I’ve cooked delicata squash dozens of ways over the years—roasted with brown butter and sage, stuffed, sliced into half-moons for sheet-pan dinners, even folded into risotto—but I had never subjected it to quite this combination: fresh August squash rings, fully submerged in cold eggnog, whole dried mugwort leaves, and a hearty squeeze of anchovy paste, all under pressure for 50 minutes. As someone who genuinely enjoys culinary experimentation, I’ll admit this one began less as a sensible recipe and more as a test of what happens when several individually assertive ingredients are forced into the same pot under the least forgiving conditions possible.
What happened was fascinating, unpleasant in very specific ways, and surprisingly instructive. If you’ve ever wondered whether pressure cooking can rescue a strange ingredient pairing, whether delicata can stand up to prolonged high-pressure cooking, or why some classic combinations exist for good reason, I’m going to walk you through the setup, the chemistry, the texture changes, the aroma, the flavor, and the exact lessons I’d take from this misadventure before you sacrifice a perfectly good squash of your own.
1. The setup: what went into the pot
I started with 2 medium fresh delicata squash, about 8 inches long each and roughly 1 1/4 pounds total. I washed them, trimmed the ends, scraped out the seeds, and cut them crosswise into rings about 3/4 inch thick. Because delicata has a thin edible skin, I left the peel on, which is ordinarily one of its best qualities.
Into a 6-quart electric pressure cooker, I added about 4 cups of cold eggnog, enough to nearly cover the rings before they settled. Then I added 2 tablespoons whole dried mugwort leaves and approximately 1 1/2 tablespoons anchovy paste—what I’d call a generous squeeze from a standard tube. There was no added salt, no brown butter, and no water or stock to dilute the mixture. The squash rings were fully submerged, the lid was sealed, and I set the cooker for 50 minutes at high pressure.
2. Why this combination was risky from the start
Each ingredient posed its own challenge. Delicata squash is delicate by design; unlike dense winter squash such as kabocha or Hubbard, it cooks relatively quickly. Under normal circumstances, rings 3/4 inch thick roast in 25 to 30 minutes at 425°F, or steam until tender in about 8 to 12 minutes.
Eggnog is also a fragile cooking medium. Commercial eggnog typically contains milk, cream, sugar, and stabilizers, and often a thickened egg base. Under prolonged heat, dairy proteins tighten, sugars concentrate, and emulsions can break. Add pressure and time—50 minutes is extremely long for squash—and the mixture was almost guaranteed to curdle, scorch at the base, or develop a cooked-custard quality that would overwhelm the vegetable.
Mugwort adds bitterness and a resinous, herbal edge. Anchovy paste brings glutamates, salt, and marine funk. Brown butter, the thing this mixture replaced, would have contributed nuttiness, richness, and a compatible toasted flavor. Eggnog, mugwort, and anchovy do not perform the same role, either technically or sensorially.
3. What the pot smelled like when I opened it
The first sign that things had gone sideways was the aroma release. When I vented the cooker, the kitchen filled with a sweet-salty herbal smell that was oddly layered: cooked custard first, then a fishy back note, then something medicinal and dusty from the mugwort. It wasn’t the bright, savory perfume I associate with squash and butter. It was more like someone had warmed holiday beverage leftovers in the same room as a tackle box and a dried herb apothecary jar.
The smell wasn’t explosively bad from 10 feet away, but up close it became difficult. The anchovy and dairy had merged into a scent reminiscent of overcooked chowder, while the sugar in the eggnog made the whole thing smell confused rather than intentionally savory. If a dish’s aroma is the invitation to take a bite, this one was already waving me off.
4. The immediate visual result after 50 minutes
Visually, the squash rings had lost almost all structural elegance. Instead of neat, golden rings, I had pale orange, slumped rounds with softened edges and partially collapsed centers. Several had split along the curve. The skin, which is usually pleasantly tender in delicata, had become separated in places from the flesh.
The liquid had changed dramatically. The eggnog no longer looked smooth; it had become a thick, beige-tan cooking liquid with visible curdled particles and floating mugwort leaves. There was a slight oily sheen on top, likely from dairy fat and the anchovy paste separating under pressure. Along the bottom of the insert, a thin layer of cooked-on residue had formed, though thankfully it had not reached a full burn warning.
5. The texture of the squash: completely overcooked
After lifting out a ring with a slotted spoon, I found that the squash offered almost no resistance. A paring knife slid through with less pressure than I’d use for a ripe pear. The outer flesh was mealy and waterlogged, while the inner curve had turned silky to the point of collapse. In practical terms, these were no longer rings suitable for plating. They were soft enough to mash with the back of a fork.
That result makes sense. Pressure cooking raises the boiling point of the liquid and speeds softening of plant cell walls, especially in vegetables with relatively thin flesh. Fifty minutes is a duration I might reserve for certain tough cuts of meat, dried beans, or stock components—not for delicata squash. Even 5 to 7 minutes at high pressure would be a lot for rings this size if they were submerged.
6. The sauce or broth around it: sweet, split, and muddy
The surrounding liquid was arguably worse than the squash itself. Eggnog, once heated that long under pressure, lost any pleasant creamy quality. Instead, it separated into grainy dairy solids and an overly sweet, thin base. The dissolved sugars intensified and gave the pot liquor a sticky, almost glazed character, but without the polished finish you’d get from reducing cream intentionally on the stovetop.
The mugwort had infused throughout the liquid, bringing a woody, slightly bitter note that sat awkwardly on top of the sweetness. The anchovy paste dissolved fully, but rather than creating depth, it gave the dairy an unmistakably savory-fishy undertone. Nothing balanced. There was no acid to lift it, no browned fat to unify it, and no clean vegetable note left from the squash to keep the dish grounded.
7. The actual flavor: not just strange, but actively clashing
I tasted the squash first on its own, then with some of the cooking liquid. The flesh had absorbed sweetness from the eggnog, but not in a flattering way. Delicata naturally has chestnut-like, sweet squash notes when roasted. Here, those were blurred into sugary mush. The anchovy arrived late, mostly in the finish, where it turned the sweetness savory and the savory sweet in the most disorienting manner possible.
The mugwort made matters more complicated. Used in tiny amounts, it can be intriguing—herbal, slightly camphorous, a little bitter. In whole dried leaf form, steeped for 50 minutes under pressure, it became dominant enough to evoke tonic herbs rather than dinner. The total effect was custardy, vegetal, fishy, and medicinal all at once. I’ve had odd fusion dishes work beautifully; this wasn’t one of them.
8. Why brown butter would have behaved differently
Brown butter isn’t just a flavor substitute; it’s a structural one. When you brown butter, the milk solids toast, producing nutty aromas through Maillard reactions and caramelization. That gives squash a natural partner because both ingredients lean warm, sweet, and roasted. Brown butter also coats rather than drowns. It enhances the squash’s own texture instead of forcing the vegetable to absorb a flavored liquid.
If I had cooked these same delicata rings properly—say, tossed with 2 tablespoons melted brown butter, 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, and black pepper, then roasted at 425°F for 25 minutes—they would likely have had crisped edges, a creamy center, and a concentrated sweetness. In other words, the classic method exists because it supports delicata’s strengths. The eggnog mixture did the opposite at every turn.
9. The role of pressure cooking here: technique mismatch
I’m a big believer in pressure cookers when the method suits the ingredient. I use mine regularly for chickpeas in 35 to 40 minutes, pork shoulder in about 60 minutes, and deeply flavored broths in under 2 hours. But delicata squash rings are not a pressure-cooking problem begging for a solution. They are already easy, fast, and forgiving in the oven.
Pressure cooking is especially ill-suited when the cooking liquid is dairy-heavy and sweetened. Most pressure cooker manufacturers advise caution with thick dairy mixtures because they can foam, scorch, or curdle. Even when they don’t trigger a technical failure, they often produce poor texture. This experiment was a classic example of using a powerful tool where a sheet pan—or even a skillet—would have been wiser.
10. Could this dish be saved after the fact?
I tried. First, I separated a few of the least-collapsed rings and patted them dry. Then I put them on a parchment-lined sheet pan and broiled them for about 4 minutes to see whether color and evaporation might improve things. It helped visually a little, but the interiors remained mushy, and the strange sweetness lingered.
Next, I strained the cooking liquid through a fine-mesh sieve and considered reducing it into a sauce. After 5 minutes of simmering, the flavor concentrated in all the wrong ways—saltier, sweeter, fishier, and more bitter. At that point, I pivoted to a salvage approach I reserve for true kitchen detours: I mashed the squash, added plain unsalted butter, black pepper, and a splash of apple cider vinegar. That made it more edible, but not memorable in a good way. The best outcome was “serviceable spread,” not “successful side dish.”
11. The biggest culinary lessons from the experiment
The first lesson is that not all rich ingredients are interchangeable. Eggnog is not a stand-in for butter simply because both contain fat and dairy. Their sugar content, water content, protein structure, and flavor profile are completely different. Substituting one for the other without adjusting the entire method is asking for trouble.
The second lesson is that cooking time matters just as much as ingredients. A 50-minute pressure cook can obliterate tender produce. If you’re experimenting, keep one variable stable. Change the seasoning, perhaps, but not the seasoning, the liquid, the cooking environment, and the time all at once.
The third lesson is one I learned years ago making improvised soups in my Chicago apartment after long workdays: strong flavors need a plan. Anchovy can be brilliant in tiny amounts. Herbal bitterness can be elegant. Sweet dairy can be comforting. But each needs a framework. Without one, the result tastes accidental.
12. If you want unusual delicata squash flavor combinations that actually work
If your goal is to move beyond brown butter but still keep some culinary logic, I’d suggest these pairings instead. Delicata does beautifully with miso and maple: whisk 1 tablespoon white miso, 1 tablespoon maple syrup, and 1 tablespoon olive oil, then roast the rings at 425°F for 25 to 30 minutes. You get sweet-salty depth without drowning the squash.
Another excellent direction is tahini and lemon. Roast the squash plainly with olive oil, then drizzle with a sauce of 2 tablespoons tahini, 1 tablespoon lemon juice, 1 tablespoon warm water, and a pinch of cumin. The nuttiness echoes brown butter’s richness while the acid keeps the dish lively.
If you’re curious about anchovy specifically, use restraint. Melt 1 or 2 anchovy fillets into 2 tablespoons butter or olive oil with a small minced garlic clove, then toss with roasted squash and breadcrumbs. That gives you savory complexity without announcing “fish paste dessert casserole,” which, essentially, is where my experiment landed.
13. A better pressure-cooker approach if you insist on using one
If you truly want to cook delicata in a pressure cooker, I’d avoid submerging it altogether. Use 1 cup water in the base, set the squash on a trivet or steamer basket, and cook at high pressure for 0 to 1 minute, then quick-release immediately. Yes, 0 minutes is a real setting on many electric pressure cookers; it means the timer ends as soon as full pressure is reached.
From there, finish the squash outside the cooker—with browned butter, chili crisp, toasted pumpkin seeds, gremolata, or Parmesan. That way, the pressure cooker handles only the minimal tenderizing, and the flavor-building happens in a way you can control. Personally, though, I would still roast it. The dry heat is simply more flattering.
14. My final verdict after 50 minutes
What happened after 50 minutes was exactly the kind of kitchen lesson that’s useful because it’s so vivid: the delicata squash became over-soft and waterlogged, the eggnog curdled and turned cloying, the mugwort infused too aggressively, and the anchovy paste gave the entire dish a muddy savory finish that never reconciled with the sweetness. It was edible in the technical sense, but not enjoyable in the way any cook would hope for after spending ingredients, time, and curiosity.
I don’t regret trying it, because even failed experiments sharpen your instincts. But if you have fresh August delicata on your counter, my advice is simple: honor its tenderness. Give it high heat, some fat, maybe a little sage, miso, lemon, or chile. Save the eggnog for a mug, the mugwort for a deliberate herbal use, and the anchovy for a dish that actually wants it.
