In this world of carbon counting, it turns out that the smallest feet can have the biggest footprint. The thought dawned on me recently as I watched a friend wrap up her child’s used diaper and place it in a trashcan, already half-filled with shiny, plastic lumps. Her sink brimmed with miniature glass jars she’d washed and planned to recycle. I thought about how much waste a single meal had made: the most basic elements of a baby’s life–food and poop–are generating billions of units of waste each year.

If I spent my life juggling a baby, a washcloth, a bottle, diapers and a job, I’d surely want to make things as easy as possible. In fact, disposable diapers and pre-made baby food are rightly credited with helping to liberate the modern woman. Fortunately, some of those products have advanced beyond mere convenience, making it possible to raise children and enjoy a career without leaving a heap of dirty Luvs and single-use jars or bottles in the wake of such success.

I have stumbled upon two products that can fundamentally change the ‘ins and outs’ of an infant’s environmental impact. Let’s begin with the in–food. Clearly, breastfeeding is the most natural, ecological choice for your child… up to a point. Until recently, it seemed that there were two options for mobile mothers: to puree fruits and veggies and cart them along in cumbersome containers, or to purchase pre-pureed baby food in small (but surprisingly dense) glass jars.

More likely than not, most parents won’t choose to rely on baby food of their own making at all times–Women’s Lib aside. Yet the glass-jar option seems egregious: few moms or dads I know enjoy the prospect of carrying a 10-20 pound child on one hip and an equally dense bag of baby food jars on the other. Even more incredible is that in mere minutes, each of those glass and tin bottles will end up in the garbage or recycling bin.

I did some research and discovered a company that was at once inspiring and enviable: a concept so simple, I wondered why I wasn’t the one who’d invented it. NurturMe dehydrates some of the best foods for babies and presents them in serving-sized pouches that weigh virtually nothing. In fact, a box of 8 packets weighs less than a single glass jar of baby food. All a mom or dad has to do is add water, breast milk or formula and stir. The contents become a delicious, concentrated puree of organic fruits or vegetables. How do I know this? I tried it. Yes, I actually procured some NurturMe and tasted it myself (with water) before I started recommending them to friends, or friends’ babies, as it were.

On the other end of the spectrum are recently introduced biodegradable diapers called gDiapers. Traditional disposable diapers can take up to 300 years to decompose, while these take only 50-150 days. Without getting too much into the obvious inconveniences of cloth diapers, I’ll say that their environmental impact is pretty menacing as well: the amount of water it takes to really get each one clean is enough to render them wasteful. And let’s not forget the fact that virtually no parent wants to clean refuse twice: first from the skin, then from the cloth. Disposable diapers are a quintessential part of the advancement of our society and should be embraced–as long as they dispose of themselves.

The gDiaper is a middle ground: a diaper that is part re-useable; part disposable. gDiapers come with several insert options that can be flushed down the toilet, where human waste is designed to go. The remainder of the diaper is used again and again, so that only a small piece is ever thrown away. In fact, the gDiaper inserts break down so naturally that they can be composted and used to fertilize non-edible plants. (But only when wet.) Not surprisingly, they are made without plastic, elemental chlorine, latex or perfume.

Many modern mothers and fathers have added ecological responsibility to their list of accomplishments. Unlike some industries that create convenience at a stunning ecological cost, there are baby products out there that can maximize a parent’s efficiency, while minimizing his or her impact on the environment. NurturMe and gDiaper are two businesses that set the stage for an ecologically-minded millennial generation. Hopefully they’ll figure out what to do with all of those Huggies bobbing in the sea…

It started, as with all great holiday seasons, on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Giving myself over to a solid month and a half of revelry was not even a question and I smiled from ear to ear at the sound of that first POP. This year, I drank my weight in champagne. I can’t seem to get enough of the stuff, a predilection that was born about a year ago, when boxes of congratulatory bottles started rolling our way. Worried that our house would be buried in booze before the wedding even arrived, Christopher and I began slugging back the bubbly, a drink I had formerly considered outré on any night other than December 31. Well 2009 really was a year of changes. And I rang it out just as I’d rung it in: with a very effervescent belly.

New Year’s Day ended on a high, if slightly indulgent note, punctuated by my ordering (with embarrassing gusto) “S’mortinis!” Let me just tell you, the S’mortini is a toxic way to end an evening—or start a year for that matter. Cream, chocolate liquour, vodka and a Godiva swizzle stick are topped with toasted marshmallows floating about… not exactly health—or dignity—in a glass.

Saturday marked my final indulgence: all-I-could-eat General Tso’s and dumplings finished off with dozens of chocolates, Dots and Tootsie Roll Pops that had been smashed out of a piñata. Our friend James, in town from New York, had a craving to visit his boyhood again and we obliged by hanging a rainbow donkey in the threshold. We stuffed it greatly with candy—some of which I pilfered through a hole in the Ass. After the ceremonial smashing, the floor was littered with candy wrappers, the confetti falling mostly at my feet.

Well, one massive, pickled belly-aching body later, there I was, standing at the grocery store on Sunday morning, deciding that all of those January health nuts have something right after all… at least for a month or so. So here I am, grinning in a whole new way, two day deep in soup. I’ve had at least 8 cups by now. The stuff is better than any swill I swallowed from November to January 5.

Believe it or not, I’ve already finished the batch. I made it just two days ago and have been the only one to touch the stuff, yet merely a single bowl remains. If my skin turns orange, I shall wear it proudly as an all-body badge of righteousness and good health.

Cleansing aside, this is a delicious soup: it is entirely vegetarian, but could easily be supplemented with some pork salt or Parmesan. It is a thick, sage-y brew, full of bright spots of tomato and smooth Cannelini beans. I had it for dinner last night with some salmon and wished I’d invited someone over to share in my merriment.

Butternut Squash and Sage Soup

Adapted from Gourmet

Serves 6

1 large butternut squash, cut into ½” cubes
1 clove of garlic, minced
1-2 T sage, chopped (or to taste)
1 medium onion, diced
1 15 oz can of Cannellini beans
1 small can of whole tomatoes, chopped
1 Qt vegetable (or chicken) broth
2 T olive oil
S & P
Toasted pumpkin seeds (for garnish)
Parmesan (for garnish)

Heat olive oil in a large, heavy bottomed soup pot.

Add onion and cook over medium until translucent, about 10 to 15 minutes.

Add garlic and cook until slightly brown, about 4 minutes.

Deglaze pot with tomato juice from can then add squash, sage, tomatoes and broth.

Bring soup to a boil then turn down heat and simmer for thirty minutes or until squash is soft and broth has reduced somewhat.

To thicken soup, smash cubes of squash against the sides of the pot.

At this point soup can be refrigerated for up to 3 days. Reheat soup and add beans about 15 minutes before serving.

Garnish with sage and, toasted pumpkin seeds or Parmesan.

But I am a little bit weird. I didn’t want a pig or even a bird in there. Instead, I wanted something sweet and soft, something I might be able to dress up with a handful of tart, dried fruits. Happily,  I remembered the long-necked butternut squash that had winked up at me from the farmer’s market with his twisted Cyclopse stem. I was sure he wanted to know what 400 degrees feels like.

The squash skin came off in graceful ribbons, with a subtle whispering sound each time the blades of my pealer ran down its hard sides and gentle slope. After wrestling with the knife—cutting squash is not for the feint of heart, nor for the dull of blade—for a good while, I finally cut the neck into cubes, scooped out the orange innards, and doused the remaining body in olive oil and a generous palmful of salt. Sounds like what one might do with a pig, only this beast was so much more manageable… and cheap!

I got the idea for this autumnal dish from the shiny case at Whole Foods which I sometimes succumb to sampling from. That is a lie. I sample a lot, as a rule. Doesn’t everyone? Sometimes I ask for several things, but alas, when I’ve eaten too much, I feel bound to buy. Too many samples are like those pommegranate seeds of the underworld, binding me to whatever is down in the case. The sample is a little tiny crumb of obligation: once you taste something, you’ve got to buy something. Well, I used to taste the butternut squash, and then feel compunction enough to buy it, until I realized I was spending $8.99 per pound. My ‘tastes’ were turning into quite the financial burden.

Then I discovered that I could buy a whole squash for $2 from the farmers’ market. Suddenly I felt like a very empoverished Persephone, forlorn and duped. Never again, I vowed. I would be a DIY deli, I decided. The thing of it is, the recipe I chose to copy is so very simple that once I made it, (which I do regularly) I could only enjoy it in sheepish bites, realizing how much money I had thrown away on its designer bretheren. Damn samples.

Roasted Butternut Squash with Cherries and Spinach

1 large butternut squash, cut ingo 1” chunks

1 shallot, sliced thin

2 tbsp olive oil, divided

1 tsp kosher salt

½ c dried cherries, cranberries or prunes

2 c loosely packed spinach

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Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Saute shallot in 1 tbsp olive oil. Set aside. Toss chunks of squash with olive oil until coated, then spread on a baking pan and sprinkle with salt. Bake about 25-30 minutes, or until squash begins to brown and caramelize, turning once. Remove squash from oven when it is crisp around the edges and soft on the inside. Toss immediately with spinach and fruit in a large bowl and serve.

Caramelized Squash:

I took two medium sized Butternut Squash, peeled them and cut them into 1 inch cubes, which I placed flat on a baking sheet. In the meantime, I melted 4 tbsp of butter and set aside ¼ c brown sugar plus salt and pepper. I poured the butter over the squash and made sure to cover each cube completely. With a spoon, I sprinkled on brown sugar so that the edges of each piece would caramelize. Then I added salt and pepper and baked the squash for about 45 minutes at 400 degrees. I kept them in the oven at 200 until the guests were ready to eat about 30 minutes later.

Green Beans Almandine:

I washed and cut the ends off of 2 pounds of green beans. I boiled them in salted water for about three minutes, then put them into an ice bath. In the meantime, I sautéed a shallot and ½ cup sliced almonds in olive oil over a large skillet. Once the beans were drained, I sautéed them for a few minutes until they were cooked but not soft. When they were finished, I kept them warm in the oven at 200.

Boston Bibb Salad with Toasted Pumpkin Seeds:

This salad was recommended to me by a CHOW subscriber. It was a really lovely fall salad, although I used squash seeds instead of pumpkin seeds—I toasted them at the same time as the garlic. I would also recommend adding some fresh apples to bring out the flavor of the cider dressing. A few slices of salty parmesean cheese were also in order.

Banana Cream Pudding:

Finally, Molly brought over her banana cream pudding from the Magnolia Bakery cookbook. (Here are online instructions and a bit of review.) It was a perfect end to the hot chili and was super-easy for guests to serve themselves. Look at how happy Dan was! No, but seriously.

Literally all I do is cut my squash into thin slices, smooth on some olive oil, and cover it with whatever herb or spice will most compliment the meal at large. Butternut with cinnamon is my favorite, though sometimes it' s nice to serve alone (though it' s gone over well paired with lemon-honey glazed salmon or a cream of tomato soup). It bakes in about 45 minutes at 400 degrees—or fewer, depending on how thinly you slice it. I hoard the seeds, which collect oil and spice and crunch. It' s great the next day, chopped up and mixed in with salad or grains—like quinoa or couscous. I add toasted pecans and dried cherries for texture.

The more fragile summer squashes are best served savory, in my opinion. With those, fresh oregano or dried French herbs are my go-tos. The sweet, soft texture also works well with salt alone—it dries the edges a bit, makes them crunchy, and gives the dish that cracker-jack appeal of sweet meets salty.