Simple Squash and Sausage

Frost has his annual bath. This happens every October, forced by the accumulated dignity-reducing events of summer — the rolling in things, the field investigations, the sugarhouse explorations. He is not enthusiastic about baths. He is not opposed to them the way he was at two and three. He is resigned to them the way a sixty-something man is resigned to the doctor: it is necessary, it will end, it is better than the alternative. He stood in the tub with the expression of a noble animal enduring something beneath his station. He looked magnificent for three days after. Then he found a dead something near the fence and we started over. Some cycles complete themselves without asking your opinion.

November is arriving at the edges. The first hard frost was Wednesday night, which finished the garden for the year. I walked through it Thursday morning: the basil black and collapsed, the last tomatoes burst on the vine, the beans dead, the squash lying in the frost with the particular finality of the first kill. It is never not affecting. You grow these things through five months of work and attention and then one cold night takes everything and the accounting is complete. The canning shelves are full. The season is over. It is the right outcome. It still feels like loss.

I made the cranberry sauce for Thanksgiving this week — early, because it keeps and because making it now means one less thing to do next week. Fresh cranberries from the farmers' market, sugar, a strip of orange peel, one cinnamon stick. Cook until the cranberries pop and the sauce sets. No gelatin. No can. My father used the can. I switched in 1985 and have never looked back. The homemade sauce has actual cranberry flavor, which the canned kind merely suggests. Helen says the can was fine. I say the can is fine. The fresh version is better. We agree to disagree. We have been agreeing to disagree about cranberry sauce since 1985. This is what a good marriage includes.

The squash I walked past Thursday morning—lying heavy and frost-bitten in the rows, finished by Wednesday night—was not the squash we’d eat. That squash had already come inside weeks ago, when the signs were right. This is the recipe I make in the days around Thanksgiving when the canning is done and the cranberry sauce is already in the refrigerator and what’s needed is something simple and warm that uses what the season left behind. Squash and sausage in a skillet: it asks very little of you and returns more than it has any obligation to.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 lb Italian or smoked sausage, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
1 medium butternut or acorn squash (about 2 lbs), peeled and cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1 medium yellow onion, roughly chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp olive oil
1/2 tsp dried thyme
1/4 tsp black pepper
1/4 tsp salt, or to taste
1/4 cup chicken broth
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Brown the sausage. Heat a large heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add the sausage slices in a single layer and cook, turning once, until browned on both sides, about 4–5 minutes. Remove to a plate and set aside, leaving the drippings in the pan.
Soften the onion. Reduce heat to medium. Add the olive oil and onion to the skillet. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion softens and begins to turn translucent, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more.
Add the squash. Add the cubed squash to the skillet and stir to coat in the onion and drippings. Season with thyme, salt, and pepper. Pour in the chicken broth, then cover the skillet with a lid or foil.
Cook through. Cook covered over medium heat, stirring once or twice, until the squash is tender when pierced with a fork, about 15–18 minutes. If the pan looks dry, add a splash more broth.
Return the sausage. Uncover the skillet, return the sausage to the pan, and stir everything together. Cook uncovered 3–4 minutes until the sausage is heated through and any remaining liquid has reduced slightly.
Serve. Taste and adjust seasoning. Spoon into bowls or onto plates and garnish with fresh parsley if desired. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Simple Squash and Sausage — The Frost Takes the Garden, the Kitchen Carries On