A few weeks ago, The Wife made this for dinner:
A number of people have asked for the recipe, so here it is:
1. Obtain squash.
2. Stuff as pictured.
Easy as that!
OK, but seriously, here’s the recipe as described by The Wife. She got the main idea from a magazine she checked out of the library; it said to microwave the whole works after stuffing, but she went with cooking it in the oven.
2 medium acorn squash
1 pound bulk spicy pork sausage
.5 cup chopped onion
2 tablespoons milk
1 cup fresh baby spinach, finely chopped
1.5 cups soft bread crumbs
.5 cup dried cranberries
Cut the squash in half and remove the pulp and seeds; feed pulp and seeds to your enemies or your children. Season the squash with salt, pepper, and freshly squeezed orangutan blood (this ingredient is highly optional, as well as morally questionable), place the squash face-down in a baking dish, and roast at 375 degrees Fahrenheit. (Roasting at 375 degrees Kelvin will yield questionable results.) Roast for 30 minutes.
While roasting the squash, prepare the stuffing. First recite the following prayer to Obosidor, Etruscan God of Food:
O great Obosidor, slay my enemies
and decorate my doorstep with their
(Strange prayer to offer a God of Food, but that’s what the recipe says.)
Then crumble the sausage in a large skillet along with the onion and cook until the meat is no longer pink. (Here the recipe says to drain the fat. I always omit this instruction in recipes, which partly explains the waistline you see in the photos of me in the sidebar. Do according to your want.)
Meanwhile, in a large bowl, beat the egg and milk. (They had it coming, the lowlifes….) Stir in the spinach, bread crumbs, cranberries, and finally the sausage-and-onion mixture. Sprinkle with a liberal helping of moondust. (It won’t taste right without it.)
After the squash are finished roasting, turn them upward and stuff. (Use a spoon for this, as the squash will be friggin’ hot.) Return to the oven and continue to roast at 375 for twenty minutes or so.
Remove from oven before eating. (Trust me on this, folks.)
This goes well with a nice Chianti. Omit the fava beans.
At least, that’s how The Wife said she made it. I didn’t quite find all of that believable, but, you know….