Squash of the day.
Okay, first order of business, the hash-brown trial was a bust. A delicious bust, but it took way too much effort to prepare, to cook and just to generally achieve a mediocre result. Man, that squash tastes wonderful even when it’s just tossed with and egg and fried until the end of days. Still didn’t crisp up much sadly, curious reader, but as a recipe I couldn’t post it in good conscience. A quick run through for the ever incurably-curious: *Takes a breath* Well: Peel it, grate it, wash it three times, drain it, press it dry, pat it dry, add a medium egg, salt, pepper, stir it up, heat butter and olive oil in a pan, full heat, add a dessert spoon and flatten it out, cook until solid on one side, flip, press with a spatula for fifteen minutes or until browned. Alternately stir it around like a scrambled egg. Again, alternatively: Go with this recipe, it’s far better. I’m talking sell your great-grandmother’s jewels better, heck, you’ll sell your great-grandmother for this recipe. I’m the world’s worst recipe blogger at times, I admit, too honest in some regards, far too flippant, but, hey, this is cooking and baking by a real person. There’s rarely anything here you couldn’t try your hand at. I don’t want to be the cause of someone feeling they can’t match up by pretending or affecting. If I can do this, you can do it too and probably better.
Gardeners alone that toil in yonder garden, Enjoy such crunchiness. Sorry Lovelace.
Oh, the potato-peelers, the tuber-eaters, the nightshade-nibbles, HOW I DESPISE THEM SO…Wait, nah, I’m nightshade intolerant, but I’m fairly chill about it. It’s a damning intolerance to match with coeliac disease, no potatoes, no chillies, no peppers, and so on. I’ve had it my whole life and you learn to accept it, by which I mean you spend most of you life miserable and undiagnosed. Bitter, moi?, yeah, probably. I never looked back when I gave up nightshades, but I do miss the odd potato. You’ve heard me rhapsodise on the remarkable texture of the harlequin squash, never festival, never, and you might ask why Faux Roast Potatoes? Because this isn’t your everyday-run-of-the-mill-roast-it for-two-hours-and-it’s-chewy squash, no, this is a roast potato in everything but it’s origin. It was not dug from the ground, it grew, like all good berries, on a vine. But when stripped of that outer layer, cubed and roasted in oil it becomes a potato. The outer layer is crispy, not unlike a chip, or French fry if you’d rather, the inner, why it’s almost too good to attempt to describe. I may die in the attempt, just remember poor me fondly, sentential reader, and when your grandchildren gather round tell them of Jack, he who would describe this beautific squash. Here I go, a far greater thing etc: It’s bloody lovely innit. All soft and buttery like.
This is a nightshade free dream. Absurdly simple to prepare, I’ll omit the growing of the squash. Worth the effort. Where sautéed harlequin has a flaky crispy outside, this has a solid crunch, with a fluffy interior that beggars description. I might just cry when I consume my last squash. Remember also that it can be steamed and mashed and substituted for mashed potato. Now, that’s it for me until the next harvest. I have pots to plan the placement of and a lot of thumb twiddling to do. Until we meet again.
150g Peeled and Cubed Harlequin Squash
1 Tbsp Coconut Oil
Salt and Pepper to Taste
1. Preheat the oven to 200c (fan).
2. Add Harlequin Squash, Coconut Oil, Salt and Pepper to a bowl and toss to combine. Add everything to an oven proof dish, or line a tray with greaseproof paper, and bake for 20-30 minutes until brown and crispy. Serve immediately.
The flat version of the harlequin-hash-brown.
The scrambled version. Still tasty, just too soft.