You might have thought I was all done with the winter squash. But then you must not have peeked into my pantry lately. If you were to take a look, you would have spied 4 giant butternut squash, 2 sugar pumpkins, 1 acorn squash, 1 delicata squash, and a splendid blue hubbard. That is how our lovely CSA ends with an October bounty that will last us until January, if I manage to store them correctly. So forgive me for continuing the squash journey. I brought you a warming Tex-Mex inspired butternut soup, and that Pumpkin Maple Spice ice cream that detoured through China. Today, we’re heading to Lebanon.
I’ve never been to Lebanon, so this is, more precisely, Lebanon by way of Beacon Hill, Boston. Down the street from our last apartment was a very cozy Middle Eastern restaurant. The decor was slightly shabby, the menus worn. The jolly proprietor and solitary waitress were warm, though inefficient. But when work was piling up, and the thought of generating a single additional plate to wash in that dishwasher-less apartment was just too much to bear, we would head down the street. When a Nor’easter had settled in, but cabin fever was reaching never-seen-before heights, we would trudge down. It could still count as a Saturday night outing, even if we didn’t make it more than one short block, right?
