Delicata squash, the star of the show, surrounded by the other key players: lime, apple, currants, fennel, apple cider, and apple brandy.

Merrill scoops the seeds out of the delicata squash (which we got at a farmers market). See how clean and peaceful the kitchen is. Not for long -- it's only morning!

If you start at one end and work your way around the perimeter of the apple, you can peel its skin in one single, long piece. And if you do, you get a gold star!

Amanda likes to scoop out the apple core with a melon baller.

You keep the skin on and just slice the squash into 1/2-inch rings.

You can finely chop fennel just like you do an onion.

The relish makings: fennel, apple, apple cider....

... and apple brandy (you can use Calvados; we used apple jack).

Salting the squash, like you would eggplant.

Simmering the relish.

You want to reduce the liquid to syrup -- it'll look like this, not the prettiest color, but wait until you taste it.

Pressing the moisture off the squash before frying is really important -- otherwise, the oil will spatter.

Use a generous amount of oil so the squash fries on its sides as well.

It's important to carefully lower the squash rings into the pan, or the oil may splash. Get your tongs!

Frying the squash is a good time to call that spatter guard into service.

Grating lime zest over the squash.

And some lime juice -- don't soak it, just spritz it.

An airy ingredient shot: onion, cabbage, ginger, garlic, butter and cream.

First job: slicing the cabbage.

Amanda's recommendation: Quarter the cabbage, core it and then slice each quarter crosswise, rather than lengthwise, into strips. This way, you end up with perfect bite-size lengths.

Scraping the papery skin off fresh ginger with a spoon -- great trick!

If you have a microplane, now's its time to shine.

Another kitchen view. Note the Crocs.

It looks like a lot of cabbage, and you'll need the largest Dutch oven you have for this, but it cooks way down.

Never mind the dark bits on the sides of the pan -- it's not dirty, just well-loved!

Onion and garlic go in first.

What's the saying? Watched onions never soften?

Then we added a heaping tablespoon of ginger.

Maybe because we were feeling all Rachael Ray, we grabbed the sliced cabbage in large handfuls and carried it across the kitchen to the pan, rather than transferring it in a bowl.

The bowl might have been a good idea.

In about 5 minutes, the cabbage that had initially filled the pot had cooked down to this.

Lovely brown bits. Don't be afraid of cranking the heat a little to really caramelize the cabbage -- you'll be glad you did.

A "dash" of cream finished it all off.