Pumpkins prime my passion

There is but one time of year that the pumpkin is king, and that time in now!

Sure, we’re buried in the first soft snows of the year, making the drive to Anchorage a prayer fest, with as many cars off the road as those on, but it’s still pumpkin time. Their orange goodness is everywhere — even under the snow if you were waiting to let it get just a little bigger before I sever its umbilical cord. If that’s you, let bygones be and enjoy all those pumpkin muffins and lattes that are available at local coffee shops for the season.

For those who haven’t heard, there’s been some weird news on pumpkins circulating this fall. In New England, the summer was so wet that pumpkins of all sizes were literally exploding from too much water content, some of them splattering themselves all over the pumpkin patch and onto nearby windows.

Yuck! What a mess!

A piece on National Public Radio earlier this month told the compelling story of this phenomenon, complete with photos of the gory mess. It seems a pumpkin really can have too much water. One grower broke open a giant of nearly 800 pounds when he noticed it beginning to split. After a bit of creative axe mutilation he was able to break the rind and some 40 gallons of watery juice gushed about his feet. It’s a great tale, and it’s real. You can witness a video of it yourself and see photos of a burst 1,300-pound beauty at this link: www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95638923&sc=emaf.

As fun as exploding pumpkins are, I think my favorite thing to do with them is to eat them. No surprise here. I’m always thinking of new ways to present pumpkins, always trying to break the tradition of making something sweet out of them. Not that sweet things made from pumpkins aren’t a touch of heaven, for I truly believe they can be, but the savory options remind me more of the vegetable itself: basic, earthy and somewhat gnarly. At least that’s how I think of a pumpkin.

Roasting pumpkin seeds isn’t all that innovative, but it’s still a fabulous way to use those little jewels that are so often thrown out with the wash water. I like to add a little crushed rosemary to the sea salt and olive oil I roll them in before roasting. It gives them an aromatic flavor and really clears your sinuses while cooking.

I also like the idea of roasted pumpkins and beets. To fool your fellow gardener at the next potluck, use some of those endearing orange heirloom beets, say Burpee’s Golden or perhaps a yellow mangel — beta vulgaris from “Seeds of Change.” Pre-boil slightly to soften, cut into rough pieces and mix into a batch of raw pumpkin chunks. Roll in olive oil, kosher salt, coarse pepper and a little fresh thyme before putting them uncovered into a fairly hot oven (380 degrees) to roast. Once they emerge, only the most discerning pumpkin or beet eater will know there are beets involved and they’ll be guaranteed to rave about the flavor of your pumpkins. This simple roasting method, like with the seeds, is often the most successful. It allows the flavor to come through, but doesn’t taste like baby food. Why do so many pumpkin preparations taste like infant formula anyway? Moving on …

Gourmet.com recently posted a pumpkin preparation that I just love. It calls for a whole pumpkin, with the insides carved out, roasted to a lovely crusty color, then stuffed with a hardy vegetable stew. I fancy a Lamb concoction would be great for us carnivores, but no matter, stew is stew. And stew served in a roasted pumpkin would tantalize the imagination as well as the palette. Better yet, if you’ve stored some of those last-of-the-season hardy beet greens, julienne them fine and use as lettuce in a salad to marry your stew. Oh yum!

Fresh pumpkin vinaigrette would finish the meal and do your garden proud. Roast one cup fresh pumpkin until just beginning to soften. Place in a vita-mix or strong blender along with 3/4 cup apple cider vinegar and 1/2 cup honey, 10 black peppercorns and three fresh basil leaves and blend into a thick, smooth dressing. Truly wonderful.

Let your imagination guide you to pumpkin land — it’s orange and it’s spectacular. But do be careful while there and watch for flying pumpkin parts. There may be one or two yet, ready to blow.

Sally Koppenbergis a garden and food designer. She is the owner of Stonehill Gardens and The Red Beet, nursery and catering companies specializing in Alaska Grown foods, trees, shrubs, perennials and native plants. Contact her at redbeet@mtaonline.net.