Glamor Squash

GLAMOR SQUASH

            If you want to be truly fashionable these days, turn yourself into a squash.  These curvaceous vegetables are showing up everywhere–pictured in handsome coffee table books and shelter magazines, not to mention the pages of every garden catalog.  If Hubbards and butternuts, which already seem to have publicists, also had legs, they would be on the red carpets at major awards shows.  The Heirloom Gardener, a glossy quarterly magazine put out by Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds, had a truly photogenic squash on its most recent cover.  Several years ago, garden writer and vegetable enthusiast Amy Goldman published The Compleat Squash, a lavishly illustrated guide to all manner of squash, with pictures so luscious they should be labeled “squash pornography.”  I generally steer clear of anything fancied-up with a quasi-archaic word like “compleat,” but I have to admit that Goldman’s squash are gorgeous and even compelling.
            Squash may be hip right now, but members of the genus Cucurbita are not exactly newcomers to the horticultural scene.  Squash were essential to the Native Americans, who taught colonists to grow them.  The vitamin-rich vegetables went on to become garden stalwarts and remain so to this day.  The showiest specimens are the pumpkins–iconic orange globes that are often carved or painted, occasionally smashed on Halloween and increasingly incorporated into everything from quick breads to casseroles.  Generations of protesting children have been cajoled or threatened into eating summer squash, acorn squash and any other kinds of squash their parents either raised or bought.  Some adults eat squash voluntarily, especially when it is cooked down and pureed into a creamy soup.  Gardeners adore zucchini, at least until the harvest comes in, when many of them do everything possible to foist off the surplus on unsuspecting friends and neighbors.
            But now, growing and eating squash–especially heirloom varieties–has acquired incredible cachet.  In some circles the presence of a locally sourced, heirloom squash at a gathering is totemic, or at the very least, an affirmation that whoever brought it possesses a holy trinity of modern virtues–environmental sensitivity, political correctness and moral superiority.  The same individual may also enjoy the taste of squash, but that is a secondary consideration.  Despite the obvious presence of warts, thick hides and seedy natures, squash have become symbols of the zeitgeist, like love beads at the end of the nineteen sixties. 
            As a squash grower, you can specialize in various types.  There are the hardy, reliable summer squashes, like the yellow crook-neck and straight neck varieties, patty-pans and zucchinis.  Within those categories there are many variations.  I counted seven different patty pan-type squashes, including a ghostly white variety, in just one catalog.  The winter squash selection is even bigger, dominated by a staggering array of pumpkins in all sizes, shapes and colors.  Even if you don’t eat or decorate with them, you can astonish your neighbors with varieties like ‘Red Warty Thing,’ a bright orange, oblong pumpkin completely covered with warts.
            The squashes that leap from the pages of the heirloom seed catalogs, like Baker Creek Heirloom Seed Company, Seed Savers Exchange and Seeds of Change are particularly interesting because every variety has a story, and some of them are so compelling they could be made into TV mini-series.  There are Asian, European and Australian squashes, not to mention old-time American types like the ‘Thelma Sanders Sweet Potato’ squash, the ‘Omaha’ pumpkin and the ‘Boston Marrow’ squash.
            Being terminally unfashionable, I have never deliberately grown a squash other than zucchini.  However, the squash have taken their revenge.  Earlier this summer, I noticed that some kind of cucurbit was sprouting underneath the composter, probably from a seed that had fallen through one of the ventilation holes.  I ignored it, assuming that the groundhog would make short work of it.  The ground hog ate only the blossoms, and the plant persisted in putting out new ones.  Now I have several nascent pumpkins and if the weather holds long enough, I might have a small harvest.  Unlooked for success of this kind usually inspires me to grow something deliberately the following season.  I have read that cucurbits, with their leafy, spreading habits, make excellent groundcovers in ornamental gardens.  We shall see.

            In the meantime, if you are looking to inject some cucurbits into your home landscape next year, it won’t hurt to start perusing the squash-heavy websites.  The following sites have good selections: Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds, 2278 Baker Creek Road, Mansfield, MO 65704, (417) 924-8917, www.rareseeds.com; Seed Savers Exchange, 3094 North Winn Road, Decorah, Iowa 52101, (563) 382-5990, www.seedsavers.org; Seeds of Change, PO Box 4908, Rancho Dominguez, CA 90220, (888) 762-7333, www.seedsofchange.com.  All three companies offer free catalogs