August. The summer is starting to turn, the way Long Island summers do — not cooler yet but somehow different, the light arriving at a new angle, the evenings carrying the faintest suggestion of September. I feel it in my bones, the same way I have felt it for thirty-seven years: the approach of a new school year, the gravitational pull of the classroom. My body knows the academic calendar the way other bodies know the seasons. September is in the air, and I am already mentally arranging desks.
This week I preserved. Marvin's tomatoes have reached peak production, and I spent three days canning — tomato sauce, roasted tomatoes, tomato jam (which sounds improbable but is extraordinary on challah, a combination I invented by accident and now make on purpose every summer). The kitchen looked like a factory. Jars lined every surface. The steam from the canning pot fogged the windows. Marvin stood in the doorway and said, "It looks like the Garment District in here." This is, for Marvin, a very specific joke: his father-in-law Irving worked in the Garment District, surrounded by steam presses. I laughed. Marvin's jokes always land because they arrive from unexpected angles.
I wrote about preserving on the blog — about how canning is an act of faith, a promise you make to your future self that winter will come and when it does, you will have summer in a jar. Sylvia didn't can — she didn't have the space in the Grand Concourse apartment — but her mother did, in the old country, preserving whatever the garden produced because winter in Poland was not a metaphor but a threat. I can because I have the luxury of space and time and a husband who grows too many tomatoes, and because there is something deeply satisfying about sealing a jar and knowing that in January, when the world is gray, I can open it and summer will pour out.
Rebecca stopped by on Sunday. She's between semesters, reading for a new course on comparative literature that she's developing, and she wanted to borrow my copy of Isaac Bashevis Singer. We sat in the kitchen — always the kitchen — and she told me about a paper she's writing on Yiddish literature and displacement. I listened and asked questions that I knew she needed someone to ask, because sometimes the best thing a mother can do for her adult daughter is be an intelligent audience. She left with Singer and three jars of tomato sauce and a container of soup. I send her home fed. I always send her home fed. It is the only thing I can still do for her that she cannot do for herself, and I will do it until I can't.
All that canning, all those steam-fogged windows and jars lined across every surface — it only makes sense when you finally crack one open. This spaghetti squash “pizza” bowl is exactly the kind of dish I had in mind when I sealed those jars: simple, satisfying, and entirely built around the tomato sauce that Marvin’s garden made possible. I sent Rebecca home with sauce and soup, but this is what I made for us the very next night, and I thought of her the whole time I was cooking it.
Spaghetti Squash “Pizza” Bowls
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 small spaghetti squash (about 2 lbs each), halved and seeded
- 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 cup homemade or good-quality canned tomato sauce
- 1 teaspoon dried oregano
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
- 1 cup shredded low-moisture mozzarella cheese
- 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
- 1/2 cup mini pepperoni, sliced olives, or diced bell pepper (your preferred toppings)
- Fresh basil, for garnish
Instructions
- Roast the squash. Preheat oven to 400°F. Brush the cut sides of the spaghetti squash with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Place cut-side down on a parchment-lined baking sheet and roast for 35–40 minutes, until the flesh is tender and easily pierced with a fork.
- Scrape the strands. Let the squash cool for 5 minutes, then flip cut-side up. Use a fork to gently scrape the interior into spaghetti-like strands, leaving a 1/2-inch border to maintain the bowl shape. Blot any excess moisture from the strands with a paper towel.
- Season the filling. Drizzle the remaining tablespoon of olive oil over the strands inside each squash half. Stir the tomato sauce together with the oregano, garlic powder, and red pepper flakes. Spoon 3–4 tablespoons of seasoned sauce over each squash half and stir gently to combine with the strands.
- Top and bake. Divide the mozzarella and Parmesan evenly over the four squash bowls. Add your toppings of choice. Return to the oven and bake uncovered for 10–12 minutes, until the cheese is melted, bubbly, and lightly golden at the edges.
- Garnish and serve. Remove from the oven and let rest for 2 minutes. Scatter fresh basil over the top and serve directly in the squash bowls.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 17g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 620mg