Creamy (Vegan!) Butternut Squash Linguine with Fried Sage

The week after Jess's birthday is always strange — like the weather after a storm, when the air is too clean and everything is very still. I went to therapy with Dr. Perkins on Wednesday and we talked about the eggs and the candle and what it means to make a ritual out of something. She said that is what humans do — we ritualize the unbearable so we can survive it. I said it felt less like surviving and more like just doing the next thing. She said yes, that is exactly right. That is the same thing.

Student teaching seminar had a guest speaker this week — a veteran SpEd teacher from Elgin who has been in classrooms for thirty years. She talked about burnout. About the year she almost quit. About the kid who tracked her down ten years later to say she had been the only adult who ever believed he could read. She cried a little telling it. Nobody moved. We all just sat in this particular silence that happens when someone tells you exactly why you have been working toward the thing you have been working toward.

Made brown lentil soup this week. A cup from the bulk bin, two carrots, a stalk of celery, half an onion, a can of diced tomatoes, chicken bouillon, thyme. Covered it all with water and simmered for forty-five minutes while I wrote my seminar reflection paper. The dorm hallway smelled like a grandmother's kitchen. Priya came in and said "Are you making soup again?" and I said yes and she said "Thank God."

Brown lentil soup is the food of people who are paying attention to what things cost and also to what they need. A pot costs under four dollars and lasts the entire week — lunch and dinner, reheated, with crackers or a piece of bread. I brought a thermos to campus twice and both times someone said it smelled amazing. Brown lentils will never be glamorous and I do not need them to be. They just need to be there, and they always are, and that is plenty.

The lentil soup that got me through that week reminded me that I keep coming back to the same truth in the kitchen: warm, simple, and enough. This butternut squash linguine lives in that same spirit — it’s the kind of meal you make while you’re doing something else, while you’re still processing, while the week is still settling. The fried sage does something to the air that I can only describe as intentional. Priya would approve.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 small butternut squash (about 2 lbs), peeled, seeded, and cubed
12 oz linguine
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup vegetable broth, plus more as needed
1/2 cup full-fat coconut milk or unsweetened cashew cream
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt and black pepper to taste
10–12 fresh sage leaves
1/4 cup vegan parmesan, for serving (optional)
Pinch of red pepper flakes (optional)

Instructions

Roast the squash. Preheat oven to 400°F. Spread cubed butternut squash on a rimmed baking sheet, drizzle with 1 tablespoon olive oil, and season with salt and pepper. Roast for 25–30 minutes, flipping once halfway, until tender and lightly caramelized at the edges.
Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook linguine according to package directions until al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water before draining.
Make the sauce. Transfer roasted squash to a blender or food processor. Add garlic, vegetable broth, coconut milk, nutmeg, and smoked paprika. Blend until completely smooth, adding a splash of reserved pasta water if needed to reach a pourable consistency. Taste and adjust salt and pepper.
Fry the sage. In a small skillet over medium-high heat, warm the remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil until shimmering. Add sage leaves in a single layer and fry for 30–45 seconds per side until crisp and fragrant. Transfer to a paper towel–lined plate. Do not discard the oil.
Toss and serve. Return drained linguine to its pot over low heat. Pour in the butternut squash sauce and toss to coat, adding reserved pasta water a little at a time until the sauce clings loosely to the noodles. Drizzle the sage-infused oil over the top. Divide among bowls and finish with fried sage leaves, vegan parmesan, and red pepper flakes if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamy (Vegan!) Butternut Squash Linguine with Fried Sage — The Kind of Warm That Fills a Hallway