Rice-Stuffed Butternut Squash -- The Week After, When You Cook What Keeps You

The first real snow of the year fell Wednesday night -- four inches, wet and heavy, the kind that breaks branches if it comes early. The apartment woke up Thursday morning to the specific acoustic dampening that new snow produces in Boston: you can tell before you open your eyes, the city is quieter, the trucks are slower. Liam stood at the window in his pajamas for twenty minutes looking at the parked cars turning into lumpy white shapes. He asked me if we could eat it. I said technically yes but probably not the part near the street. He received this answer seriously and did not pursue it. He is developing an interesting relationship to rules in which he asks the rule, hears the answer, and then operates within the rule without resentment. I hope this holds. I suspect it will not. The three-year-old compliance is famously short.

I made turkey stock on Friday with the carcass Maureen sent home. Twelve hours on low. The apartment smelled the way my parents' house smelled every Thanksgiving Friday of my childhood -- the cooked-bone deep note that sits under everything else, a smell I associate with Christmas approaching and my father asleep in his chair with a football game on and my brothers fighting somewhere upstairs. Some smells do more work than they should be able to. I filled eight quart containers and put four in the freezer. The other four became Saturday's soup: turkey and leeks and the last of the stuffing crumbled in and a little lemon. Liam ate a bowl and a half. Nora ate the bread.

Two new listings came through the realtor this week, both Quincy, both reasonable on paper. Sean looked at the photos Sunday night. We are going to walk both Thursday after his school day. I am trying not to have a specific feeling about either one. The split-level taught me that feeling is a liability in the house hunt. You should bring a notebook and a pen and your common sense and no feeling.

Liam explained Thanksgiving to Nora this week. I overheard it from the kitchen. He said: "There was a turkey and we ate it and then Grampa got sleepy. And Aunt Meghan was there. And Sal came. And we all said what we were thankful for. I said Mommy and Daddy and Nora and blueberries. Now you say it." Nora said "mine." Liam said "no Nora, what are you thankful for." Nora said "mine." Liam said "okay, mine is what you're thankful for." He is three and a half years old and he is already translating for his sister with the patience of a diplomat. I do not know where this came from. I do not know what I did to earn it. I am going to stop asking.

The clinic finally got a two-day stretch that was just routine. No admits. No acute calls. Chart review and chemo rounds and a long talk with a patient and his wife about goals of care, which is the conversation I have been having for eight years and which still requires the whole of me each time. I came home Friday afternoon and Sean had soup waiting and a fire in the little fireplace that we only use twice a year because it smokes. The smoke is acceptable. The fire is worth it. December is approaching.

The turkey stock is gone now -- into the freezer, into the soup, into the week. When there’s nothing left to simmer and the Thanksgiving carcass has done its final work, I always find myself reaching for something that still has that same slow, grounding quality: something you have to roast, something that makes the apartment smell like December. This rice-stuffed butternut squash is what I made Sunday when the soup was finished and the house hunt was temporarily on pause and I needed to feed my family something that felt like it meant something. It takes an hour and most of that hour you don’t have to do anything.

Rice-Stuffed Butternut Squash

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour | Total Time: 1 hour 20 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 2 medium butternut squash, halved lengthwise and seeded
• 1 cup long-grain white rice
• 2 cups low-sodium vegetable or chicken broth
• 1/2 medium yellow onion, finely diced
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/3 cup dried cranberries
• 1/4 cup chopped toasted pecans
• 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped (for garnish)

Instructions

1. Roast the squash. Preheat oven to 400°F. Brush the cut sides of the squash halves with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Place cut side down on a rimmed baking sheet lined with parchment. Roast for 40 to 45 minutes, until tender when pierced with a fork.
2. Cook the rice. While the squash roasts, combine rice and broth in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce to low, cover, and simmer for 18 minutes. Remove from heat and let stand, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff with a fork.
3. Sauté the aromatics. In a skillet over medium heat, warm the remaining tablespoon of olive oil. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
4. Make the filling. In a large bowl, combine the cooked rice, sautéed onion and garlic, dried cranberries, toasted pecans, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, and pepper. Stir until evenly mixed. Taste and adjust seasoning.
5. Fill and return to oven. Flip the roasted squash halves cut side up. Using a spoon, scoop a small amount of flesh from the center of each half to create a wider well, and fold that scooped squash into the rice filling. Mound the filling generously into each squash half. Return to the oven and bake uncovered for 12 to 15 minutes, until the tops are lightly golden.
6. Garnish and serve. Remove from oven and let rest 5 minutes. Scatter fresh parsley over each half before serving. Serve directly in the squash skin.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 66g | Fiber: 7g | Sodium: 310mg