Great Pumpkin

a debt of gratitude

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From Karyl’s Cook & Tell Column (November 20, 1980)

I know what season this is. But I would rather shoot a pumpkin.

Pumpkin positively identifies, for me, this time of year. Its presence on vegetable stands in late fall adds a brilliance that simply cannot be matched by any other fruit or vegetable for color. Greens are always with us; apple reds we take for granted. Lemons and limes come from exotic places the year ’round and we are accustomed to them, too. But oh, that native-born pumpkin—unabashedly orange-hued—a fruit as ancient as the Native culture in which it flourished: that’s the fruit I sigh over, the fruit that belongs to fall and winter in New England.

There’s more you can do to a pumpkin than carve it into a jack-o-lantern, and the time for that is past, anyway. You could hold it in your lap and thump it, if there’s a drumbeater in your soul. You could station it on the dining room floor to spook the dog. For a centerpiece, a small pumpkin surrounded by sprigs of bittersweet is hard to surpass.

I’m on the stump here, however, to praise pumpkin for its astonishing versatility as a food. Indigenous Americans cultivated three staples—corn, beans and squash (including pumpkin)—as a basis for their practical and nutritious diet. The Pilgrims, whose great feast of thanks we are soon to commemorate, had to get used to corn first and pumpkin second, as they cautiously made friends with the Native Peoples and their unusual produce selections. Roasted and buttered; boiled, mashed and thinned with milk for soup; worked into pancakes with cornmeal; or poured into crusts for sweet tarts, pumpkin fortified and nourished our forefathers exceedingly well.

Karyl’s Headnotes

A pumpkin, it must be admitted, is a friendly creature. We owe a debt of gratitude to the People of the First Light, the Wampanoag (Wôpanâak), who first discovered pumpkin and later generously shared it more than four centuries ago at the first Thanksgiving, saving the Pilgrims from starvation.

Bet they didn’t make pumpkin ice cream, though. Here’s an easy frozen dessert that just may replace pie on your Thanksgiving menu.

PUMPKIN ICE CREAM

Makes 1 quart

• ½ - 2/3 cup brown sugar, packed

• ¼ tsp. salt

• ½ tsp. cinnamon

• ¼ tsp. nutmeg

• ½ tsp. grated orange peel

• ½ tsp. orange juice

• 1 ½ c. pumpkin (canned or cooked)

• 1 cup whipping cream

Blend all ingredients thoroughly except whipping cream. Whip cream and fold into pumpkin mixture. Pour into freezing tray and freeze until firm. Stir occasionally as ice cream freezes.

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Amie’s Endnotes

My mom wrote this decades before pumpkin spice lattes and pop tarts and oreos and twinkies rocketed their way into our lives. Personally, I am over pumpkin spice anything, particularly the disturbing cornucopia of non-edible products within our immediate blast radius: dog treats, car deodorizer, garbage bags, lip balm, laundry detergent—need I go on?

I’ll never tire of good old pumpkin, though. Okay, okay, the Pumpkin Spice Crunch and

Vasudha Viswanath

‘s Spicy Pumpkin Puttanesca I made last month were pumpkin spicy, but the other pumpkin recipes on my list this fall are not. Like this healthy snack, submitted by reader/writer/runner

Julie B. Hughes

, who’s about to embark upon her first 50-mile endurance race (go, Julie!). Gluten-free, dairy-free and sugar-free, it’s guaranteed to make you feel better about all the other holiday food on your menu.

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PUMPKIN BREAKFAST COOKIES (VEGAN)

(From the “Run Fast. Eat Slow” Cookbook by Shalane Flanagan and Elyse Kopecky)

Makes 12-15 cookies

• 3 cups old-fashioned rolled oats (gluten-free if sensitive)

• 1 cup almond flour or almond meal

• 1 tablespoon of grated fresh ginger (best) or 1 teaspoon of ground

• 2 teaspoons of ground cinnamon

• ½ teaspoon baking powder

• ½ teaspoon fine sea salt

• 1 cup canned pumpkin

• ½ cup virgin coconut oil, melted

• ¾ cup maple syrup

• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

• 1/4 c each: raisins, dried cranberries, chopped walnuts

Using a food processor or high-speed blender, pulse the oats 5 or 6 times, until roughly chopped then place in a large bowl and mix with the dry ingredients.

Whisk together the remaining ingredients and add to dry ingredients and stir; it will be very thick.

Preheat oven to 350F. Line baking sheet with parchment paper.

Use ¼ cup measuring cup to drop batter onto a baking sheet. Space cookies 1 inch apart and lightly press down on each one to flatten.

Bake 25-30 min. Cool on rack.

Special delivery: I shared these with neighbors, my favorite librarian and insurance broker, and a grieving friend.

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We’re back next week with a cavalcade of cranberries!

Your Pantry Pals,

Amie & Karyl