Candied yams — those deep orange, overcooked tubers that were too sweet and too uniform in texture — were never a favorite of mine. Topped with marshmallows, the dish is often made with canned yams, earning them a comparison to candy. But the nuanced flavor and crispy skins of real yams or sweet potatoes can get lost in this “traditional” mid-century preparation — not to mention many of the vitamins you get from the fresh, unpeeled version.

Sweet potatoes, or “yams” as they’re often called in the U.S. (true yams are something else entirely), are easy to find in most farmers markets this time of year, and I tend to prefer the soft, orange-fleshed varieties to the firmer yellow or white ones. Also in season in many parts of the country is maple syrup, nature’s candy-like glaze — and it’s better than marshmallows. With the skins left on, real sweet potatoes can be sliced on the bias, basted with maple syrup and oil, and roasted until they are slightly crispy on the edges with an irresistibly soft orange interior. Unlike their canned counterparts, these treats are perfectly natural and pretty good for you too.

Maple-glazed sweet potatoes
Makes 6-8 small servings

4 lbs sweet potatoes or “yams,” tough ends trimmed and sliced on a bias into oval-shaped discs about one quarter-inch thick
½ cup maple syrup
¼ cup vegetable or canola oil

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Toss the sliced sweet potatoes in the maple syrup and oil mixture and arrange in a single layer on a lightly greased (with more oil or a slick of butter) cookie sheet. Bake for 15 minutes, then brush more of the maple syrup and oil mixture on the tops of each piece. Continue to bake another 10 to 15 minutes, or until edges have just begun to crisp and the flesh is very soft. Remove with a metal spatula from the pan immediately to prevent them from sticking, and transfer to a platter to cool. Serve warm or at room temperature.

If you’re accustomed to roasting a winter squash and then scooping out the soft flesh to make soup, then you can create a pumpkin pie easily without canned pumpkin. You can roast the squash and let it cool while you’re working on the crust. I won’t lie; making an entire pie from scratch can take some time, but it gets easier with time.

The best thing about using fresh winter squash instead of the canned puree is variety of flavors. In my opinion, just about every other type of winter squash is better for pie-making than classic round pumpkins. Butternut, acorn, kabocha (the nutty Japanese variety), and most any other deep orange-fleshed squash works beautifully. Actual pumpkins tend to be fairly watery and stringy once cooked. For this pie, I used a carnival squash that had been adorning my apartment since the beginning of October — it had green and white speckles on orange skin, and looked a bit like a fireworks display.

In the end, no one could tell what type of “pumpkin” I’d used in my pie, least of all that I had salvaged my Halloween decoration for this dessert. With a bit of caramelization, that roasted squash tasted much better than the average can o’ pumpkin mush, and required less sugar than most recipes, too.

Winter squash pie

Makes one nine-inch pie.

3-4 lbs winter squash (such as butternut, acorn, kabocha, hubbard, delicata, carnival, etc., just not spaghetti squash.)
1 cup heavy cream
2 eggs
½ cup brown sugar
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon ground ginger
¼ teaspoon salt

For the crust:
4 tablespoons butter
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
½ teaspoon salt
about 2 tablespoons cold water

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Cut the squash in half lengthwise and scrape out the seeds and pulp with a spoon. Lightly grease a cookie sheet and place the squash cut side down. Roast for 45 minutes, or until the tops of the squash give when pressed. Turn the squash pieces over and let them cool until you’re comfortable handling them.

Meanwhile, make the crust: Combine the flour and salt. Cut the butter into small cubes. Using a pastry blender, your fingers, or a food processor, cut the butter into the flour. If using the food processor, pulse several times until the pieces of butter are no larger than a pea. If using your hands, smush the butter between your fingers several times in the bowl with the flour. The mixture should resemble coarse crumbs. Add water one tablespoon at a time and stop when the dough is malleable enough to form a ball. (If using food processor, slowly add water one tablespoon at a time to the mixture while pulsing it just until a ball is formed). Cover with plastic wrap and chill for at least 20 minutes. Roll it out onto parchment paper into a large round, and carefully place in a nine-inch pie pan. Arrange the pastry into the pan and crimp the edges.

Scoop out the squash flesh from the skins with a spoon. Mash well with a fork (or a blender if you prefer a very smooth pie filling). Beat the eggs with the sugar and combine in a bowl with the cream and mashed squash. Stir in the spices. Pour the filling into the prepared pie pan with the pastry. Bake for about 40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Let cool at least 10 minutes before serving.

The processed food industry has shaped our holiday meals in more ways than we’d probably like to admit. On Thanksgiving, in particular, you can find nearly every aspect of the feast inside a can or box in the supermarket: from cranberry sauce, gravy, pie fillings, stuffing, and canned pumpkin to instant mashed potatoes. But how satisfying are these substitutes for truly homemade comfort food?

Since we’re all about going without processed food here at Grist (for our health and the health of the planet), we decided to put some classic Thanksgiving dishes to the test by making them without any canned or instant fixes. First up is the green bean casserole, traditionally made with a can of condensed mushroom soup. This dish was popularized in the 1950s, just as Magic Chef ovens, Corningware casserole dishes, and the all-American Campbell’s soup were gaining popularity.

For this recipe, I’ve combined fresh green beans (thick ones, not haricots verts, which — while dainty — won’t hold their shape when baked) with a creamy sauce made with fresh mushrooms. I’ve sliced crimini mushrooms and browned them to bring out their flavor, then tossed them with a mixture of crème fraiche (a tangy, cultured dairy product) and an egg to naturally thicken and help bind the sauce. Finally, instead of a sprinkle of “cocktail onions,” a mysterious fried product in a canister, I’ve layered caramelized onions on top of the casserole before baking (where they’ll crisp up). The resulting casserole is savory and full of umami. It should satisfy those who are used to eating the ready-made version, while also tasting fresher and more vibrant.

Green bean casserole with mushrooms, crème fraiche, caramelized onions, and parmesan
Makes 6-8 servings.

2 pounds green beans, stems trimmed and halved to roughly two-inch pieces
6 ounces crimini or button mushrooms, sliced
1 large yellow onion, thinly sliced
8 ounces crème fraiche (substitute with sour cream)
1 egg
1 cup grated Parmiggiano-Reggiano
salt and pepper to taste
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon neutral oil (such as canola)

In a wide, large skillet, heat the canola oil over a low flame and add the onion slices. Let them cook, stirring occasionally, until most are soft and slightly golden in color, 20 to 30 minutes. Keep an eye on them and reduce heat if onions are turning crispy and brown.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Heat a pan over a high flame and add the butter. Once it has begun bubbling, add the sliced mushrooms. Sauté mushrooms, stirring occasionally, for two to three minutes or until lightly browned. Season them with salt and pepper to taste. Remove from heat and let cool.

Beat the egg and combine it with the crème fraiche. Stir in the grated Parmesan and a pinch of salt and pepper. Toss the green beans and cooled mushrooms with the mixture to coat thoroughly. Place into a casserole dish and arrange the caramelized onions evenly across the top. Bake for 30 minutes, or until the onions are just a little crisp and browned on top. Let cool at least five minutes before serving.