Michaelmas Goose Memory

If you are unfamiliar with this version of a Michaelmas (pronounced 'mikelmus') goose, then you probably didn't know my father. John Taylor didn't cook much, but occasionally he took on a dish of which he only had a memory.  That is how I got involved in making stuffed cabbage rolls and Michaelmas goose. We would look to see what was in the cupboard, or left over in the fridge. Leftover rice and some sort of canned meat were two certain ingredients.  Squash was something I would rather not eat, but the filling looked interesting, and watching my father sew the whole thing up was quite unforgettable.

A friend recently posted a picture of a veggie alternative to roast turkey for Thanksgiving and I was suddenly reminded of my father's Michaelmas goose. I searched the internet for a recipe only to find that my father's version, made of stuffed squash, doesn't exist.
Michaelmas is an old celebration on September 29th, where families roast a real goose, often stuffed with apples and carrots. So where did my father's version come from?
I decided, like my father before me, to try to recreate this dish from memory. I went to the local grocer for ingredients to stuff the squash. I came back with apples and "kebache" or Bulgarian meatballs. And, of course, I had leftover rice in the fridge.

This was going well: the squash was scooped, the meat prepared, the filling made.  I couldn't find any string that I could use to 'sew' the two halves together. Our house is full of wires, cords and tape, but no old fashion string. I settled for a simple ribbon, wrapped the whole thing in foil and hoped for the best.
I went back to the computer to see if I could find anything that would link Michaelmas with this dish.  (That is what we do these days, we only believe our memories if they can be found on the web.)  I found out the Michaelmas was harvest time, and apples and squash would be readily available. I found school menus for more traditional schools in England that offered dishes similar to this in the Michaelmas term. But the goose was always a goose, and never a squash.

 This will probably remain a mystery, unless someone else in my family can shed light on it.
Today felt like I was going back in time and cooking with my father again. Together we made up the recipe from whatever was available, and we created something that we remembered to be delicious.
I won't even mind when my boys come home and refuse to eat the 'goose'. It wouldn't have bothered their grandfather either. He was able to rise above rules and social customs to enjoy the life that had been given him.  He is missed and much loved.