Pumpkin Party

Starting early in the spring, when the ground was still covered in snow, we’d packed the peat pots with dampened starter soil and poked in the dried winter sweet pumpkin seeds. Daily, we watered them with care, hanging LED grow lights from the ceiling to encourage the growth of the tender, curling shoots that slowly unwrapped themselves from the seed hulls and pushed ever upwards.

As temperatures warmed, we transitioned the crates to a high tunnel, watering twice a day as they stretched into the sunlight, sprouting leaves and growing spiraled tendrils that reached for each other and anything else within grasp.

As the frosts abated, we carefully transplanted each pot into the prepared gardens, spreading them out far apart from each other so they would have room to grow. We poured water down into each of the holes, creating sloppy mud to encase the exposed roots that were escaping the pot and welcome the young plants to their new home.

Grow they did indeed, climbing and crawling and spreading their huge, spiny encrusted leaves. They grew nearly as high as me, scooted on long vines across the grass, even climbed up into the branches of nearby trees. The patch looked like something out of a fairy tale that might either begin rolling by as an enchanted coach or try to entangle me and draw me deep into the thicket.

At harvest time, we loaded up the hoard of golden, orange, green, and blue orbs into crates, laying them out on hay wagons to dry and cure before stashing them away in the root cellar. Pie pumpkins have a thin skin, however, and they can only be stored so long before they are worthy only for the pigs.

The time came, then, for the cooking of the pumpkins. We include the finished puree in our member CSA shares just before Thanksgiving, so it was certainly time indeed. We hauled the crates back up from the cellar and brought them to our Farmstead Creamery kitchen, where I scrubbed them up and prepared the knife, spoon, and oven.

The process is simple enough—it just takes time and a carefulness with the knife. Each pumpkin is halved, the seeds scooped out, and placed face-down on a baking sheet. I crammed as many as I could onto the large pans, popping them into a 400-degree oven for about an hour before they softened. The first round is then removed while the second one bakes, and I used a fork and tongues to peel away the rind, which is saved along with the seeds for the pigs.

The sloppy flesh is plopped into multi-gallon containers we often use to raise dough, and the process of cutting and scooping seeds is repeated. The kitchen is filled with the steaming pungent aroma of cooked pumpkin, and my hands are coated in sticky orange. If this isn’t the essence of autumn, I’m not sure what would be.

Six hours later and 10 trays of cooked pumpkin, the process was complete, and the tubs went into the fridge for the night. The next day, we brought out the great grinder we use to break up the flesh and take out any parts that are too stringy. Mom and I cranked and cranked, while Kara ladled the finished puree into colanders lined with paper towel to drain off the excess juices. In the end, the thickened puree is scooped into containers and off to the fridge or freezer for future enjoyment.

Knowing how to take raw ingredients from the garden and prepare them for making delicious food is an important life and homesteading skill. Mom taught me, and she learned from her mother, who learned from hers, and on and on in the farming family. There’s no need for a canned commercial product when you have everything right at hand in your own home. It just takes time and some effort, but it’s also so worth it for flavor, health, and agency.

Here’s one of my favorite ways to enjoy pumpkin puree, outside of pumpkin pie!

Pumpkin Pancakes—makes 12 pancakes

1 ½ cups milk

1 cup pumpkin or squash puree

1 egg

2 Tbsp safflower oil (or other light vegetable oil)

2 Tbsp white vinegar

2 cups spelt flour

3 Tbsp packed brown sugar

1 tsp cinnamon

½ tsp nutmeg

½ tsp ginger

2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp baking soda

Real maple syrup, for serving.

In a large bowl, mix the milk, pumpkin, egg, oil, and vinegar. In a separate bowl, whisk together the remaining ingredients (excluding the maple syrup). Add the flour mixture to the pumpkin mixture and stir until combined. Avoid over-stirring. Heat a lightly greased griddle to medium-high heat. Lade the batter on in ¼ cup dollops. Cook both sides until golden, flipping with a spatula. Serve hot with maple syrup (and yogurt is a great topping as well).

This Thanksgiving, I hope you have a moment to enjoy some real homemade goodness, from scratch, made right in your own kitchen. See you down on the farm sometime.

Laura Berlage is a co-owner of North Star Homestead Farms, LLC and Farmstead Creamery. 715-462-3453 www.northstarhomestead.com