Every year, the family of Saratoga Farmers’ Market assistant director Kristin Cleveland initiates Thanksgiving with the “great squash drop.” As Cleveland tells it, someone gets a giant squash from the farmers’ market and someone else drops it on the ground so that it breaks into pieces. Family members pick up the pieces, wash them off, and scoop out the pulp and seeds.
The pieces are then cut into bite-sized chunks, drizzled with some olive oil, salt and pepper, and roasted in a 400-degree oven until soft.
The tradition pays homage to the family’s favorite squash, the blue Hubbard. This squash is large, blue-hued and knobby on the outside. Inside, it is lushly orange and after roasting tastes like a sensual cross between a pumpkin and sweet potato.
The Hubbard, like many other squashes and late fall vegetables at the Saratoga Farmers’ Market, is all about having fun. Family and cooking and eating fun. These vegetables invite you to slow down and savor the flavorful diversity of what our farmers grow. In doing so, you become a part of our region’s agricultural heritage that stretches back centuries.
Fall vegetables are vital to our holiday palates, even as the centerpieces of our meals are often meats such as turkeys and ducks, and pork, beef, and goat roasts, all of which also are becoming available in mid-November through early winter. Vegetables enhance our meats, and offer a flavorful and healthful edge.
And, of course, they’re pretty. Imagine the blue Hubbard next to a startlingly bright green set of celery sticks, red carrots, purple potatoes, and a handful of Brussels sprouts balls. Add a head of radicchio, a bulb of garlic, some striped Chioggia beets, and perhaps a bunch of leafy kale. Your holiday meals will draw accolades for their beauty and bounty.
Look for these and other seasonal offerings on the main and upstairs floors of the Lincoln Baths Building, Saturdays 9 a.m. to 1 p.m., as the Saratoga Farmers’ Market moves indoors for the winter and use the accompanying recipes to guide you in your cooking.
