Texas Locavore

Butternut squash (like the one above), acorn squash, and kabocha squash are all over the local farmers’ markets, now. What’s up with all the so-called “winter” squash in August? Their name comes from the fact that they store well, so they can be eaten during the winter when summer squash are long gone. Winter squash are harvested when they’re fully mature, their seeds large (and great for roasting) and their skins tough and protective. They must be cooked, and typically peeled, before consumption. I grew up in the Northeast, where fall comes earlier. So when I think winter squash, I think cooling temperatures, falling red leaves, turtlenecks and sweaters coming out of storage. Clearly, it’s time for none of that here, so I’m not much in the mood for winter squash yet. If you feel the same way, you might consider saving your winter squash for fall. You can put whole, unblemished fruits in a dark, cool, dry place or you can roast them and freeze their flesh. To roast, slice your squash in half, scrape out the seeds, and put the halves face down on a parchment-lined cookie sheet in a 400-degree oven until it’s soft enough to be collapsed by a prodding wooden spoon, an hour or so, depending on size. Cool, then pack the skinned flesh into a freezer container and label. The hardest part? Remembering it’s there when the temperature drops. At that point, it’ll make a great filling for pasta, a rich soup ingredient, or a savory side when heated and mashed with parmesan.

Peas can be confusing. We use the word, “pea,” to describe two distinct species: One originated in Asia and yields both those familiar little green globes and edible pods like snowpeas. The other came from Africa and gives us the bitty oblong morsels so often dried for storage. That second species, called Vigna unguiculata in Latin, is the one pictured above. Like the other species (just in case you weren’t already confused), its edible seeds, pictured, grow in long pods. To further confuse, its various varieties, in various regions around the country, have various names: Besides cowpeas, they go by black-eyed peas, cream peas, crowder peas, and more.  They’re associated with the South, where growing temperatures are suitably warm - and where they first entered the States, brought here by slaves. Their most famous role is in Hoppin’ John, though in West Africa they’re also skinned and ground, then formed into creamy cakes. They’re an important crop for Texas, where of course they’re an essential ingredient in Texas Caviar, which folks in New York City call “pickled black-eyed peas” (bless their hearts). My favorite preparation is simply boiled or steamed with a side of chili sauce - another Southern delicacy for another day.

Yes, we know that Lone Star is the national beer of Texas, but that ain’t it, pictured above.  And although Shiner’s brewery is the oldest independent one in the state, it’s not Shiner, either.  It’s a shooter of Independence Brewing Company’s Pale Ale.  Independence, located in southeast Austin, is one of Texas’s handful of “craft breweries” — small-scale operations that produce fewer than 2 million barrels annually and are generally low in additives and high on appeal to discerning beer drinkers.  Other craft breweries around the state include Live Oak, also in Austin, Real Ale in Blanco, Rahr and Sons in Fort Worth, and Saint Arnold in Houston.  (Texas Highways put together a tour of them in its July issue.) Altogether, these boutique operations produce but a drop in the barrel compared to the output of the likes of Spoetzl (which makes Shiner) and Lone Star.

Which Texas craft beer is your favorite?