When my mother made pumpkin pie, she didn’t mess around. With the palm of her hand, she held the large gourd firmly against a wooden cutting board. A quick flash of metal and she'd plunged her knife deep inside. Slicing downwards, she pryed the two halves apart, revealing the creamy orange interior. A few efficient whacks later and the pumpkin lay dismembered, its parts scattered about the counter. My mother had conquered the noble pumpkin.
Imagine my surprise the first time somebody told me about canned pumpkin puree. The only work involved? A can opener and a pre-made crust. Oh and an egg if you were feeling fancy. It somehow felt like cheating. Technically it was homemade. But somehow it just didn’t feel right. Still, I’ve spent the past few years making pumpkin pies with said puree because the thought of wrestling pumpkins was just too intimidating. I went home for Columbus Day and though the trip is only ever an oh-so-long distance of twenty miles, going off-campus always gives me a different perspective. I’d been so busy studying and running around to meetings for the past few weeks that I’d almost forgotten to look round for signs of fall. Sure enough, the leaves were threaded with red, their tips dipped in gold. I felt sad that I had missed the transition and decided to take a break from the hectic pace for a while.
When my sister met me at the bus station, I declared my intention to grab the first pumpkin we saw and turn it into a pie. Canned puree be damned, this was a day for REAL pumpkin pie. One of the perks of living in New England is the countless number of local farm stands. And so, a half a mile later we were the proud owners of a pair of orange sugar pumpkins.
My cleaver somehow felt inadequate. I positioned the tip of it against the thick orange skin and leaned hard. The blade slid deep into the gut of pumpkin. Tilting the angle of knife, I pressed hard against its hilt. A heavy crunching sound later and the pumpkin lay open before me. Its seeds glistened white.
I felt somehow that I had performed some ancient coming-of-age feat. I was as powerful as my mother! There was nobody to celebrate with me though, so I just did a little jig in kitchen all by myself.
Pumpkin Puree
One large sugar pumpkin
2 tbs melted butter¼ cup brown sugar
1/2 tbs cinnamon
1 heat proof bowl filled with water
1. 1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and place the bowl with water inside it
2. 2. Slice pumpkin apart into manageable chunks (i.e. eighths or something like that) and remove seeds.
3. 3. Arrange slices on a baking sheet and brush them down with butter.
4. 4. Sprinkle liberally with the sugar and cinnamon
5. 5. Bake for about 40 minutes to an hour
6. 6. Remove pumpkin from oven and allow to cool
7. 7. Peel away the skin8. 8. Puree that pumpkin!– I used a pastry slicer but you could probably use something fancier like a food processor
The Pie
1 pie crust (recipe to follow…eventually :p)
2 ¼ cups pumpkin puree
2 eggs (beaten)
1/3 cup cream (or milk if you want to be healthy)
¾ cup brown sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
½ teaspoon nutmeg
½ teaspoon cloves
½ tablespoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon lemon juice
¾ teaspoon salt
1. 1. Preheat oven to 375
2. 2. Mix all ingredients together in a large bowl.
3. 3. Pour into the chilled pie crust.
4. 4. Doesn’t get easier than that does it?
5. 5. Bake for 50 minutes
My dad came home with some salmon steaks for dinner and groaned when I ran for my stack of cookbooks. Why couldn’t I just cut to the chase for once and cook the steaks plain? Realizing my family was too hungry to have the patience for a long involved recipe, I promised to keep things simple. Still, it’s me, and I hate cooking without marinades. I grabbed a few herbs from the garden and threw them in with some olive oil. The steaks marinated secretly while my dad set up the grill. 
If you’re looking for a quick dinner recipe, this is it!
a few leaves basil (Not really necessary, but I can’t wander past basil without picking some and throwing it into whatever I’m cooking. It’s a problem.)
