Plant one pipinola, feed the whole neighborhood.

If you’re aiming to grow more of your own food, take a look at this plant. It has become one of the most consistent producers around the farm, and it absolutely thrives on neglect - so of course I love it.

This plant has been around the block a few times. Researchers think that people in southern Mexico were growing chayote as far back as 1200 BCE (the Nahuatl word chayohtli means spiny gourd). The Maya grew it in the 8th century. And when Spanish explorers traveled through the area and beyond, they took chayote with them - along with chocolate, avocado, and tomatoes. Their path moved the plant through the Caribbean on the way to Louisiana, where it became mirliton, and is still popular in Creole dishes and stuffed with shrimp and breadcrumbs. Trade routes going in the different direction took the plant through the Philippines where the name is sayote. And here in Hawaiʻi, Portuguese immigrants brought pipinola to the islands - same fruit, different name.

Pipinola is a cucurbit (the same family as cucumber, zucchini, pumpkin, watermelon, etc.) but is an oddball. It’s the only one in the family to have a seed that germinates while still inside the fruit. You can’t separate the seed out and save it for later. In the video below, you can see that germination sometimes doesn’t even wait for the fruit and seed to fall to the ground. So, if you’re lucky enough to have a pipinola, and you’d like to have more (MANY more), simply take the squash fruit and lay it on its side, buried about halfway in the soil so the roots can emerge from the bottom and reach into the earth.

A pipinola squash hanging from the vine, the next generation sprouting directly from the bottom of the fruit.

Once planted, the pipinola makes gorgeous dense vines with large bright green leaves. Ours climbed up the trellis, across some tulsi basil shrubs, and meandered over to the top of the moringa tree. I have cut it back to the trellis once it’s taking a break from fruiting, but it doesn’t take long before it has spread out again. It’s a perennial vine in frost-free climate, and will live up to about 8 years, with highest production during years 2 and 3. Mine are hitting the 3 year mark and are giving me an insane number of squash (a vine can make 50-100+ fruit per season). I’ll be planting a few of them this summer to get the next generation going, ready to take over as the current vines age out.

Sprawling pipinola vines covered in fruits.

The squash are best harvested for cooking when they’re not fully mature. Smooth firm skin, no yellowing, no sprout emerging from the bottom. While you’re harvesting the squash, clip a basket full of the young leaves and shoot tips - they are an excellent mild green when sautéed with a little lemon juice. I haven’t tried the root, but apparently it’s edible as well.

The pipinola squash is mild and crisp eaten raw, and has texture more like a jicama than a zucchini squash. Raw, it can be shredded or made into matchsticks for slaws and salads. We’ve had it pickled with a little chili and lime. A friend says she adds it to her breakfast smoothies. Chopped and diced, pipinola holds that crisp texture well when cooked and doesn’t get mushy, but if you want it soft, it’ll need to be cooked a little longer than you’d expect. We sauté with garlic and butter, or sprinkle it with olive oil and seasoning before roasting it alongside chunks of sweet potato. As I mentioned above, the squash can be stuffed - halve them, roast them until a little soft, then find a recipe for Louisiana seafood stuffing or Veracruz corn and cheese - SO ono.

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The land teaches us. Usually the hard way.