Bait & Switch

Last week when I was visiting my mom she asked if I wanted to join her for dinner.

“I made sauce with tomatoes from my garden and some of the ground meat you brought last time,” she said, tempting me to stay for a few more hours. But when she sat our meals on the table it wasn’t pasta on the plates but spaghetti squash.

I’m not averse to substituting Cucurbita pepo, (aka: Vegetable spaghetti, Noodle squash, Mandarin squash, and Vegetable marrow) for noodles, but if Mom would have tried to pull that one on her family back in the 70’s, there would have been a full-scale revolt. It would take years for that switch to become acceptable to our family.

First introduced to this unique winter squash back in the 80’s out west while cooking in a mountain hot springs resort in the Ojai Valley, it was our go-to substitute for the vegan items on the menu since all the in-house pasta was made with egg. At the restaurant, the squash was split and roasted until cooked, but the chef lamented not having a microwave in the old kitchen. He said it made them so much easier and quicker to cook—just toss it in on high for ten minutes and it’s done, he said.

Since it was I who did all the shopping at local farms, ranches, and farmers markets for most of the produce used at the restaurant, I picked up an extra one for myself to try at home. Throw it in the microwave for ten minutes—easy peasy.  

No one told me to puncture the squash in several places for the steam to escape. When that thing exploded it literally tore the door off the microwave and blew streamers of steaming squash all over the kitchen and me. When I returned to work it took one look and the chef called me out on my error. There were worm-like burn marks on my face, chest, and arms where I’d been scalded by the spaghetti squash monster. Needless to say, it wasn’t funny when it happened….

Now I always cut my spaghetti squash in half, removing the seeds, before roasting the halves in the oven.

Spaghetti squash gets its unusual noodle-like texture from a recessive gene. Although squash is native to South America, the first record of it comes from Manchuria, China in 1850 where it became a popular staple in many villages. By 1921 it had spread to Japan through an agricultural research station which improved several varieties for commercial production. In 1936, the W. Atlee Burpee and Company began selling the seeds in their catalog under the name Vegetable spaghetti. Processed food shortages during World War II was when Americans began substituting the squash for pasta. Today, spaghetti squash is grown around the world by both production farms and home gardeners.

There are several advantages to picking up one of these beauties at market. First, spaghetti squash can be cooked multiple ways—baked, roasted, and steamed. Once cooked, it can be shredded out of the shell for use in stir-fry, casseroles, and gratins. For new moms & dads out there, it makes awesome baby food. The flavor of the squash itself is mild and thus will carry any flavor added to it. My go-to meal is to cook the squash, fluff up the flesh into strand with a fork, add tomato sauce, top with cheese and roast. I can eat one half and save the other for another meal.

Speaking of saving, as a winter squash variety spaghetti squash will last three to six months when stored whole in a cool, dry place. In this day and age of supply chain hiccups, an impending La Niña winter, and pandemic lockdowns, it’s a wise choice to pick up an extra few at the market and squirrel them away just in case.