Why I love my husband

O.K., so this is a post about butternut squash, but if I’d put that in the headline you’d have blown right past it and I know that. It’s also about why I love my husband. Let’s get to the squash first. I bought some butternut squash and turnips at the farmer’s market Saturday. Mark is partial to turnips but not so much to squash, unless it’s crookneck and covered with cheese and buttered cracker crumbs. But I bought a butternut squash anyway. Just like I  used to tell Noah when he was little, you have to try everything and if you don’t like it you don’t have to eat it again. You’d think I wouldn’t have to do that with a 57-year-old man, but oh well.

Here’s the recipe: Peel the turnips and squash (I get rid of the part of the squash with the seeds) and cut it into small chunks. Try to make them the same size if you can. Turn the oven to 400 degrees. Put the squash and turnips on a cookie sheet covered in foil with a rim. Drizzle over some extra virgin olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast them for about 15 minutes or until they’re soft when you pierce them with a fork. Now, here’s what makes this: Drizzle some maple syrup over the vegetables and mix them up with a spoon so they’re all coated. Now pop the sheet back in the oven and roast another five or ten minutes until the syrup has caramelized. You can see the browned bits of squash in the photo.

We’re sitting down to supper and Mark eyes the squash. But here’s what I love! DSCN0695This is what he actually said.  “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to get me ready for the squash by feeding me carrots. I know that trick.” Actually, I think this might be a male thing, not being able to distinguish similar foods. Every time I fry thin pork chops, Noah thinks it’s chicken.

So here’s another reason I love my husband. The rule around our house is that whoever cooks doesn’t clean up. Now, of course, I think I got the better part of this deal because I love to cook so that part’s not a chore. Every night after supper, Mark does the dishes. If Noah’s here, he helps. I think I have trained them well in this regard. The next morning, I might find a casserole dish put away where it doesn’t belong, but that’s a small price to pay for kitchen help. On a non-food-related note, I also got Mark a carpet cleaner for his birthday. Now how pathetic is that? But it was semi-mechanical which makes it a toy in Mark’s book. And now every inch of carpet in the house is clean. I love my husband.

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