The Courge Report

Even after a summer of chasing a fox out of the garden, we had a pretty good courge or squash harvest.  We lost one potimarron plant to the animal’s digging, but the rest made it through the intruder’s nightly drama.  In addition, we planted butternut.  It’s growing in popularity in France and Christophe discovered it the first time a few years ago on our annual return to Chicago.  He was thrilled we finally were able to add it to the garden.

All in all, we have 12 potimarrons, and two more are still ripening in the garden.  Christophe already used one butternut squash, but 12 remain.  In total, we have 31 pounds of potimarron and 28 pounds of butternut – then a friend gave us a pumpkin from his garden which is the ballpark of 20 pounds.  It doesn’t take a math degree to see we have over 70 pounds of squash – the birth weight of a baby hippo.

I can see the Forest Gump-like jokes coming on: squash soup, squash bread, curry squash, sweet and sour squash, squash and squash cookies, the list can get pretty long.  So, bring it on – I’ve got 70 pounds of squash to cook with and can use a few more recipes.

Out, out you go; out out with you.

The race is over: all the seeds I coddled by stating them indoors have finally been transplanted to the seedling box next to the garden.  It’s been two months and I’ve chased the sun around the house with four boxes of seeds in hopes to get them to grow.  Unfortunately, it’s been an overcast spring, so there hasn’t been much sunshine.  Despite my best efforts, the seedlings stayed small and are stunted in comparison to the seedlings of previous years.  I wasn’t able to transplant them outside until recently because it’s been too cold, so they haven’t been able to profit from the momentary breaks in the clouds.  This clearly hasn’t been typical “Southern France weather”.

Disappointed as I might be about their dwarf-like size, the plants have another month before being transplanted into the garden so there might be hope for them yet.  In addition to tomatoes and hot peppers I also seeded potimarron and butternut squash.  Potimarron is an heirloom squash and butternut, while quite common in the United States, is just starting to grow in popularity in France.  Christophe discovered it for the first time a few years ago and found it to be a worthy addition to the garden, which, if you knew how he defended space for the tomatoes, you would know it made quite an impact on him.

Until the big plantation – the tomatoes, eggplants, green peppers, and pumpkin, plus everything in the seedling box - the work in the garden is minimal, except for some watering and weeding.   I’ll take the break; I’m tired of chasing the sun from window to window and having to walk around the living room like it’s a game of Twister in order not to step on the trays of seeds I’ve started.  It’s time for the plants to grow – and chase after their own sun for a while.

Monday’s Leftover: September 18th

Monday’s Leftovers is a periodical series that recaps the weekend moments, the menu, the tasks, and the memories left long after the coffee is finished.

Menu:

Champagne: Marie Stuart, Brut - Grande Reserve

First Course: Great White Beefsteak Gazpacho “revisited” with Grilled Langoustine and Fresh Fennel

Main Course: Rabbit Confit in sauce Marchand de Vin, Cream of Potimarron, Sautéed Russian Tomato, topped with Potimarron Chips

Dessert: Yellow Raspberry Cake with Meringue Cream, Coffee

We’ve been wearing jeans and long sleeve shirts as the summer passed with little trace of the season, but September brought hot and humid weather that had us temporarily break out the shorts and sandals.  Family came to visit for the weekend, so all chores were put on hold to welcome them, and Christophe and I bartered for kitchen space in preparation of the meal.  They arrived as the Autumnal winds started to kick up and the smell of fallen leaves welcomed them.  The weather was still warm, but quickly changed.  The evening brought the promise of rain, which arrived sporadically throughout the night and continued through the next day.  The temperature dropped dramatically and open windows were quickly shuttered close. The warmer clothes shed for the last few days were re-found as we fronted the brutal seasonal change.  Autumn arrived overnight, unwelcomed with summer’s promised closure. 

The Potimarron

This is my new favorite vegetable: the potimarron.  It was planted for the first time in our garden last year and I find it amazing.  Its name is part pumpkin (potiron) and part chestnut (marron) and tastes like a supped- up pumpkin and with hints of chestnut.  I asked Christophe if he knew that’s how it got its name and he just laughed at me, “You love both pumpkin and chestnuts so I thought would have been obvious.”

Regardless of my vernacular oversight, it still intrigued me.  Many resources say it has Japanese origins, but I found one French resource that states it from South America and was probably first named Hokkaido squash by the Japanese.  Whatever its origins, it seems to be lacking a clear history.  What I do know is that it is coming back into fashion in the haut-cuisines of France.  Last year, we had dinner at Le Jardin des Sens in Montpellier, and not only did the potimarron grace their menu, it was used as autumnal table decorations.  I’m guessing it fell out of fashion since it’s smaller than other pumpkins, but is becoming popular again for its rich and delicate flavor.

We told Madame Gousse we ate our first potimarron last Sunday and she gasped, thinking we should save it for the middle of winter.  Little does she know we have a dozen growing, so happily we don’t have to horde them.  With our first poitmarron, Christophe made a creamy soup, tossed in sautéed vegetables and topped with a grilled sole fillet with fresh fennel sprouts.  I couldn’t think of a better way to meld the flavors of summer and the beginning of fall.

Soupe de potimarron aux légumes croquants de saison, filet de sole tropicale aux pousses de fenouil