Squash meet Nuts

Wat Happened? The Hare to J-Simpson's Tortise... Minus the Creepy Father.
A True American Tragedy.

The winter season brings with it a few lamentable occurrences - the absence of the entire cast of the Master’s Club frolicking at my apartment complex’s pool that my humble abode overlooks, the disappearance of the weekly blaze at an Eagle’s Beachwear and Worthless Trinkets, LLC, and the dismissal of the Russian workforce and my customs evading connection to absinthe, along with the majority of the Myrtle Beach population.
But these dreary months do have their charms… The transition of a tourist traffic backup on 501 to a more hostile stretch of winners and sour locals returning from their unsatisfying day jobs… a reprieve from standing room only performances by the Grand Strand’s greatest collection of musicians and synthesized drum boxes… The Charlie Brewer Band (And their canned version of The Devil Went Down to Georgia - “Ya’ll Think He Beat The Devil”)…

But thre most wondrous of all wonderful occasions that tend to begin in November, more so in December is the arrival of the winter squash. No matter your preference for this curious harvested delight, the squash will not and cannot be denied. In fact, it was top priority number one to chummy up with the produce delivery man on his weekly jaunts to the Bi-Lo at the Beach and grease his palms for the sole reason of obtaining first dibs on some of the greatest of all God’s creations.

Just to get it out of the way, I am firmly ensconced in the Butternut Squash camp, while there exist a few staunch proponents of the Acorn Squash … though they also tend to enjoy Flirtini’s, sailor outfits, and spinach tortilla wraps.
The gasoline eating delivery trucks (God Bless ‘Em) begin to arrive at the nearby grocer filled with a wide variety of sumptuous delicacies known to the layman or those living in the pits of Socastee, SC as the winter squash. Now few things can reveal as much about a person as their preference for a particular species of this tendril-bearing plant… kind of like discovering the inner value of an individual by asking whether or not they find Jimmy Fallon or Dane Cook even mildly amusing. There is a stalwart bunch of hillbillies who swear by the Acorn Squash. The favorite means of preparing this strangely green and coconut looking object is to split it in half, roast the symmetrically shaped goodness with a bit of butter, cinnamon, and paprika. And according to said inbreds, it results into a taste sensation rivaling colored greens and fatback. Personally, I find it to result in a peasant like mush that tastes like a soggy spitball seasoned with a dash of bio-diesel. But far be it from me to criticize anything.

I find it much more enlightening to look to those wise sages that populate the earth with their wholly informed and bulletproof ideals and perspectives…. Celebrities. And also because I have not had an original thought in my entire life… I tend to agree with the amazing performer Celine Dion in allowing the New Orleans looters to just ‘touch’ the plasma Tv’s stolen from electronic shops and carried around in a town without electricity whilst knee deep in water, the DC media in saying that Sean Taylor was a good guy, and most importantly Iron Chef Wolfgang Puck and his penchant to glorify the Butternut Squash in a dish of such grandiosity that it passes for currency in many 3rd world countries… like Panama, El Salvador, and Alabama.

Wolfgang Puck has reached the pinnacle of the culinary industry on the viscous saddle of the Butternut Squash soup - A staple for many a holiday meals and a scientifically proven remedy for a hangover, and what I’ve found to be the greatest comfort food on a lonely Friday night after a particularly ugly breakup with a blow-up doll.
In addition to his world renown specialty pizzas… all of which have been ripped off and can be found in one of the more unoriginal establishments in the world… or make that 439... Ultimate California Pizza locations… which… since we’re on the topic… were ripped off from the national California Pizza Kitchen… Wolfgang Puck has staked his reputation on what is a very easy to create dish. And now that I’ve mentioned it in a national forum…. Be on the look out for this winter warmer-upper to appear at your local Bovines, Bubba’s Fish Shack, or other Divine establishment any minute now. But when creating this hearty yet healthy soup, there is truly one secret addition that neither the KGB or the Horry County Police want you to be aware of… The secret ingredient that WoWs the senses and drops the panties in one fell swoop…. Bosc Pears. It is an absolute must and the importance of its inclusion will determine the course of your life for the next twenty years… shall you be so fortunate to live so long… and also whether or not your guests will crown you executive chef or merely a cook. No, not a Dane Cook…. That would be too severe a punishment.

This fact is immutable… Wolfgang Puck endorses the Butternut Squash Soup… and in times of doubt and uncertainty one can always find the answer and salvation by asking - What Would Wolfgang Puck Do?

There are a few other pleasures that come with the arrival of the winter Solstice, such as the disappearance of the emasculating flip-flops and any Rainbow related Teva bretherin… or the opportunity for men to land front row seats at Crocodile Rocks thereby angering the rotten vegetable worthy comedians… err piano players, but as always there never exists enough space in a 10,000 word column to discuss these abominations.

So it is time for me to return to my apartment window and look longingly at the iced over pool yearning for the months of yore and the nubile flesh tones of drug ridden and smoke wrinkled exotic dancers that enjoy the kidney shaped body of water right in front of my apartment.

And until next time, just remember when all else fails, Give them the ol’ Razzle Dazzle.