion. I had to get it. The huge vegetable, slightly tapered at the end, was perfectly shaped for me to carve the word “Boo” in it and add it to our family’s carved collection for Halloween. But, it is the words of the woman who sold it to us that haunt me today, “Oh, I love Hubbard Squash! I serve it as a side dish and also make soup with it.”

As I sit here at my desk, and eye the Hubbard just outside the window, I am also reminded of the chapter in Barbara Kingsolver’s book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle when she and her father work hard at carving up the squash grown in the family garden. Although she struggled to conquer that hard-skinned vegetable, she wrote of how much she enjoyed the challenge – and of course the results.

Passages read from Kingsolver’s book continue to creep into my thoughts, and haunt me throughout the week. When they do, I am renewed in my determination to pay more attention to the food we eat, and to where that food comes from.

As evidenced by the squash outside my window, my intentions have been in the right place, but I don’t always follow through. This time, the carving of the squash keeps getting put further down on my To Do list . . . especially now that the Christmas season is here.

I have to admit that I did chop up and roast a pumpkin this season, using its slightly sweet and creamy innards to make the filling for a Pumpkin and Blue Cheese Gallette, but perhaps me writing this will push me over the edge and get the knife out to bake it up and make some soup . . . enough to last us through the winter season.

As if this morning, the Hubbard is still haunting me – as are the words of Kingsolver and the woman at the farm who sold us this Behemoth. I’ll let you know when I’ve exorcised the demons, and excised the Hubbard.

 

 

 

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