It's What's Inside That Counts

Some fruits flaunt their lusciousness. Red apples have a come-bite-me appeal. Purple grapes beckon from the vine, honey-dripping figs from the tree. But other equally fine edibles keep their charm a secret. The beautiful orange flesh of butternut squash is clothed in basic beige, the khaki trench coat of food.

It would appear that this plant's strategy is to keep itself unnoticed until spring. That plain, firm skin guards the fruit from predation and rot until time for its ripened seeds to sprout, nourished by the garden of its own decomposition. This makes it a stalwart friend to the gardener-cook.

Easy to grow in a sunny spot with fertile, well-drained soil, the harvested squash last all winter long without the need for a root cellar. I recently picked mine in anticipation of frost, and they sit curing in the warm air atop a cabinet. Curing helps their skins to harden and the flesh to sweeten. In a few weeks I'll move them to a cool, dry spot, where they'll give me months of great eating.

If I were to grow only one squash it would be butternut. The fine, smooth, non-stringy texture of the flesh makes it ideal for soups and purees, for the filling in ravioli or for stirring into risotto. Whatever the recipe, I'm most apt to roast it, cut into oiled chunks or cut in half lengthwise and set cut side down on an oiled baking sheet. This yields an intense, concentrated flavor.

Butternut's size and shape are kitchen-friendly. I usually grow the classic variety Waltham, bred for a long straight neck. It ends in a rounded bottom, enclosing a seed cavity that is quite small relative to that of other winter squash. Individual fruits vary within a planting, some straight and clublike, others more curvaceous, with a narrow neck and a bulb-shaped bottom. I choose a straight one when I make one of my favorite dishes: rounds of neck cut into perfect half-inch-thick disks and fried in butter.

The skin of a butternut can be removed without difficulty, with a vegetable peeler or knife, but I usually keep it on during cooking. It can then be easily peeled off or the flesh scooped out with a spoon.

This summer I grew a new mini-butternut variety called Honey Nut, bred by George Moriarty, a research support specialist in Cornell University's Department of Plant Breeding and Genetics. He crossed a butternut with a buttercup, a dark green type similar to acorn squash, with very bright, sweet, beta-carotene-rich flesh. Seeds for next season will be available from High Mowing Seeds ( http://www.highmowingseeds.com) in mid-November. The fruit has deep orange, flavorful, non-stringy flesh, and most weigh a bit more than a pound (as opposed to the usual four or five). I was thus able to train them vertically on the trellis fence surrounding my garden, where they dangled, looking very decorative, despite being beige.