Honey Roasted Spaghetti Squash

May. The trees are leafing out — birch and aspen going green, the spruce staying dark and permanent, the landscape transitioning from the brown-and-white austerity of winter to the green-and-blue abundance of summer. The mountains are still snow-capped but the valleys are alive, the creeks running fast with snowmelt, the eagles back on their nests, the entire state shaking off winter like a dog shaking off water.

I'm writing more. Two posts a month now, sometimes three, the words coming more easily than they did in September when I first started. The blog has found its rhythm: recipes anchored in story, story anchored in the kitchen, the kitchen anchored in Alaska and the Philippines and the space between them where I live. My readership is small but faithful — the same commenters every post, checking in, sharing their own stories. A Filipino nurse in New York who makes adobo at 3 AM. A Samoan grandmother in Anchorage who recognized my description of Mountain View. An Alaskan man, not Filipino, who said he'd never tried Filipino food but started making my adobo recipe and now can't stop. These people are my readers. I carry them the way I carry patients — with responsibility, with care, with the understanding that someone else's attention is a gift you don't waste.

I made pinakbet this week — a vegetable stew from the Ilocos region, which is not Lourdes's region but is part of the Filipino lexicon the way all regional dishes eventually become. Pinakbet is vegetables — squash, eggplant, tomatoes, okra, bitter melon, string beans — sauteed with shrimp paste and sometimes pork. It's the Filipino equivalent of ratatouille: a vegetable dish that celebrates vegetables by cooking them simply and letting them taste like themselves.

The bitter melon is the dividing line. You either love it or you don't, and the not-loving is usually physical — the bitterness is intense, vegetal, the kind of flavor that makes children cry and adults argue. I love it. Reynaldo loved it. Lourdes hates it and makes pinakbet without it, which I have told her is cheating and she has told me is her kitchen and her rules. This disagreement has been ongoing for approximately fifteen years and will continue for another fifteen. It's not an argument. It's a tradition.

The pinakbet was bright and vegetable-forward and the bitter melon added the edge that I believe the dish needs — the bitterness that makes the sweetness of the squash sweeter, the contrast that makes the whole thing sing. I ate it with rice and thought about Reynaldo, who would have eaten the bitter melon first, saving the squash for last, because that was his way — get through the hard part so the sweet part feels earned.

Reynaldo always saved the squash for last — the sweet reward after getting through the hard, bitter parts first. I think about that every time I make a dish that centers on squash, which is why this honey roasted spaghetti squash felt like the right recipe to write down and share this week. It isn’t pinakbet, but it carries the same philosophy: let the vegetable be what it already is, give it a little heat and a little sweetness, and get out of its way. The honey here does what the butternut squash in pinakbet does naturally — it makes the contrast matter, it makes the whole bowl feel earned.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 medium spaghetti squash (about 3 1/2 to 4 lbs)
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 tablespoons honey, divided
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional, but recommended)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
Flaky sea salt, for finishing

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Set your oven to 400°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper or foil.
Halve and seed the squash. Using a sharp, heavy knife, carefully cut the spaghetti squash in half lengthwise. Scoop out the seeds and fibrous strands from the center of each half with a large spoon and discard.
Season the squash. Brush the cut surfaces of both halves with olive oil. Drizzle each half with about 1 tablespoon of the honey. Season evenly with the kosher salt, black pepper, garlic powder, and red pepper flakes if using.
Roast cut-side down. Place the squash cut-side down on the prepared baking sheet. Roast for 40 to 45 minutes, until the squash is completely tender when pierced through the skin with a fork and the cut edges are beginning to caramelize against the pan.
Make the honey butter. In the last 5 minutes of roasting, melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon of honey and the fresh thyme. Stir and keep warm.
Shred into strands. Remove the squash from the oven and let it cool for 5 minutes, then flip cut-side up. Using two forks, scrape the flesh from the outer edge inward to release the long, spaghetti-like strands. Work gently — you want the strands to stay long and intact.
Finish and serve. Drizzle the warm honey butter over the shredded strands directly in the squash shells, or toss in a serving bowl. Finish with a pinch of flaky sea salt. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Honey Roasted Spaghetti Squash — The Sweet Part at the End