Quinoa, Squash, and Black Bean Salad with Toasted Walnuts

If you’ve been visiting here for a while, you probably know that I have a bit of an obsessive disorder. I wouldn’t call it compulsive, just obsessive. Typically, this has to do with seasonal foods. It happens that the desire for each food doesn’t pass, it’s just that its season ends, generally at the exact moment that, say, the last bit of pumpkin that I stored for the winter has been scoffed down in a pancake, or scone, or tiramisu, or something.

Last winter, the sugar pumpkin made it all the way through February, which was a boon, but I hadn’t grown any of the pumpkin I had stored, and that bothered me.

No. Really. It did.

Conveniently, seed catalogs show up right around the middle of February, and one promised me exquisite, interesting winter squash. Squash I could grow myself. Squash, I would learn as I sat in my garden chair, sipping a rosé, that I would come to love. And this, even before I obtained carnal knowledge. (note: I’m not sure how disturbing the use of carnal might be, but I did partake of the pumpkin’s flesh, and I couldn’t quite resist.)

Galeux d’Eysines, my pumpkin paramour du jour (actually, this post is becoming more disturbing by the keystroke. See, now I’ve said stroke.), is fabulously textured with bumps that strongly resemble peanut shells. As you might have guessed, the luscious Galeux est Français, having originated in Bordeaux.

Please. Let’s pause for a moment now, as we think how incredible a gastronomic experience it would be to visit Bordeaux. Le sigh.

Amy Goldman of Seed Savers Exchange secured the seed for my darling squash at the Tranzault Pumpkin Festival in 1996 (I’d better start saving now. There is no way I can miss Tranzault 2011. In fact, I think I’ll start a hashtag and see if I can generate any buzz on Twitter for a blogger excursion.). This mid-90s seed exchange occurred only 113 years after the gallant Galeux was first mentioned in Vilmorin’s Les Plantes Potageres. Not ancient, but certainly qualifying as an heirloom.

Our friend Patrick (sorry, Patrick, if you’re reading, the pear & onion braised pork butt post will be up soon, I promise) stopped by this past Sunday while I was roasting le Galeux. I offered a sample before we trekked over to the wood-cutting field to see JR. “It’s extremely silky, almost custardy,” I said as I handed Patrick his taste. “Mmmmph, mmmmph, mmmmmphit, mmmmmmphis,” Patrick said in reply. Or at least that’s what I was able to decipher. He was eating, after all.

It is a dreamy pumpkin. A peanut-shell-like-texture-covered, hard to peel, 12-pound-weighing (onto the people scale it went) dreamy pumpkin. And I have only one pumpkin of its kind left after the four remaining pounds in the refrigerator are gone.

I should find some solace in the 20-ish pound Boston Marrow squash, the Potimarron (also French, but tiny, tiny, tiny – just 1 1/2 to 2 pounds, and allegedly tasting of chestnuts), and the Marina di Chiogga, the Italian heirloom that looks like a large, green turban. I suppose that I do find their existence in my root cellar comforting, but there is sure to be an overwhelming sadness when the last of the Galeux d’Eysines has been consumed.

To honor the squash, or maybe just because I thought it would be a good side dish or make-ahead lunch, I paired it with Red Inca quinoa, Christmas lima beans, and toasted walnuts. That combo is on the Thanksgiving menu this year (yes, that’s right, Richardsons. You have been warned. More weird stuff being made by moi for the holiday.). However, in the interest of sharing a recipe that’s a bit easier for which to source ingredients, I present to you, my new favorite lunchtime salad and sometime side dish to roasted chicken, or pear and onion braised pork butt (post coming soon, Patrick. Really.):

(I have also added oven-dried apples and pears to this dish – you can’t go wrong with those extras, believe me you.)

Estimated cost for 4 main servings (or 6-8 side servings) of quinoa salad: $7.62. The butternut squash costs 79-cents per pound. To account for waste from peeling and seeding, we’ll round up and call it two bucks. The olive oil costs 24-cents. The manufacturer’s directions I followed called for 2 cups of veggie broth, and that cost $1.20. The quinoa was $5.99 for 16 ounces, at a cost of $2.40 for 1 cup. The black beans cost a whopping 99-cents per can. The walnuts cost $8.69 for a bag containing 4 cups, we used 1/4 cup, so that’s 54-cents. A drizzle of local honey shouldn’t cost you more than a quarter, and if you buy an apple or pear to add to the mix, let’s figure a dollar more at the most. At the very, very most. That would up our tally to $8.62, but without the oven-dried fruit, it’s a mere $1.90 per serving. Add an on-sale yogurt and a local apple or pear, and lunch is still running us less than 4 bucks ($1.00 for fancy-yet-on-sale yogurt and 50-cents or so for the fruit).