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Maple Sage Roasted Delicata Squash — The Table I’m Still Setting

Second Saturday of pancakes. Slightly better than last week. The first one still burned — on purpose now. Liam sat on the stool. Nora came down halfway through. I made six pancakes. They ate four. I ate one and a half (counting the burned one, which I always eat, as Sean did). I froze none. We ate through them.

The preparation this week was less emotionally violent than last week. I cried twice, briefly. I kept going. The pancakes are a thing I do now.

Thanksgiving is next week. The Donovans will be at the three-decker. I have been assigned the cornbread and the green beans, as in prior years. I have accepted both. I will bake the cornbread Wednesday night. I will drive to Southie Thursday morning. I will be there. I will be present. I will eat. I will hold my kids and my nephew. I will accept hugs. I will not fall apart. I have gotten better at not falling apart at gatherings.

I will not talk about the first Thanksgiving without Sean as a concept. I will let it happen. I will do the day. I will acknowledge afterward that it was a hard day. That is the way I am getting through holidays. The day does not get narrated in advance. The day gets survived. The narration is afterward.

Dr. Rashid emailed me this week with onboarding details. I start January 8. I have paperwork to fill out. I am ready.

Liam had another session with Ms. Russo. He talked about the pancakes, apparently. She reported he had said "my mom made them and I helped and they were good." She said he had been visibly lighter. I cried at the kitchen sink after reading her message.

Thanksgiving is next week, and I’ve been assigned the cornbread and the green beans — same as every year. But I wanted to bring something else, something I could make just for myself in the quiet of a weeknight, something that smelled like the season and didn’t require me to hold it together. Maple Sage Roasted Delicata Squash is what I landed on: simple enough to make without thinking too hard, warm enough to feel like it means something. The maple is close enough to syrup that it felt like mine.

Maple Sage Roasted Delicata Squash

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 2 medium delicata squash, halved lengthwise, seeded, and sliced into 1/2-inch half-moons
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 2 tablespoons pure maple syrup
  • 1 tablespoon fresh sage leaves, roughly chopped
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
  • Pinch of red pepper flakes (optional)

Instructions

  1. Preheat. Heat your oven to 425°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
  2. Prep the squash. Halve the delicata squash lengthwise and scoop out the seeds with a spoon. Slice crosswise into 1/2-inch half-moons. There is no need to peel delicata squash — the skin is tender and edible once roasted.
  3. Toss. In a large bowl, combine the squash slices with olive oil, maple syrup, sage, salt, pepper, and garlic powder. Toss well until every piece is evenly coated.
  4. Arrange. Spread the squash in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet, making sure the pieces are not overlapping. Crowding the pan will steam rather than roast them.
  5. Roast. Roast for 12 minutes, then flip each piece with a spatula. Return to the oven and roast for another 10 to 13 minutes, until the edges are caramelized and the cut sides are golden brown.
  6. Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving platter. Taste and adjust salt. Add a pinch of red pepper flakes if you like a little heat. Serve warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 118 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 15g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 148mg

Kate Donovan
About the cook who shared this
Kate Donovan
Week 399 of Kate’s 30-year story · Boston, Massachusetts
Kate is a thirty-five-year-old nurse practitioner in Boston and a widowed mother of two whose husband Sean died of brain cancer at thirty-three. She makes Irish soda bread and beef stew and shepherd's pie because the recipes are all she has left of a man who was supposed to grow old with her. She writes about cooking through grief and finding out you can still feed your children on the worst day of your life.

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