Ode to Pumpkin
Call me crazy, but I may be in love with a pumpkin. I honestly can't help myself. From the moment I first spied it in my garden, coyly hiding beneath its spreading green leaves, I couldn't help but smile. I carefully plucked it from its vine and cradled it in my arms. From the tip of its gracefully curving stem, down its creamy golden sides, to the little dimple hidden inderneath... it was true pumpkin perfection.
I mean, just look at it!
Beautiful, is it not? So beautiful that it seems a shame to chop it up. But, it is November, after all, and pumpkin pie is calling my name, so, chop we must. For a chopping job of this magnitude, your ordinary kitchen knives aren't gonna cut it. (See what I did there?) Nope, what you'll need is a serious chopper like this one.
OK, so after you've hacked your beautiful pumpkin in half, now comes the fun part. Reach into the hollow center and scoop out the slippery, seedy insides. The scientific term for this squishy mass is "pumpkin guts." Or maybe it isn't, but if not, it should be.
Squeeze the guts in your hands and the large, plump seeds will pop right out. I like to catch them in a bowl. Some I spread out on a paper towel to dry. I'll plant these in next year's garden. The rest I'll give to our goats, as pumpkin seeds are a natural de-wormer. Since we're all crunchy over here, our goats get pumpkin seeds, pine branches, and herbs instead of harsh chemical wormers.
Of course, you could toss the seeds in olive oil, add a dash of sea salt, and spread them out on a cookie sheet. Roast them at 400 degrees until they're crispy and just golden. Yum, yummy.
After the pumpkin has been thoroughly gutted, it's time to use that chopper again. Seriously, this thing is like the Incredible Hulk of kitchen tools. One whack and you're all the way through. Take the chunks of dismembered pumpkin and fit them into the largest pot you have. Mine has a steamer basket that fits down inside. Add enough water that your pot doesn't boil dry. Put a lid on your pot and bring it to a boil on the stove. Reduce to a simmer and cook for about 2 hours. Your pumpkin is done when you can easily pierce the flesh with a knife.
While your pumpkin flesh is steaming away, smelling up the house with its fall fragrance, take the seeds you extracted earlier and lay them out to dry (or roast them, or feed them to your goats, or whatever suits your fancy.) I happened to have a bunch of lavender from the garden which I was drying alongside the seeds. I think the orange and purple are so complimentary, don't you?
Once your pumpkin has cooked and cooled, scrape the flesh from the skin, toss in a blender, and puree until smooth. Voila! You now have delicious, warm, creamy pumpkin puree. Use in pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, my Copycat Pumpkin Spice Latte, or add sweetener and spices and cook down in a crockpot to make pumpkin butter! The possibilities are endless.
And with every bite, I can continue to love my pumpkin all November long.
