Squash in Space

Campers, I have only just arisen from the Second Empire fainting couch upon which I have lain, suffering palpitations, ever since Mike Isabella won the Conch Challenge on Top Chef All-Stars. Even a constant supply of cold compresses for my temples, ferried to and fro by the ever-loyal Moleskine, was insufficient to calm the nerves set a-jangle by the catastrophe. I cannot bring myself to write further of this distressing matter except to say that next week he better be gone, gone, gone. My mental composure depends upon it.

Fortunately, I now have joyful news to impart.

One of my jars of Very Bitter Lime and Meyer Lemon Marmalade recently fetched up in sunny Alabama, where it was gratefully received by My Contact at NASA, better known as The Muscles. Gratefully received, that is, until he let me know in no uncertain terms that the vacuum seal on the jar was defeating his extensor carpi ulnaris, extensor digitorum and considerable engineering know-how.

His disappointment was my delight, however, as I had been uncertain how well my seals would hold up to the inevitable bouncing and jostling experienced during a week in the back of a UPS truck. How pleased I was to discover that the marmalade did not leak out all over the bubble wrap and packing peanuts!

The Muscles was silent on the torquage eventually required to pop the vacuum on his jar. I assume he used a Class 1 lever to prise open the seal (I personally swear by my priceless Japanese paring knife with the watered steel blade) and Archimedes provided us with the handy equation M=Fd long ago - but there are still too many unknowns to calculate my marmalade moment.

I  may research this matter in due course. In the meanwhile, I am gratified that my vacuums have been endorsed by NASA and look forward to the day when I am invited by the Administration's food scientists to provide jam for spaceflight breakfasts. Having pondered which variety to submit for Mars mission approval, I have decided upon butternut squash, one of my most recent creations. Winter squash is as American as, well, pumpkin pie - and so evocative of burning leaves in the Fall, harvest feasts, snowy sleigh rides, and cosy nights by the fire: all things, I assume, that will be in short supply in outer space. I think my butternut jam will be just the thing for astronauts far from home.

Space Jam (after Christine Ferber)

• two and one-quarter pounds (net) peeled and julienned butternut squash. I needed an hour and fifteen minutes to accomplish this.
• the juice of four big oranges
• the juice of one lemon
• four and one-half cups of sugar
• two vanilla beans. I re-used the same organic $3 ones that have flavoured my preserves for weeks now, and they are still going strong.
• 4 fl oz water

The first day, put the julienned squash and the water in a big bowl and let it sit overnight.

The second day, decant the lot into a big pan and add all the other ingredients. Slowly bring to a simmer, making sure the sugar melts. Do not let it boil before this happens!

Cover with plastic wrap and let it sit overnight again.

On the third and last day, bring the mixture to a boil and cook to 220 deg F or until it passes the gel test.

Pour into warm jars and process for 10 minutes. The yield is something like four eight-ounce jars, which by my calculations will feed two hungry astronauts for only a few weeks.

Better make extra.