Nubby sweaters. Dishes of hot oatmeal, drizzled with cream. Brisk walks along sidewalks littered with crunchy gold-hued leaves. Braised meat dishes, the stewed meat literally falling off the bones. It is fall. Out my window and a few blocks down, I can see Central Park, a place where only weeks ago, couples strolled in flip-flops. Now, not only are feet getting covered by proper shoes, but in the evenings, hands are being shoved snuggly into pockets. One tree is precocious. For sometime now, its leaves have been staunchly yellow, although in its neighboring arbor, the leaves still remain green. Fall is here, a time fraught with change, and I love it. And in celebration of this time year, I made a very simple, though quite impressive (if I do say so myself), Stuffed Squash.

I love winter squash of all kind. Besides being incredibly nutritious, these babies are versatile. Roasted, steamed, pureed, and now stuffed, I’ve cooked them in a variety of different ways, each equally delicious. This time around I stuffed the Amber Cup variety. A squat, plump relative to the Butternut squash, the flesh is bright orange, and the flavor subtle. This squash had a cavernous cavity, making it an ideal choice for stuffing. Scooping and discarding the webbing and seeds, I baked the squash, cut side down and seasoned with salt , pepper, and olive oil for 40 minutes, at 375 degrees.

While the squash baked, I got to work on the stuffing, a pilaf made from farro. Farro is a hearty grain, similar to barley. A chopped onion, a few cloves of garlic, and some sliced crimini, made for a good, aromatic base. Into the same pot went the farro, and the mix was covered with stock. 25 minutes later I tossed in a handful of dried cranberries to give the stuffing some sweetness.

By this time the squash was fairly cooked. I flipped it over, and filled the cavity with the farro stuffing. I continued to let the now stuffed squash cook for a few minutes, letting the flavors meld. When the filling reaching a nice, toasty hue, and the squash browned and crisp along the edges, I knew it was ready to be served. Cutting wedges from the squash, the stuffing falling in loose morsels around the plate, this was the perfect autumn celebration– a one-pot, comforting meal. Bring on fall, I’m armed and ready for the leaves to tumble with winter squash of all sorts.