By February, and we started the ninth cohort. Twelve students, the same size as all the others. Madison led the first two sessions entirely on her own while I attended as observer, sitting in the back of the room with my coffee and watching her teach the framework I built, watching her students ask her the questions I used to get asked, and watching her answer them with an authority that is entirely her own. She's developed her own emphases over four years of co-teaching — she spends more time on the economics of food sovereignty, on the policy landscape, on how to navigate institutional relationships when you're running a small operation. It complements what I bring. Better together than either of us alone.
I thought about the director's phrase again: "Good teaching ends in replacement." Sitting in the back of Madison's classroom I could feel what he meant in a way that wasn't abstract anymore. She doesn't need me there. The students don't know the difference. The work continues. That should feel like loss and it doesn't. It feels like something working the way it was supposed to work, which is its own kind of satisfaction.
Caleb came by after the session on Friday and we walked the property line between our two pieces of land, talking about what he wants to develop over the next five years. He's thinking about a small teaching kitchen on his land, somewhere he can bring people from the tribe who want to learn to cook from what the land produces. He's been sober four years and working his land for two and he's starting to think about what it means to offer what he's learned to others. That's the sequence. That's always the sequence. First you make it work for yourself, then you show someone else.
When Caleb talked about building a teaching kitchen from what his land produces, I kept coming back to the simplest preparations — the ones that ask almost nothing of you and give almost everything back. Acorn squash has been part of winter provisions in this region for a long time, and it’s exactly the kind of recipe I’d start with in any new kitchen: minimal equipment, honest ingredients, and a result that speaks for itself. If you’re going to teach someone to cook from what the land offers, you start here.
Acorn Squash Slices
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 medium acorn squash
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted (or olive oil)
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat oven to 400°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Prepare squash. Carefully halve each acorn squash from stem to tip and scoop out the seeds and stringy pulp. Lay each half cut-side down and slice crosswise into 3/4-inch half-moon rings.
- Season. Arrange slices in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Brush both sides generously with melted butter. In a small bowl, combine brown sugar, salt, pepper, cinnamon, and nutmeg, then sprinkle evenly over both sides of the slices.
- Roast. Roast for 20 minutes, then flip each slice carefully with a spatula. Continue roasting for another 18—20 minutes, until the squash is fork-tender and the edges are caramelized and deep golden brown.
- Serve. Transfer to a serving platter and serve warm. The skin is edible once roasted but can be slipped off easily at the table if preferred.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 135 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 290mg