Parmesan Butternut Squash

Ordinary week. I am noticing that I am noticing ordinary weeks, which means I have room for them again. In year one of widowhood there were no ordinary weeks, only hard ones and slightly less hard ones.

Clinic was steady. I spent forty minutes on a hypertension follow-up with a 58-year-old woman who cried because her husband left in March and she cannot afford her blood pressure medication. I got her on patient assistance for lisinopril and HCTZ. She thanked me about nine times. I said do not thank me, come back in two weeks.

Nora had a tantrum Wednesday morning at pre-K drop-off. She did not want me to leave. She clung to my leg. She screamed. Miss Rivera (the lead teacher, patient, kind, midsixties) peeled her off with the gentleness of a woman who has done this ten thousand times. I drove to work and cried briefly on the Expressway and then stopped. Nora was fine five minutes after I left, according to Miss Rivera. She always is. It is the first minute that breaks my heart.

Liam is reading. Really reading. He read the back of the cereal box to Nora Friday morning. Nora was deeply impressed. He pointed out the words like an auctioneer. I watched them from the hallway. I did not make them see me.

Tuesday group. Same eight of us, a six-week cycle. Tonight was our fourth session. Bernadette asked what has been a surprise about grief. I said the days I forget to grieve, the way you describe them like betrayal but they are not. The older widow, the 54-years-married one, said she forgets every afternoon for about twenty minutes and then remembers and panics. Bernadette said that is the shape.

Saturday pancakes. Burned the first one. Nora wanted to dump the blueberry container into the batter. I let her. It was a dense pancake week.

Sunday dinner. Ma made roasted carrots with honey and thyme and they were the best carrots I have ever had. She said it was because Brian got her a pound of fresh thyme at the farmer's market. I said we should start a farmer's market habit. Ma said we have one, it is called Ma cooks for you.

Food of the week: Ma's roasted honey-thyme carrots. 425 degrees, 25 minutes, a little sea salt at the end.

Ma’s honey-thyme carrots were their own kind of miracle, but I have been thinking all week about what made them land so hard — it was the simplicity, the way a vegetable roasted with care becomes something that feels like being held. I wanted to carry that feeling into my own kitchen, on a night when I was the one doing the cooking. Parmesan butternut squash asks almost nothing of you: a hot oven, a little fat, good cheese, and patience. It is the kind of side dish that makes an ordinary Tuesday feel like it was tended to.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 medium butternut squash (about 2 lbs), peeled, seeded, and cut into 3/4-inch cubes
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped (for garnish)

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 425°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper or lightly grease it with cooking spray.
Season the squash. In a large bowl, toss the butternut squash cubes with olive oil, garlic powder, salt, pepper, and smoked paprika until evenly coated.
Arrange and roast. Spread the squash in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet, making sure the pieces are not crowded. Roast for 20 minutes, until the edges are beginning to caramelize and the squash is nearly tender.
Add the Parmesan. Remove the pan from the oven and sprinkle the grated Parmesan evenly over the squash. Return to the oven and roast for another 8–10 minutes, until the cheese is melted, lightly golden, and the squash is fully tender.
Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving dish and scatter chopped parsley over the top. Taste for salt and serve warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Parmesan Butternut Squash — The Night Ma Reminded Me What Simple Looks Like