A colleague recently teased me that I probably didn’t really understand Thanksgiving, since no one in our house was going to be carving a turkey. Well, it’s no longer Thanksgiving, and this is no turkey, but Sydney can certainly carve up a meal.
Before we head out for Christmas travel, he’s been roasting, pureeing, and freezing piles of squash, including this one, a roughly thirty-pound beast that I think is a Musquee de Provence. The halves only just fit in our oven. In real life, it’s so deep orange it’s almost red. And the flesh more than filled my largest mixing bowl. Pumpkin soup, pumpkin crescent rolls, pumpkin pie . . .