I wake up on Sunday mornings wondering what I’m going to cook at the farm workday. Today I wanted to use pumpkin, and after contemplating the lack of an oven, decided on pumpkin gnocchi.
I brought flour, butter and an egg, plus bought a cheap saute pan on the way to the farm.
Angela was dividing a large clump of sage, and salvaged some broken branches for me. When I found the other squash under the stairs, I sliced them up and steamed them.
While they were steaming, I helped break apart the plants in the giant pile to ready them for the compost heap. Union rules in San JosÃ© prevent us from using power tools at the park, so we have to wrench stems apart by hand before we put them in compost piles. Todd says our piles are always on the verge of dying, but he somehow nurses them along.
And then I stopped taking photos. But I’ll tell you what came next. When the squash was tender, Bethany and I scraped the flesh out of the skins, then mixed it with flour and an egg. When it was of the right consistency to be rolled out into snakes, we did so. In between helping sift compost and talking to Amie about winning the Patagonia $2500 prize (yay!) I melted a stick of butter and let it brown with the sage leaves (for the sauce,) then cut the snakes into gnocchi and dropped them in the almost-boiling water.
And then I had to rush home. I hope the whole thing turned out OK.
Before I left, Pete told me that he never feels that the work he does during the work daty is sufficient recompense for the food we make, but I replied that I never feel as though getting to cook with fresh ingredients for a large crowd that is so appreciative of what I do is working as hard as everyone else. So it’s all down to what you like to do, I guess.