One of my last purchases before the Carnation Farmers Market closed for the season in September was this butternut squash. It’s been on the kitchen counter for so long that I began to regard it as merely a decorative fixture instead of an edible vegetable. Not to mention that it looked kind of hinky beside the Christmas poinsettia.
I’ve never bought (or grown) a butternut before, but autumn always makes me feel all Earth Mother, so I had grand plans to make a hearty fall soup … you know, way back when it was fall. But when I searched online recipes, I couldn’t help but notice that they all prefaced the actual recipe with daunting instructions (and often YouTube videos) for how to cut a butternut squash.
Now, I know I’ve mentioned a couple of recipes here lately, but the fact is that I’d rather do just about anything—taxes, root canal, bikini wax—other than be in the kitchen. I have a very short attention span when it comes to cooking, and if faced with any insurmountable obstacle, such as how to peel a vegetable, I can easily be persuaded to bag it and eat soup out of a can. I don’t need a YouTube video to operate the can opener.
The other reason I don’t like to cook is that I have such bad luck with knives that I’m basically a danger to myself in the kitchen. I especially have bad luck with The Really Sharp Knife that was clearly required to pierce a butternut. You know how in fantasy movies when the golden-haired hero beholds the wonder of the enchanted sword as forboding music swales in the background and the sword emits an evil glow? That’s pretty much how I regard The Really Sharp Knife: forboding music and evil glow. But then I’ve nearly sliced off the tip of my index finger with it (more than once) and needed stitches (also, more than once, although I refused to go to the ER for subsequent injuries because the needle for stitches emits its own forboding music and evil glow).
But the ax? I’m just fine with the ax. Because both of my fingers are way at the other end of the handle from the blade, and really all I need to worry about is chopping off a toe. And, since I’ve never chopped off a toe, it seems less painful than the known pain of slicing my finger yet again. Also, our ax is clearly very dull from lack of use. Fifteen years we’ve had that ax and the price tag is still on the head.
Anyway, if you were hoping to find real instructions about how to cut a butternut and you’ve followed this blog for any time at all, you should know better. And I invite you to browse YouTube.
If you’re wondering what I made with my butternut, I continued my obsession with Smitten Kitchen recipes and made this delicious butternut squash soup with croutons. It was so good that I shared half the vat with our neighbor. And I don’t usually distribute my cooking for public consumption. Really, you must make the croutons. In fact, just skip the butternut, the ax, and the soup and just make the croutons.
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