Pattypan Squash



The Saturday morning farmers’ market at Hope High School is one of my favorite rituals of Providence in the summertime. It’s small but lovely (much like Providence itself), with its semi circle of covered stalls, its colorful sampling of homemade jams and preserves, and of course, its mascot the llama, who stands to one side of the yarn stall serenely surveying the scene. Colliding unexpectedly with friends and family is almost guaranteed, at which point the thing to do is compare lists and baskets of unquestionably fresh and local produce.
Squash has been the true highlight of the farmers’ market this season. Granted, the early corn was crisp and sweet, the tomatoes ripe and juicy off the vine, the baby plums a tantalizing balance of sweet and sour, and the greens so fresh they keep for weeks - but it’s the squash that have really set my taste buds humming. I don’t remember the last time summer squash tasted much better than substantive water. The farmers’ market squash, by contrast, have a deliciously creamy texture, and are densely packed with that lightly buttery and subtly nutty flavor that is best described as “squashy.”
We’ve eaten quite a bit of squash this summer. Each week I’ve made a different rendition of zucchinis, straight- or crook-neck yellow squash, or truly any variety I can find: sautéed in olive oil; roasted in a mélange of mixed veggies; grilled with some vinaigrette and herbs; boiled and buttered. It wasn’t until this week, though, that I brought home pattypan squash.
Smallish, short, and squat with festive scalloped edges, pattypans are sometimes described as flying saucers. They come in lively shades of yellow, white, and/or green, the darker ones providing the most nutrients in their tender skin. The baby ones are cute and little enough to pop in your mouth like fresh crunchy candies, and the big ones can be prepared as you would any other variety of summer squash. Either way, they are one of the world’s most healthful foods, providing vitamins A and C (and some B’s), niacin, thiamine, riboflavin, calcium, potassium and iron, and tons of fiber and beta carotene.
Summer squash was a food staple in the Americas for some eight thousand years before the first European explorers arrived. The name was adapted by the settlers from the Algonquin word askutasquash, meaning “eaten raw.” Pattypans were cultivated widely in those times, and their popularity soon caught on in Europe. In England they became known as custard marrow for their delicate fleshy interior, and in France, patisson panaché. For a period in the seventeenth century, pattypan squash was known as cymling because it resembled the English simnal cake, a fluted cake eaten during Lent.
Because of their beguiling shape and stature, I felt it was a shame to chop the pattypans – they’re just too charming left intact. I think a lot of people must feel the same way because recipe after recipe I consulted recommended stuffing them. I tried this technique last night with a couple of larger ones – about three or four inches across – slicing off their caps a little way under the stem and gently scooping out most of the white flesh with a small spoon. I diced a shallot, a clove of garlic, and the flesh of the squash, and sautéed them all in a bit of butter and olive oil. I added a few tablespoons of breadcrumbs, salt and pepper, and at the last minute, some grated parmesan cheese. I stuffed this mixture back into the pattypan shells, placed the cap back on top, and put them in the oven for about twenty minutes at 350. You know they’re done when you can pierce the shells easily with a fork.
They were so adorable sitting on the place with their caps set jauntily askew! They were quite yummy also, but I didn’t pay them enough attention since my mind was already racing to the countless other pattypan fillings I want to try: think, for instance, of a roasted corn, black bean, and jalapeño combination, or a sausage and cornbread mixture, or a potato gratin en patisson, or even a sweet custard, paying homage to its old British name... the possibilities are endless, too bad the season is not.

Posted: Fri - July 23, 2004 at 04:19 PM      


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