Fall squash, collateral damage-free

I can't imagine how much I would have to love a man to dice kabocha squash for his dinner.

Along with "clean the squid" and "open the coconut," cooking instructions that involve reducing the size of roly-poly winter squash are easier said than done.

This is the time of year when commands such as "cut the butternut squash into 1-inch-thick slices" fall into the lives of home cooks as frequently as autumn leaves. Such recipe directions in no way hint at the battle that must be engaged to do so.

This is unfortunate, because nothing says October and November like the warmly orange and comforting dishes that may be made from these sturdy members of the gourd family.

Unlike the zucchini, a summer squash with thin and edible skin, winter varieties like the butternut, acorn, turban, Hubbard, kabocha, and pumpkin wear thick, hard suits that require considerable upper-body strength to pierce. In addition, their pulp is solid, making them more rocklike than the watermelons of summer.

The outer layer, of course, makes them much easier to buy ahead - they don't require refrigeration. And they're loaded with beta-carotene and antioxidants. But preparing winter squash for cooking is not for sissies; bravery, a sharp knife, and elbow room are necessary.

Although many people mention bagels when talking about kitchen knife mishaps, I think of squash.

A dozen years ago, I was greeted at the door by a friend whose right hand was wrapped in a kitchen towel. The kitchen looked like a crime scene, what with blood on the floor and a lovely Hubbard squash sitting on the granite countertop with a chef's knife stuck in it.

Instead of sitting around drinking cocktails, we spent the evening in the emergency room nursing her gashed hand and awaiting stitches.

We never did get to eat the soup she had planned to serve (the recipe is below). And to this day, she buys only lovely varieties of green, white, and orange-streaked squash to use whole as fall decorations for her dining-room table and fireplace mantel.

There are several ways to avoid such a fate.

The first, which is the path I favor, is to mainly make winter squash dishes that require mashed or pureed pulp.

Modern technology has given us frozen blocks of cooked and mashed butternut squash. This is generally sold in 10- or 12- ounce packages. Whoever came up with the idea to offer it, and canned pumpkin puree - with all the dirty work done - is on my list of domestic heroes.

These can be transformed quickly (and safely) into soups, pies, cookies, and more with the addition of spices and/or broth. (Note: One pound of winter squash, after cooking and mashing, yields about 1 cup. One 12-ounce package of frozen winter squash, defrosted, yields about 1½ cups.)

Also increasingly available are bagged, frozen chunks of peeled squash. And many supermarket produce sections now offer uncooked, precut fresh squash.

Many of us have no complaints about these shortcuts. But some cooks feel there's a certain sweetness and flavor that cannot be achieved unless fresh winter squash is transformed a la minute.

So, for those of you who think no pain in the kitchen is no gain, consider taking winter squash out to the woodpile to attack it with an ax, or dropping it from a tall building.

No, wait. There are other ways to go.

First - just as you might prefer to parallel park without witnesses - send everyone out of the kitchen.

Then sharpen a good chef's knife. Use a counter or tabletop that is low enough so your elbows bend only slightly as you place your hands on the table. This gives you more leverage.

If you require mashed or pureed squash, you are in luck because you need make only one cut. Do so by stabbing the squash and then using a rocking motion to cleave it in half. Scoop out the seeds and dress the insides of the halves with butter, herbs, and perhaps maple syrup, depending upon the desired flavor profile.

Place the halves, cut side down, in a dish or rimmed baking sheet and roast them at about 400 degrees, until the squash is soft when a skewer or knife is plunged into it and it is somewhat caramelized where the pulp has touched the cooking pan. Roasting also concentrates the squash flavors by reducing its water content.

The notoriously hard-to-peel skin will lift right off. Scoop out the now-soft pulp to use in the recipe.

To those among you who still wish to perform the ultimate labor of love by chopping or dicing winter squash, I advise first stabilizing the curvy vegetable by cutting a slice off its bottom or side so it will not roll around.

Use a good-quality serrated peeler to remove the thick skin. You can also boil the squash for about 5 minutes to soften the skin before peeling it off with your fingers or a paring knife.