Grade-A Gratin

By Mary Welp

Winter squash, summer squash — how do you tell them apart? Which are gourds and which are edible? Do some work better as front-porch decorations than as delicacies brought to fruition in the oven? These are questions the Native Americans could have given us answers to from the get-go, if only our foreparents hadn’t been so obsessed with corn, corn, corn. In fact, get this — the English name for squash comes from the Narragansett Indian word askutasquash, meaning, green-raw-unripe, which was the way the Narragansetts ate it.

Askutasquash! Doesn’t that beat the daylights out of “poppycock” or “balderdash” as a term of dismissal?

The basic difference between summer squash and winter squash is that summer squash is plucked from the vine when young, its skin tender and edible, while winter squash is not picked until fully mature, with a protective skin that is thick, hard and inedible. Which is better for you? What would Humbert Humbert say? Winter squash is higher in iron, riboflavin, complex carbohydrates and vitamin A, but the edible skin of summer squash is loaded with beta-carotene. So once again, life comes down to Lolita vs. Colette. (Oh, and by the way, all squash is technically the fruit of the gourd.)

Like the people many of us choose as our best friends, winter squash is both a little bit sweet and a little bit nutty, and there are ways you can treat it to elicit one characteristic or the other. Traditional autumn and winter spices such as cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice and ginger go hand-in-glove with squash, but there are subtler means as well to extricate the delicate flavors of this son of a gourd. Enhancing it with sharp, salty cheese (as in the recipe below) can bring out a savory quality in squash. You can give new dimension to bean soups and chili, for instance, by substituting squash as one of the ingredients. In such dishes, think of it as an alternative to root vegetables.

 The other side of squash — its nuttiness — is suggested by the very names of the outstanding winter varieties: butternut squash and acorn squash. These two work wonderfully well in rice dishes, particularly in risotto. They live to soak up butter. One of my favorite side dishes in the world is something I learned from a food-loving nun in my college cafeteria: Slice an acorn squash in half, remove the seeds, place a tablespoon of butter and a tablespoon of brown sugar in each, and bake at 375 for 45 minutes. 

Walnuts and pecans both work well in tandem with winter squash, as do pistachios and almonds, especially in curried dishes. The nuttiness of squash, according to food-and-drink-pairing experts, make sherry and bourbon great partners for it, which is why recipes for soups made from squash often call for one of those spirits in lieu of wine.

So what should you look for in choosing winter squash? Here is an interesting tidbit for the Size Matters crowd: There is no such thing as an “overgrown” winter squash; not only that, but the longer the squash grows on the vine, the sweeter it will be. A decent winter squash should have a smooth, dry rind, free of cracks or soft spots. It should be dull, not shiny, as a shiny rind indicates that the squash was picked too early and will not have the full sweetness of a mature specimen. Deep, rich color is another sign of a good winter squash. (Where do you think those catalog companies get the names for their sweaters?) Butternut squash should be uniformly tan, with no tinge of green. Any winter squash should feel heavy for its size. If possible, choose one with its stem attached. Stems should be rounded and dry, never collapsed, blackened or moist.

A word of caution: Precisely because of their protective shells, winter squashes have a much longer storage life than their summer compatriots. Many can keep for up to three months at home, even unrefrigerated. The high price you have to pay for this, however, is not in monetary terms but in the battle you have to wage with them in order to peel them. They give the word obdurate a whole new meaning. Don’t even think about cutting into a winter squash without a heavy chef’s knife or a cleaver. (You don’t want to /files/storyimages/up looking like Dan Aykroyd’s parody of Julia Child on the old Saturday Night Live, the kitchen turned into a bloodbath.) First, make a shallow cut in the skin to use as a guide to prevent the knife blade from slipping. Then place the blade into the cut and tap the base of the knife (near the handle) with your fist or something heavier, such as a rolling pin, until the squash is cut through. In recipes requiring you to peel the squash use a good, sharp vegetable peeler that has a firm grip.

Once you get the peeling and slicing out of the way, the recipe below is a cinch. It’s more or less a glorified cousin of the cheesy-potatoes recipe I’ve written about in a previous column, except this one doesn’t even require you to make a roux. The addition of tomatoes in the middle and walnuts on top l/files/storyimages/it extra color and texture.

Squash and potato gratin with walnut crust

• 1 acorn squash, peeled
• 1 butternut squash, peeled
• 2 medium-large Idaho potatoes, peeled
• 2 large tomatoes, sliced
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 6 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 1/2 cup finely chopped walnuts
• 1/2 cup fresh breadcrumbs combined with 2 tablespoons melted butter

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter a fairly large glass or ceramic baking dish. Cut the acorn squash in half and scrape out the seeds. Cut the butternut squash in half lengthwise and scrape out the seeds and fibers. Slice the squash and potatoes as thinly as possible, about 1/8 inch thick. Line the bottom of the baking dish with a layer of squash (overlapping slightly), season lightly with salt and pepper, sprinkle with a little of the Parmesan, and drizzle with a little of the cream. Cover this with a layer of potato slices and a few tomato slices. Season with salt, pepper, cheese and cream. Repeat with the remaining squash, potatoes and tomatoes until the dish is full, ending with a top layer of squash, seasoned and topped with any remaining cheese and cream. Press down lightly to distribute the cream and compress the layers. The last layer should be just resting in the cream, not drowning in it. Cover the dish with foil and bake until the vegetables feel tender when poked with a thin, sharp knife (check the middle layer), about 70 minutes.
Combine the walnuts and buttered breadcrumbs. Remove the gratin from the oven, sprinkle with the breadcrumb-nut mixture and bake until the top is lightly browned, five to 10 minutes. Let it sit in a warm place for 20 minutes before serving so that the liquids will set. Cut into squares or triangles (depending on what shape pan you have used) and serve. Serves eight.