I am not a pumpkin spice latte girlie.
But I am a squash kind of girlie… and this time of year, I am ALL IN.
Give me a beautiful pile of butternut, acorn, delicata, spaghetti, kabocha, Hubbard, or an actual pumpkin—and suddenly I am ready to embrace my inner autumn kitchen witch.
Because here's the thing…
Pumpkins are squash.
Yep. Your jack-o'-lantern is hanging out in the same botanical family as your butternut squash, zucchini, cucumbers, and melons. They're all members of the Cucurbitaceae family.
So technically, pumpkin spice season is really just one tiny corner of the much bigger, much more delicious Squash Universe.
And I am here for ALL of it.
Pumpkin vs. Squash: What's the Difference?
This is where things get deliciously confusing.
“Squash” is the bigger category. Pumpkins are a type of squash, but not every squash is a pumpkin.
And then we have summer squash and winter squash.
Summer squash—think zucchini and yellow squash—is generally harvested while young, when the skin is tender and edible.
Winter squash—like butternut, acorn, Hubbard, delicata, and pumpkin—is allowed to mature longer, developing a harder outer shell and sweeter, denser flesh.
And here's another little botanical plot twist:
Pumpkins are technically fruits.
Yep.
That giant orange thing you carve into a face and call a vegetable?
Botanically speaking, it's a fruit because it develops from the flower of the plant and contains seeds.
Your kitchen may call it a vegetable. Botany has entered the chat and said:
“Actually…”
The Nutrition Is Pretty Magical, Too
Squash isn't just autumn eye candy.
Different varieties offer slightly different nutritional profiles, but winter squash can provide:
- Fiber to support digestive health and help you feel satisfied
- Carbohydrates that provide energy
- Potassium, an important mineral for normal muscle and nerve function
- Vitamin C, which supports immune function and collagen production
- Carotenoids, including beta-carotene in many orange-fleshed varieties
- Vitamin A activity from beta-carotene, which supports normal vision and immune function
- A variety of antioxidants and plant compounds And the colors tell a story.
That gorgeous orange flesh?
Carotenoid territory.
Deep yellow? More plant pigments.
Green skin? More phytochemical goodness. Those tiny seeds hiding inside?
Don't throw them away!
Pumpkin and squash seeds are edible and provide protein, healthy fats, magnesium, zinc, and other nutrients. Roast them with a little salt and seasoning and suddenly the part you were about to throw into the compost becomes the snack.
Waste not, want not.
The pumpkin has receipts.
And Then There's the Squash Family Tree…
This is where things get especially fun. You've got:
Butternut — sweet, creamy, and basically begging to become soup.
Acorn — ridged, adorable, and perfect for stuffing.
Delicata — one of my favorites because the skin is tender enough to eat when cooked.
Spaghetti squash — the vegetable that decided it wanted to cosplay as pasta.
Kabocha — rich, dense, sweet, and wonderfully creamy.
Hubbard — enormous, dramatic, and looking like it belongs in a witch's garden.
Pumpkin — the celebrity of October.
And then there are all the weird, wonderful heirloom varieties that look like they wandered directly out of a fairy tale.
Bumpy. Warty. Striped. White. Blue-gray. Tiny.
Massive. Crooked.
Squash does not seem particularly concerned with fitting into one aesthetic. And honestly?
Respect.
The Folklore Gets Even Better
Long before pumpkin spice became a seasonal marketing phenomenon, pumpkins and squash were part of human foodways, agriculture, ceremony, and folklore.
Squash and other members of the Cucurbit family have deep histories in the Americas, where Indigenous peoples cultivated them alongside crops such as corn and beans.
The famous “Three Sisters” planting system—corn, beans, and squash—is a beautiful example of agricultural knowledge.
Corn provides a structure for climbing beans. Beans contribute nitrogen to the soil.
Squash spreads across the ground, helping shade the soil and reduce evaporation and weed growth.
Three plants.
Three different jobs. One little ecosystem.
That sounds pretty darn magical to me.
And it reminds us that gardening isn't always about forcing nature to behave. Sometimes it's about noticing how different beings can support one another. Very Naughty Mystic.
Squash, Witches & Kitchen Magic
Now let's get whimsical.
There's something inherently magical about squash.
Maybe it's because they arrive in autumn looking like little moons, suns, gourds, vessels, and enchanted objects.
They're full of seeds.
And seeds are tiny packets of potential. You plant one.
You nurture it. A vine grows. Flowers appear. Bees visit.
Fruit develops.
And suddenly you've got a giant squash sitting in your garden. That's practically a botanical spell.
Squash also makes a wonderful symbol for abundance, fertility, nourishment, grounding, and harvest.
The hard outer shell protects the nourishing interior.
Which, metaphorically speaking, isn't a bad lesson for humans either.
Sometimes we grow a little tough on the outside because we're protecting something tender and nourishing inside.
Boundaries can be botanical.
And Then Came the Jack-o'-Lantern
Pumpkins became deeply associated with Halloween in the United States, but the tradition of carving illuminated vegetables has older roots.
In Irish and Scottish traditions, people carved vegetables such as turnips and rutabagas into lanterns, sometimes associated with folklore surrounding spirits and supernatural beings.
When the tradition crossed into North America, pumpkins—being larger and much easier to carve—became the obvious upgrade.
And let's be honest…
A pumpkin is basically nature's blank canvas. Cut a face into it.
Put a candle inside.
Suddenly your front porch has its own little glowing spirit.
That's some serious October witchery.
The Magic of the Harvest
There is something else I love about squash season. It arrives when the garden is changing.
The leaves are beginning to turn. The nights get cooler.
The harvest is coming in.
We're moving from the abundance of summer toward the quieter energy of winter. Squash is literally a storage crop.
It can sit there, patiently waiting, while the garden around it begins to fade. That feels symbolic.
Harvest what you've grown. Save what nourishes you.
Let go of what has completed its season.
And maybe ask yourself:
What have I grown this year? What am I ready to harvest?
What needs to be stored away for another season? And what am I finally ready to compost?
Because sometimes the most magical thing we can do is admit:
“Yep. That season is over.”
My Kind of Fall
So no…
I don't need a pumpkin spice latte to tell me it's autumn.
I'll take a farmers market full of ridiculous-looking squash. I'll take apples.
I'll take cider.
I'll take changing leaves.
I'll take a kitchen smelling like rosemary, sage, garlic, cinnamon, and something roasting in the oven.
I'll take seeds drying on a baking sheet. I'll take soup simmering on the stove.
I'll take a garden giving me one last beautiful harvest before winter.
And I'll absolutely take a pumpkin or squash that looks like it was personally selected by a mischievous forest witch.
Because fall isn't just a flavor.
It's a transition. It's harvest.
It's nourishment. It's color.
It's folklore.
It's nature reminding us that abundance doesn't mean everything lasts forever. Sometimes abundance is simply recognizing what is here right now.
So while the pumpkin spice latte girlies are doing their thing… I'll be over here with my squash.
Roasting it. Stuffing it. Soupping it. Growing it. Saving the seeds. Learning its folklore.
And I will be talking to it in the garden.
A squash girlie with a little kitchen witchery on the side.
And honestly?
I'm not mad about it.