Today we put the squash and zucchini garden to bed for a nice long rest, and honestly? She earned it.
This is the garden I named Elizabeth, after my sister — love you, seezter! — because she spent the entire season being extra. Not a little extra. Not "oh, what a productive year" extra. I mean vines escaping their beds, zucchini appearing overnight like they were being delivered, squash hiding under leaves until they reached sizes that required two hands and a strategy. Elizabeth does not do anything halfway, garden or human, and I mean that as the highest compliment.
Now look at this wagon. Buttercup squash stacked like cannonballs, zucchini wedged into every gap, the whole thing parked next to the wall like a trophy. And here's the thing you need to understand about this photo: imagine this times about five. That's what Elizabeth produced this year. Five wagons. I pulled the vines today and even they looked tired — the good kind of tired, like they left it all on the field.
So the pantry situation is handled. We will have squash all winter long, and I could not be happier about it, because winter squash might be the most forgiving thing I grow. It keeps for months in a cool spot with zero effort from me, and it goes in everything. Roasted with dinner, mashed with butter, and — my personal favorite — cubed into soups and even chili, where it gets a little sweet and makes the whole pot taste like you worked harder than you did.
And since I know that "squash in chili" raises an eyebrow or two: I wrote it up for you. My Garden Squash Chili — the pot that puts a wagonload of winter squash to work, with a soup variation tucked in for good measure. Download the recipe free right here. Consider it a gift from Elizabeth. She insisted. She's extra like that.
Sleep well, Elizabeth. Same time next spring. Bring the drama.
— Granny
📸 real photo, 🎨 graphic design assist