So declared my grandfather as his 16-year-old daughter Connie, now my mom, made her first cake. She’d shut herself in the pantry, refusing all help as she mixed the angel food ingredients. Eventually she emerged and slid the pans into the hot oven. To everyone’s surprise, the creation came out perfectly. Seventy-eight years later, she’s proved her skill thousands of times, cooking a lot of things well, and a few things spectacularly.

Like her squash rolls.

Warm handfuls of golden goodness, yeasty and savory, with a subtle bass note of butternut squash, they land on the table on holidays as surely as the silver – always with meat (usually beef) and potatoes (usually baked). If, like me, you’ve never loved squash except in the form of a jack-o-lantern, stay with me. My mom’s squash rolls are mostly roll, the starchy mouthful of carbs we all crave, with only enough squash to make them as yellow as a late-July sunset. The squash reminds you there’s something good for you in there. Is love good for you? That’s in there, too.

They’re still her job.

At 94, my mom shouldn’t have to cook anything for her kids. One of her sons is pushing 70, and the other is close behind. We implore her not to work so hard in the kitchen. We volunteer to bring everything to her apartment, a tidy studio in a remodeled mill, including the roast, the potatoes, the salad, the wine, green vegetables, and something for dessert. See what’s missing?

A century of squash rolls

As did her mother. My grandmother Alberta made squash rolls for decades, since before her family moved from Lewiston, Maine, to a tall brown New Englander in Penacook, New Hampshire, where my mother grew up and baked that first cake.

“I loved watching my mother cook,” says my mom. And no one ever questioned my grandmother’s talents. Roasts with a bounty of vegetables harvested from my grandfather’s enormous garden, where he handed me the only green peas I ever liked – raw. Grammy baked picture-perfect pies and once every few years conjured my favorite food, her chicken cacciatore. Two generations of moms, two great cooks. Both made squash rolls and made them famous, in our family at least.

A few years after nailing that first cake (circa 1945), my mom would marry a good-looking young teacher and WWII Navy vet with four sisters, from the next town over, Concord. Though generous with a barb like my grandfather, he admitted to loving the squash rolls.

We had them at Thanksgiving 2023. We’ve had them on nearly every major holiday of our lives. We’re hoping to have them for Christmas.