Benito vs. the Farmers Market: Big Ol' Squash

The gigantic summer squash and baby onions you see at right were purchased at the Downtown Farmers Market. What to do with such bounty? I added a few cans of fire roasted tomatoes, some ricotta cheese, my own herbs, and made a squash gratin. I would call it lasagna, but that would be a
pseudotrophe. I'm going to get that word in the dictionary at some point.

I sliced up the squash on a mandoline, one of the only kitchen gadgets that I'm genuinely afraid of and hide so that no one will accidentally hurt themselves. It's fun, don't get me wrong, but I just see neat piles of bloody fingertips whenever I pull it out of the cupboard. When making the dish I treated it much like lasagna: layers of thin zucchini slices, then ricotta and herbs, then tomatoes, crookneck slices, then sautéed mushrooms and the baby onions, etc. The top layer included both crookneck and zucchini slices along with some grated Romano cheese.

The end result? Really good, but somewhat watery. I drained off the excess liquid, and am looking forward to the leftovers. I think it would make an interesting side dish, though I had it as my main course for dinner alongside a salad for an all-vegetarian meal. On top of that, nearly all of the ingredients were either grown by me, purchased from the farmers market, or organic.

For the wine, I pulled out a 2005 Saint-Véran, an unoaked white Burgundy. It's got a rich fruity nose, along with a tart acidity, good minerality, and full mouth feel. A bit of carrot cake flavor on the finish, oddly enough.

Benito vs. the Produce Section: Chayote

I'm fascinated by ingredients that are native to the American continents. Where would world cusine be without the tomato and pepper? I love finding fusion recipes for things like wild rice and bison and cactus. Today I'll be focusing on another New World family, that of the squash.

The chayote is a pear-shaped and -sized squash that goes by many names. My favorite is the one used in the French Caribbean islands: christophene. Oddly, the Larousse Gastronomique uses the English term "custard marrow", akin to the use of the word marrow when referring to a large zucchini.

Back in 2003, I was on a major squash kick. I'd had yellow summer squash, cucumbers, and zucchini before, but had somehow skipped the various winter squash. Except for pumpkin, but those are generally used around here in the canned variety or as simple decoration in the fall. I went through acorn and butternut and turban squash, as well as a few unnamed hybrids that would show up from time to time at the farmer's market.

For the preparation of the chayotes, I found a recipe that suggested softening them in hot oil and then cooking with some cream for a bit, followed by a topping of sliced green onions. Most chayote recipes seemed to use them just for bulk, and I wanted to really focus on the flavor of the squash. I'd heard it referred to as "mild" before, but it's pretty flavorless. In general, I'd compare it to a cross between a cucumber and a honeydew melon, yet watered down. It's clean and crisp, and ever-so-slightly sweet, but more confusing than anything else.

Final verdict: I don't know if I'll be incorporating chayotes into any dishes in the future. Maybe some raw diced pieces in a salsa fresca over seafood. Maybe as a mystery ingredient in a salad. It doesn't taste bad, there's just not enough flavor there to make it a significant ingredient. They are, however, quite easy to peel with a standard vegetable peeler. The skin is only about as thick as that of an apple or potato, unlike the thicker rind of some squash varieties.